Tag: Anxiety

Almost There and Back Again: A Fat Man’s Tale

Content Warning: This post contains discussion of suicide.

In this post, I want to share my thoughts and feelings leading up to, during, and after my attempted suicide on March 8, 2024. I am not going to go into a lot of detail in some areas, but I will share some pretty raw stuff. So, buckle up, yeah?

Note: the fact that I refer to myself here as “Fat Man” is not self-deprecating humor or meant to apply any judgement to myself or others on being heavier than other folks. Weight stigma is a real and insidious problem. This post will not focus on my weight at all, so I feel no CONTENT WARNING is necessary. If you or a loved one struggle with weight stigma, I highly recommend the Maintenance Phase podcast.

Other Note: Fans of J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy will likely find some fun easter eggs in this post. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

The last 16 months or so have been a bit of a roller coaster for me. I know that metaphor is overused and a bit lazy. I wanted to come up with another one but the best I can land on is The Great Space Coaster which doesn’t really fit. Where my Gary Gnu fans at?

This ride included the following (not necessarily in chronological order):

  • (dammit) Several mental health crises with my family at home that took a massive amount of my energy to deal with in order to support those I love
  • (dammit) Two medical leaves from my dream job at Microsoft due to my Depression/Anxiety
  • (woohoo!) Completing Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP) and Intensive Outpatient Program (IOP) for my Depression/Anxiety
  • (SUPER woohoo!) Purchase of a super powerful gaming PC for the first time ever in my life
  • (dammit) Terrible performance reviews at Microsoft as I tried (and failed) to meet the increased demands of my role. The things I was really good at, and that had gotten me promoted a few years ago, just weren’t enough anymore.
  • (SUPER dammit) Termination from my dream job at Microsoft due to my inability to meet expectations of my role despite my best efforts to do so
  • (SUPER dammit) Feelings of betrayal and abandonment as family members expressed how I was failing to meet their expectations of me despite my best efforts to do so
  • (SUPER DUPER dammit) Suicide attempt on March 8
  • (woohoo!) Surviving said attempt
  • (Super dammit, but necessary) Hospitalization
  • (woohoo!) Discharge from the hospital (followed by pepperoni pizza) on March 14
  • (woohoo!) Did I mention pizza? Mmmm

Note: While I am going to share that my suicide attempt involved an overdose of one of my medications, I am not going to refer to it by name. Instead, I will call it Lembas (the magical “waybread” that the Elves in the Lord of the Rings series use to sustain them when travelling long distances).

Concerning Failure

In a hole in the ground (my basement office) in Minnesota, there lived a Fat Man. Not a nasty, dingy, dirty hole with nowhere to sit down or play computer games, but nice hole with a gaming PC and comfy chair.

One of the things I tend to do when I am struggling with my mental health is to isolate in my basement office. When I am having a hard time “being” then “being around other people” is SO MUCH harder. I also worked from home for the past several years in that same office. I also also have hobbies that I either must do in my office (computer games) or that are just easier to do in my office (so I can watch or listen to what I want without needing to coordinate with anyone else).

The bottom line is that I’m in my office a lot.

Venn Diagram of Me in my Office

From my perspective, I take part in several different activities and happen to be in my office (by necessity or by choice) when I do them. I see the smaller circles inside the diagram, not just the outer one. I almost always (not when I need to isolate) welcome my family to come in and talk with me if they need or want to. So, from my perspective, I was not failing anyone, I was just using my office.

From my family’s perspective, I am in my office almost all the time and therefore not available. They tend to only see the outer circle in the diagram: “Me in my office,” which I fully acknowledge is understandable. This generates feelings on their part that I am not there for them or that I just don’t want to be around them and am therefore failing as a father and/or husband.

As noted above, I had failed in my dream job at Microsoft. So, I was failing at work AND at home despite my best efforts in both places.

Meme showing two buttons, and a man sweating over which one to press. They are both labelled FAIL

The Unexpected Journey

After struggling for a month with the loss of my dream job, and an absolutely brutal (from my perspective at the time) family therapy session the night before, I decided that everyone would be better off without me.

I had just gotten a refill (30-day supply) for my Lembas prescription, and I had not yet insisted that the bottle be stored in the lockbox that only my wife has the combination for. Thus, I had access to all of it. That proved suboptimal.

Around 11:30am Central on Friday, March 8th, 2024, I locked my office door and downed the entire bottle of Lembas along with my nighttime meds for the day (which includes a bit more Lembas) that I take to help me sleep. Thus, I had like a shit ton of Lembas in my body.

I sent a text to my family indicating how I felt and that if they ever loved me they should let me be and let me go. I wanted to say goodbye in a way that wouldn’t leave them wondering why I had gone but also would not generate immediate red flags that would make them rush to intervene. Thoughtful, yeah? #FacePalm

I turned off my computer and sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. After what seemed like less than 5 minutes to me, I woke up Saturday evening (according to my wife, since I had no idea) in a little room at the Acute Psychiatry Services (APS) unit of a local hospital feeling dizzy as fuck and only barely aware of myself or my surroundings. I will share more about APS later in this post.

My first thought was utter disappointment that my attempt to take my own life had failed; yet another fucking failure. I knew at that moment that I had just made EVERYTHING worse than it already was. AND, I was more trapped than I had ever been in my life.

Riddles in the Family Text Chat

My text to my family ruined my planned exit. My text had a similar to feel to ones my youngest daughter had seen before from friends who were having thoughts of self-harm. She ended up texting my wife and my oldest about what I had sent. One of them came to check on me, found the office door locked (which I pretty much NEVER do), and knew there was a problem.

I kind of want to make a “what does it got in its pill bottleses, precious?” joke here but it seems like too much. Is it too much? Yeah. It’s too much. Never mind.

The bottom line is that my youngest played a key role in saving my life.

In the Houses of Healing

Hospitalization for mental health is most decidedly NOT FUN or enjoyable in ANY way. The wards for the most acute needs, like the APS I mentioned above, are essentially “people storage” designed to prevent patients from self-harm. There is medication management but no other therapies. It’s just to get patients stabilized and safe enough to move to a more tradition in-patient setting.

In APS, the unit itself is locked down and the rooms and environment are designed to deny any means of self-harm. Solid beds bolted to the floor, padded corners everywhere, nothing sharp or even dull and hard. And individual rooms that disallowed turning the lights all the way off so that the staff can observe you at all times via video. APS is essentially human storage. Or at least that is how it felt to me.

I was on a mandated 72-hour hold in the APS unit. Those were the longest 3 days of my life. I didn’t have the brain power for reading or much else, so I mostly just had my thoughts which were filled with disappointment, darkness, and doom.

The very firm foam mattress of my bed triggered really bad muscle spasm in my back. That added a lot of physical pain to my experience and made every moment feel so much longer. I have bulging discs in my lower back that make the way my pelvis shifts when I lay on firm surfaces super painful.

The few bright spots were a visit from my wife and two visits from my oldest daughter. My daughter and I discussed the fantasy series I have been ruminating on for decades. I had told parts of it to my girls as bedtime stories and they both LOVED that. I shared more of the ideas I had put together over the past several years and we had such a great time. She got so excited she started (when she got home) drawing up some possible designs for character clothing and key locations. It was pretty amazing. Because of those conversations and how excited we both got over it, I am actually starting to write the damned thing.

Eventually I was moved to a more general psychiatric ward for those struggling with mental health and/or addiction issues. It is a more relaxed environment for more freedom and a bit more independence. It is still locked down and designed to prevent self-harm but there are showers, various therapy activities, social interaction, and easier communication with the outside world.

My time in the general ward was certainly better than in APS. I was able to read again, socialize with other patients, and even play some chess with another patient that loved the game and was starving for someone to play with that knew the game well enough to play with strategy and not just the basics of how the pieces move. That was fun. I only beat him once (gotta love a Knight fork). We both really enjoyed our games.

I only spent a few days in the general ward. After my first meeting with the in-patient psychiatrist, it was clear that I had been very thoroughly “doing the work” of managing my mental health via consistently taking my medications, actively participating in psychotherapy, and had a great ability to advocate for myself in insightful and healthy ways. She concluded quickly that getting me home as soon as possible was the best course of action.

As we were planning for my discharge, the psychiatrist asked if I needed refills on any of my medications. I mentioned in a very deadpan way that “I seem to be out of Lembas for some reason…” and she guffawed with delight at the joke. That felt really good.

I want to say that the people that work in mental health facilities are heroes. They are understaffed, overworked, often poorly treated by patients, and seldom get appreciated for their efforts. The health systems in place in the United States, designed to prioritize making money rather than actually providing care, are a total shitshow. But healthcare workers are not at fault for that in any way. They do the best they can with what resources they are allowed and very much deserve respect and gratitude. They certainly have mine.

Well… I’m back.

Now that I am out of the hospital, I will be doing another round of PHP and resuming care with my own psychiatrist and therapist. I am also respecting the needs to my family in order to help them feel that I am safe. We are being far stricter about what medications are locked up and I am being very patient with my wife needing to periodically ask me how I am feeling. My actions had a massive impact on all of them. It is heartbreaking to me to know what I put them through.

If you have dealt with self-harm/suicide as part of your own mental health challenges, please know that you are not alone. There are people out there who understand. I am one of them.

If you have a loved one who tries to harm themselves, please don’t blame yourself or them. There are too many factors in play to pin judgement on anyone. The best path forward is to show up for them with compassion and empathy.

I hope this post helps someone. It certainly helped me to write it.

Thanks.

PS for Saint Patrick’s Day: The nurse that brought me from the APS unit to the regular ward is named Patrick. I had the joy of telling him, “I didn’t see a single snake the entire time I was in here. Thanks for all you do.” Who’s got two thumbs and makes jokes with the hospital staff after a suicide attempt? #ThisGuy

Remember the Can’t

I’m having a hard time today. I mentioned it on Twitter but that seems too transient a platform to rely on for helping others feel less alone when they need it. So, this very brief post will just have a list of thoughts going through my head right now.

  • It is not a character flaw to be unable to function due to a mental illness/disorder, to “can’t” as I sometimes refer to this.
  • It is OK to can’t.
  • There are probably people you care about that are can’ting right now.
  • I am can’ting right now.
  • Despite how it may feel, can’ters are not alone.
  • I am safe.

If you can’t, please know that you are still worthy of love and compassion and that the world is better with you in it.

My Self-Care: Computer Games and Podcasts

I am on medical leave from my dream job at Microsoft for a while. My Depression and Anxiety have been acting up for months and I burned through my paid-time-off with little to show for it. The whole grin and bear it thing, even it if helps, just doesn’t lead to long term stability. I am super fortunate to have medical leave via Short Term Disability as an option along with a manager and team at work, and a family at home that care about me.

Concentrating and focusing are both really hard right now. And I find blogging about my experiences helpful, not just for myself, but for the possibility of making someone else’s experience even a little bit easier. With that in mind, I have decided to share some of what I do for my own Self-Care. I’m not up for tackling anything heavy, so I figure this is a win all around.

Important disclaimers

There are some ground rules and expectations I want to set before I go any further.

  • That fact that these things help me DOES NOT mean they are going to help you.
  • I have ZERO desire to become some sort of social media Wellness Influencer.
  • I will not be asking you to buy any tonic, tincture, salve, balm, or poultice.
  • Anyone that claims to have a “sure-fire” cure for ANYTHING when it comes to mental health is almost certainly trying to take advantage of you.
  • Since my mental health challenges include quite a bit of social anxiety, I am going to focus on self-care I use that does not require direct interaction with other humans.
  • Han shot first.

Computer games

I have a long history of playing video games, all the way back to the Atari 2600. As far as console games, I later moved on to Nintendo, Sega Genesis, PlayStation, and XBOX. The first computer game I played/loved was Wizard’s Crown which was a fantasy role-playing game (RPG) for the Commodore 64. That got me hooked on RPGs. I love the process of turning a powerless character into a hero across a compelling story line. In recent years, I have focused mostly on playing games on computer rather than a console.

Here are computer games I really enjoy and find helpful when it comes to self-care:

  • Minecraft
    • I started playing Minecraft when it was still in beta, long before Microsoft (my employer) purchased Mojang, the studio that created Minecraft.
  • Diablo II: Resurrected
    • Activision Blizzard, the creator of the Diablo series has been in the news for the past year or so regarding sexual harassment and a toxic work environment for female employees and their response so far has been a shit-show. I had pre-ordered this game, an updated version of my favorite game of all time, before I learned about any of that. Since playing this game does not involve any additional money to play beyond that original purchase of the game I had already doled out, I still play it.
    • I was a long-time fan of World of Warcraft (WoW), another Activision Blizzard game, as well, which requires an ongoing subscription to play. As soon as I learned of the terrible circumstances described above, I cancelled my WoW subscription and uninstalled the game. Activision/Blizzard as it exists today will not get another dime from me.
    • Microsoft is in the process of acquiring Activision Blizzard, which gives me hope for the future. Perhaps, once this is finalized, and if I see real, profound proof that working conditions have improved for ALL Activision Blizzard employees and the management and other personnel that perpetrated/allowed the behavior/discrimination are out the door, I may consider WoW again.
  • Neverwinter Nights
    • I don’t really have a note that I wanted to put here, but the other games have one so I didn’t want Neverwinter Nights to feel left out.

I find playing these games both relaxing and fun. They offer a valuable distraction and diversion that helps me set aside my Depression and Anxiety for a while. None of these games require ongoing demands for fast fingers and reaction times. My ability to take out a Zombie in the games above is more about my character’s skills rather than my own. When I am struggling with Depression and/or Anxiety, and energy is hard to come by, this aspect makes playing these games a viable option more often than not.

Podcasts

I’ve only gotten into listening to Podcasts in the past year or so. While I listen to several podcasts, this post will highlight the ones that I consider part of my self-care. All of them provide me with a great balance of teaching me something new and making me laugh. To avoid pushing these podcasters toward jousting for my affection, I have listed them in alphabetical order.

  • Depresh Mode with John Moe
    • Honest, humane conversations with top artists, entertainers, and experts about what it’s like to live with an interesting mind. No shame, no stigma, and more laughs than you might expect from a mental health podcast.
  • Sawbones: A Marital Tour of Misguided Medicine
    • Join Justin and Dr. Sydnee McElroy on a marital tour of misguided medicine as they discuss the weird, gross, and sometimes downright dangerous ways we tried to solve our medical woes through the ages.
  • You’re Wrong About
    • You’re Wrong About is an American history and pop culture podcast created by journalist Michael Hobbes and writer Sarah Marshall. It has been hosted by Marshall since its inception; Hobbes also hosted until 2021. Launched in May 2018, the show explores misunderstood media events by interrogating why and how the public got things wrong.

Wrapping up

I find that taking time for myself is a vital part of my mental health. I understand that I am saying this as a straight, white, male living well above the poverty line, allowing me to benefit from large servings the privilege our modern society (at least in the United States) can give out. Not everyone has the means, time, opportunity to avail themselves of all the same things I have access to. I long for a world where EVERYONE has access to the resources they need, be that medical care, education, adequate food, a safe place to call home, and even just a damn hug (if they want one) once in a while.

Anxiety Disorder, ACID, and Cash Money

My anxiety spiked bigtime last Sunday. But what does that mean? What does that feel like? Thanks for asking. Let’s look at that together. I live with Generalized Anxiety Disorder. For me, that means I will just suddenly be in a panic, with no warning, about nothing in particular. The panic will have no specific subject for me. I won’t be panicked about something. Just panicked. I have blogged a bit about this before: Meet Dave: My Anxiety Vampire » Can’t Juggle (cantjuggle.com).

In this post, I would like to help educate those who don’t suffer from this type of disorder; hopefully increasing understanding and chipping away at the stigma that surrounds mental disorders in general. In the process, I am also hoping to help those who have dealt with anxiety/panic, beyond what the more neuro-typical members of our species face, to feel less alone.

We all experience anxiety

We have all experienced anxiety in our lives. When you are nervous before a date or a big presentation at work or school? Anxiety. When you are hosting family over the holidays and feel some stress over wanting everything to go well… Anxiety.

Basically, although perhaps a bit over-simplified, when it makes sense that you are nervous or stressed, and these feelings are an annoyance, but you are able to push through them without too much effort, then you are likely having a neuro-typical experience of anxiety.

Anxiety is a normal response to threat, and the discomfort it creates is meant to capture attention and stimulate a protective response.

“The Biology of Anxiety” page of Psychology Today website

We don’t all have anxiety disorders

If your anxiety/panic doesn’t seem to fit your situation, if it is out of proportion, if you cannot make sense of what it’s about, if it creates major obstacles for your daily life or even forces you to make different life choices in order to get around it, then it is likely not a neuro-typical experience of anxiety.

There’s a huge difference between having sweaty palms and an increased heart rate while teaching a room of 100+ people about databases (been there, done that) and pulling out of public speaking altogether because you feel outright terror about just being in a room with even 5 people (been there, done that).

But too often, the anxiety is excessive, or sustained, or inappropriate to what set it off, and it interferes with every-day functioning—or sets in motion maladaptive behaviors, from avoidance of threat-generating situations to substance use, to avoid the discomfort of anxiety.

“The Biology of Anxiety” page of Psychology Today website

This is not to say that anyone who experiences a period of intense anxiety has an anxiety disorder. Some of us, though, experience them frequently and sometimes for much longer durations than our more neuro-typical friends.

Anxiety is mental AND physical

Anxiety often involves thoughts or feelings, and even sometimes the lack of one or the other.

  • Racing thoughts that come fast and fly by too quickly to deal with
  • A single thought that is just so huge and so insistent that you have no energy or attention for anything else
  • Catastrophizing (those what-if scenarios of impending doom for you or loved ones or EVERYONE)
  • The intense desire/need to defend yourself or run away

All of those and more can be mental experiences of anxiety. Sometimes, our brains (without our conscious decision to do so) may just say, NOPE, and shut out everything so we aren’t seeing, hearing, feeling anything around us (dissociation). This is rather like the “burying your head in the sand” analogy, trying to make something go away by removing it from our lived experience.

From a biological perspective, anxiety triggers several physical changes. These include:

  • The amygdala part of our brain perceives a threat and sounds the alarm.
  • Adrenal glands flood the body with norepinephrine (adrenaline).
  • The pre-frontal cortex of the brain, which controls reasoning and decision making, and usually keeps the amygdala in check, is circumvented.
  • [more science stuff]
  • The body prepares all systems for the fight or flight for very survival.

The bypassing of the pre-frontal cortex is HUGE. Your brain actually shuts down your ability to reason, think, make rational decisions. This is why it is useless and just plain cruel to tell someone having an attack or anxiety/panic to “calm down.” It just makes no sense and, beyond providing less than zero help, may make them want to beat the shit out of you on top of everything else. Instead, before doing/saying anything, image that person set you on fire and then expects you to do long division. Then, with that scenario in mind, proceed from a place of empathy/compassion.

What anxiety/panic feels like for me

You’ve been startled before. Probably many times. Do you recall that tingling sensation that spikes just for a split second? That very brief, but very intense FUCK! that your body and mind experience? For me, anxiety/panic is almost identical…. except it can last for an hour or two or three… I don’t wish it on ANYONE.

And that is just DURING the attack. Because of the physical aspects of anxiety above, it leaves me utterly exhausted. My body had readied itself to fight or flight for survival; the fact that it didn’t NEED to do that is irrelevant.

ACID

I have never done drugs. So, not THAT acid.

I am a data professional. That means working with databases and tools for helping people make the best use of the information at their disposal. In database systems, there is a concept of a transaction: a collection of steps/tasks that must adhere to certain principals known as ACID in order to guarantee validity, among other things. A full discussion of ACID is beyond my scope here. I will focus just on one:

Atomicity: All the steps, parts of the transaction must either SUCCEED together or FAIL together as a unit.

Cash Money

A common way of learning about transactions is by thinking of a banking transaction. Suppose you want to transfer $100 from your Savings account to your Checking account. There are two pieces to this process:

  1. Withdrawing $100 from Savings
  2. Depositing $100 into Checking

It is really important for BOTH of these steps to occur. If the first step happens, but the second step does not, ACID properties of the transaction, as implemented by your bank, will put the $100 back into your savings. You lose nothing.

Anxiety doesn’t give a fuck about ACID properties of transactions. So, when it readies your body and mind for action, withdrawing that $100 from Savings, it doesn’t matter if you end up using that readiness to actually fight/flight for your life or not. It’s gone. You can recover over time, depositing other money into your savings account, but that $100 is lost.

Recovering

When my anxiety spiked last Sunday, even though I had my medication and coping skills to help, it kicked my ass. I ended up missing work on Monday. And I didn’t feel a whole lot better until Thursday. It is THAT profoundly draining. That’s it. I hope someone finds this helpful. And if not, I won’t worry about it… maybe.

Meet Dave: My Anxiety Vampire

Personification and Externalization

I have found great value in personifying and externalizing my mental illnesses and other aspects of the wild ride my brain treats me to. But what the hell does this even mean? Well, dear reader, I shall explain using some very concise and easy definitions adapted from Reid Wilson, Ph.D., Director of the Anxiety Disorders Treatment Center in Chapel Hill, NC, and contributor to Psychology Today. He is also that author of several books, including Stopping the Noise in Your Head.

I adapted the definitions below from Dr. Wilson’s article Wrestling With Anxiety in the Canadian Wilderness from May of 2020. It’s a brief, easy read and I recommend it. Anxiety, hiking, and bears! Oh, my!

Personification is the attribution of human-like identity to something, the subject, that is not a human. It is related to anthropomorphism in that it allows for treating the subject as a person you can address directly.

Externalization is perceiving of a part of yourself as being outside of yourself instead. Rather than being a part of you, it is something in a relationship with you.

Meet Dave

Face of Nosferatu from the 1922 film
Nosferatu

Since my Anxiety burst through the wall of my mind like the Kool-Aid Man a few years ago, I have been personifying and externalizing it in an effort to make it a bit easier to deal with. For me, my anxiety is a ferocious vampire (no stupid sparkling; #TeamAlice) named Dave that stands about 1 inch behind me almost all the time. Because he is so close, if he decides to get me, there is no possible way I would be able to prevent it. I am completely at his mercy.

When I look back at my childhood, and really throughout my entire life, I can see that Dave has been with me almost since day 1. I have always been leery and uncomfortable with my back to open doorways, darkness, or any other place where Dave or other creatures could be laying in wait for me.

What are you afraid of?

I was actually afraid A LOT as a kid. My parents even tried the practice of checking my room for monsters when they put me to bed. But, it didn’t work. You see, MY monsters were wily, persistent little shits; they would just come back as soon as my parents left the room or turned off the light. Nightlights were a huge deal for me; although I never had a blue canary nightlight until adulthood.

To this day, I seldom enjoy horror movies and tend to avoid them altogether. It still takes some effort, sometimes, to walk through a dark room in my house. Being outside alone after dark, even just to bring the trash and recycling bins to the curb, is often a nerve-wracking experience for me. I am able to push through and do what I need to do, but it takes more effort than it does for most people, I think.

Anxiety is not my enemy

Beavis kicking Butthead in the junk
Ouch

As humans evolved over the millennia, we developed fear and anxiety. These feelings helped to inspire caution, and ultimately helped us to survive as a species. It is easy for us to understand, today, that walking up a mountain lion and kicking it in the junk is not a scenario that is likely to end in our favor. But on a more primitive level, before we developed the brains we have today, it was the fear and caution that would have urged early humans to avoid junk-kicking exploits like this. Junk-kickers, those that didn’t exercise this caution, were less likely to be around long enough to procreate, making the junk-kicking trait less likely to pass on to future generations.

Thus, Anxiety, in a very real sense, was a vital asset to our success as a species. It exists as a means of trying to keep us safe. I find it helpful to keep this in mind and take it even a step further: Anxiety is not my enemy. It is a healthy part of me. It is not the fact that I experience anxiety that is a problem; it is the fact that I have an anxiety disorder that is the problem. My brain triggers anxiety far more frequently and forcefully than it needs to in its attempts to keep me safe. It sees more danger in more places or even just DANGER in all the places. Which brings us back to Dave.

Dave is my hero

Dave, as the personification and externalization of my anxiety, just wants to ensure my safety. He wants to keep me from being eaten. So, rather than standing 1 inch behind me to try and get me, he stands there to guard me. He has my back. My Generalized Anxiety Disorder makes Dave way more active than he needs to be. He needs to spend less time crying wolf and more time sitting in a corner with his coloring books and crayons. But he’s on my team (#TeamDave). He, like my Paladin, is my hero.

From Can’t Juggle But Did It Anyway To Just Can’t

What’s this blog about?

When I was thinking about starting a personal blog about my experiences with mental illness, namely, Depression and Anxiety, I wracked my brain for something interesting to call it. I wanted it to be memorable. I wanted it to be short. I wanted it to imply that there would be some humor thrown in. And I wanted it to have some meaning for me, preferably on more than one level. I’m pretty happy with where this landed. “Cant’ Juggle” accomplishes every one of those goals. Besides, Hippopotamus was taken. In this inaugural post, I will share the story behind the title; and hopefully give you a preview of the content you will find here if you choose to stick around.

Years ago, when I started working as a data professional, I got to attend a lot of conferences. Almost always, I was a speaker as well. I loved standing on a stage and teaching people about various tools and technologies and making them laugh while I did it. Some of these events would have community zone areas for just hanging out that were strewn with beanbag chairs. It was a great place to spend time between sessions, on meal brakes, etc. I met great people here and made friends.

Can’t juggle

At one particular event, I was in a community zone with several other folks, but it was largely empty. Many of the beanbag chairs were unoccupied. I decided to see if I could juggle them. Why? Was anyone else juggling these vacant beanbag chairs? Of course not. What moron would even think of such a thing? It certainly wasn’t because I could juggle. I could not. Maybe I figured the attempt would be fun and might even garner a few laughs.

So I thought, fuck it. Without a word, I walked over to a group of chairs, grabbed three, and moved to an open area away from anyone. Then I went for it, trying to figure out the mechanics of juggling as I went. The first bag I threw sailed about twelve feet away and hit the ground. I went and grabbed it and tried again. And again. And again.

Wow! Mark’s an AMAZING juggler! Just top notch!
~ No one. Ever.

It was hysterically bad. I never even came close. I spent far more time wandering about picking up the chairs I threw beyond my reach than anything else. But it was indeed fun and it did indeed garner some laughs, including from me. Then it became a mission. Whenever I was not in a session or when the community zone was sparsely populated (so my colossal failures didn’t hurt anyone), I could be found tossing beanbag chairs around like an imbecile.

Nothing personal, but….
Fuck this guy and his stoopid juggling.

Photo by juan pablo rodriguez on Unsplash

But did it anyway

Then it happened. With two chairs in my left hand, I threw one up. While it was coming down, I threw up the one in my right hand just before catching the chair that was already airborne. Then I did the same with my left hand and so on. Once. One full revolution, before it all went to shit. A few seconds of outright victory that tasted so sweet. Kind of like Fortune Bubble Gum from the 1980s. Wonderful for a few seconds and then death. I wasn’t aware of how racist the packaging, etc., was at the time. I was just a kid. But since I do now, I chose to just link to it instead of putting an image in here. Growth.

Did I stop there, having conquered a small corner of the beanbag chair juggling world? Did I end on a high note like when John Elway won the Super Bowl with the Denver Broncos in 1999 and then retired? Of course not. I kept at it. In all my attempts at subsequent conferences, I never succeeded again. I never successfully juggled anything else either.

This is not a cautionary tale about juggling beanbags or any other barely jugglable objects. This is not really a cautionary tale at all. But it does establish the kind of outgoing, fun-loving person that I was. I loved making people laugh. And sometimes I would try ridiculous things to make people laugh. And I loved it. I was presenting at conferences, and emceeing company meetings at the consulting firm I worked for, and being told (more than once) that I should hire myself out just to attend parties and functions because I brought so much energy and fun and humor with me wherever I went.

Just can’t

X All The Y Meme | CAN'T; ALL THE THINGS | image tagged in memes,x all the y | made w/ Imgflip meme maker

So, when I tell you that I have spent a substantial portion of the past 3 years afraid to leave my house; afraid to leave my basement office; afraid to be near people; near ANYONE; I want you to understand my full meaning.

I started having such soul-crushing fatigue from Depression that I actually didn’t know if I could keep breathing; actually despairing, “FUCK. I have to breath again in a few seconds…. How am I going to do that?”; or being perfectly still and getting so exhausted from it that I thought if I could just lay down, it would be better, only to realize I was already laying down; I was already doing NOTHING and it was too much (by a LOT). I was too exhausted to move, just from EXISTING. Too terrified of EVERYTHING to be near my family. From Can’t Juggle But Did It Anyway to just Can’t.

Where do we go from here?

In subsequent posts, I will walk through this descent in more detail, including some of the childhood trauma that had a major impact on me, even if it took a while to bubble over. I will also share how I came back from the mouth of the abyss. I’m back to work now, and have been for quite a while. I still have bad days, but fewer of them, and the ones I have are less bad.

I think that’s enough for this first post. I dug the foundation that future posts will be based on. Gave an inkling of the kinds of experiences I plan to share. I hope you will stick around for it. I’ll keep writing anyway. But if I can have this energy expenditure pay off by helping people, then so much the better.

One last thing. I have never heard of anyone else ever juggling beanbag chairs. So, I have to entertain the possibility that I may be the greatest beanbag chair juggler of all time. Just… you know. Just saying.

Addendum

My good friend, Doug Lane (blog|twitter) not only witnessed many of my beanbag chair juggling exploits, but even recorded some back in November of 2012 at the Washington State Convention Center in Seattle, WA. You can now see videos of my beanbag chair juggling, including my one an only success on my new page The Tiniest Bit of Juggling.