Archives for posts with tag: escapefromcrazytown

It makes me happy to see a resident of Crazytown taking the actions necessary to move out. After all, moving requires preparation and work. No one wakes up one morning and says, I’m moving today, and successfully changes from point A to point Z. I love this resident and have been coaching him to move out for years. At first, he just didn’t believe he was living in Crazytown. Crazytown was hip, it was where all of his friends lived. The nightlife was exciting and unpredictable.

He went through a phase in which he couldn’t make Crazytown work for him — so he wanted funding. Just help with a computer. Help with a couple of bucks for food. Help for heating. He needed socks. That went on for a few years, punctuated by bouts of shouting, crying, outrage, anxiety–the whole emotional rollercoaster at the carnival.

Next, he drowned his sorrows. He self-medicated. He destroyed relationships without acknowledging his rage. He blacked out. Often. One year, the day before Thanksgiving, he called me. Someone had broken into his apartment and left the deadbolt (which had been pried off completely) in the middle of the living room floor. In the living room had been two laptops — his and his girlfriends. His laptop had been stolen — his whole means of making money as a DJ. His girlfriend’s laptop hadn’t been touched. Apparently, the thief had entered his room, and stole a pair of his very expensive hipster jeans — waist size 28. He was so drunk, he didn’t hear someone steal his pants! The worst part, in those pants was his Louis Vuitton belt, still threaded through the belt loops.

Out of curiosity, how many thieves can actually wear a size 28 skinny jean? I mean really? I’ve seen meth addicts who couldn’t fit into those jeans — they were like leggings!

Anyway, this seemed to be the Crazytown cycle. Get to “rock bottom” and quit drinking/drugging. Go to church one week in a row. Feel better for two weeks. Repeat.

Girlfriends lasted about 2 years and then moved on.

And then the big 30 began to loom on the horizon. After 9 years, he was still cycling, still living behind the 8 ball — worse than paycheck to paycheck. Less than zero, less than zero, when it came to his budget. Light began to dawn, and the false shine of Crazytown looked cheap, like the fake gold that peels off of a plastic dish. The disguises were frayed, filthy, and cracked. He quit drinking. For weeks, over two months. He was clear headed and began making good choices.

He is packing his bags. He is serious this time. He is moving. He is not perfect, there has been a short lapse and a quick revisit to his own self-tortured agony. But with that, a renewal of commitment, and a fresh perspective of why.

Why do we do what we do?

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Is this an example of bullying?

Let’s use this to open a dialogue about online communication. I’m not worried about hurting this man’s reputation, since he has long been employed at the same small business, perhaps it is his own business, and he only has 8 connections on LinkedIn. So this is a great opportunity to discuss choices. My first point: I feel bad for my friend, Meegan Kiefel, who opened up this topic of conversation, only to have such an off-topic and mean-spirited comment to surface from one of her followers. Meegan is a wonderful person, kind, warm-hearted, and open. She would never encourage this type of comment, in fact none of my beautiful friends would support this. It is not his post or conversation to barge in on. Not his business. Yes, it’s publicly online, but that doesn’t nullify good manners, nor common sense.

Second Point: This dialogue should go deeper. It doesn’t matter to me what was posted by a stranger, but if I were less mature, younger, without exposure to the harshness of others, this could have silenced me, or worse, hurt my self-confidence. In fact, I considered completely ignoring this silly comment. However, I realize in our current culture, I cannot walk away. It would be missing the opportunity given to me to share some important topics of consideration. Such as the following questions: What are we accepting in our society, in our communication, in our media as acceptable communication? Are we afraid of reading/hearing different perspectives and points-of-view? Can we be more invitational? Can we ask more questions and listen to more answers? I say “no” to our media’s presentation of mockery, insinuation, deliberate misguided interpretation, insults, and pointless coverage. We can empower each other to rise above the lowest common denominator.

Point Three: There are many good reasons to practice courtesy, case in point, your own personal branding. What does this comment say about this person? How many potential customers and employers will see this comment? What we say is a reflection of our character. Let us be more than mockers, belittlers, bullies, and haters. Choose to uplift, encourage, and inform. Don’t be silenced, but rather sound the call for kindness. After all, we can reflect the light within, even on Facebook.

I just heard an awful story from Crazytown. It’s the most common story that I hear — two people, with kids, can’t figure out that there’s a way to deal with mental illness, with anger, fear, and pain. And so he beats her. And then eventually shoots her. In this case, 7 children, all from other relationships are robbed of their parents. 7 lives now overflowing with anger, fear, and pain. 

If you are in one of these relationships. You know if you are. You have panic attacks. You yell. You scream. No one hears you. No one can help you. You feel hopeless. But you dream. You know that there must be something else. Other than drinking and drugs and cutting and everything else you do to cope.

Stop putting a funny face on it. Stop saying the sun will come out tomorrow. Because if you don’t walk away, it won’t.

Just walk away.

Oh! Easy for you to say! No. Not easy. It is hard, in fact, terrifying. You have to make plans to stay safe. You have be alert for stalking. But it has to be done. Otherwise, well, you will die. And that is not an option. You have kids. It is not an option. You must fight for sanity, fight for your life, fight for your kids. 

Make a plan. Just walk away.

If you are a man. Walk away. It’s the only way to be a man. You are not a man if you are tormenting the “one you love” — that is not ever acceptable. Not when you’re drunk or high. It hurts you in ways, well, you know what I mean. You lose your self-respect. It’s time to walk away. Oh, but that’s the problem, too many fathers walking away. Let me break it to you. If you, as a father, are beating the life out of anyone, your girlfriend, your wife, your kids, you are not a father, you are a jailer. If you need meds and you don’t feel like taking them, be a man, and take your meds.

Just walk away.

Or, get help. Don’t try. Just do it. Don’t make excuses, oh I’m tired, I work 60 hours a week, it’s not in my insurance plan. So? Either make it work and suck it up and get better and escape from Crazytown or just walk away. 

There is no stasis. You are both part of the problem. Fix it or file it. 

 

Here’s my best tip — free to anyone in charge of their own income, projects, and accomplishments. Use one of your friends as “Boss of the Day” — I just did this today. And look, I am writing again! And more importantly, I am going to work my marketing plan.

I had fallen into a miasma, a lazy summer meandering mindset. It’s been fun, it’s been good — don’t get me wrong. But in my Purple Haze, a red flag of anxiety has been drifting on the wind of doubt. Yes, my old arch nemesis, Self-Doubt, (villainous laughter: whah hah hah). I can tell you that some lessons learned are reviewed throughout life. Once you have kicked Self-Doubt out on its butt, you frequently find it lurking around in the corner, which requires another butt-kicking.

Who knew that today, all I needed was Kaya asking me “Why aren’t you getting things done? Something’s stopping you. What is it?”

Me: “Uuuuuuuuhnhhhhh, I dunno.” The feeling of foolishness isn’t one I relish. So, I told her, my boss of the day, when I will get certain tasks done, followed up by an email, and a phone call at the end of the week.

I didn’t need a drill sergeant, I just needed the sweetest person in the world to look me in the eyes and ask me straight on what, why, and when. You too can be someone’s BOTD or get the benefit of someone else doing BOTD.

Now, what’s stopping you from getting your dream done?

So, try this at home. No professionals needed.