Messy

Gun’s Quote-of-the-Week:

“A messy desk offers this advantage: it offers unexpected discoveries every day.”

-LLIC 2006

In the summer of 2013, I was officially diagnosed with Depression and General Anxiety Disorder. I started a year-long treatment program which included counseling, diet, exercise and medication. It actually took a little longer than a year, but it is finally under control. Finally.

Most people think that Depression makes you sad. While some of that is true, it mostly makes you unable to function. You don't open your mail because you're afraid of the $30 co-pay you owe to the eye doctor. You tremble in fear at work because you think everything you do will get you fired. You only see what you did wrong so you don't try to do anything because you don't think you can do anything right. So you just do nothing.

Today, I had the very difficult task of starting to go through my desk at home.

The desk contained mail, tax forms, receipts, bank statements, 401k statements, manuals, warranty registration cards, insurance, medical, etc. They are forms and correspondence that I simply stashed because I was so overwhelmed by them. It also included wedding invitations, Christmas cards and even magazines and newspapers. Some are over two years old. Never opened.

Today was going to be tough because I knew what I would find. There would be the couple who have already celebrated an anniversary (or two!) that never got my RSVP, let alone a gift. Bills that would be well beyond late. I already found a “We’re turning you over to collections” letter. I didn’t pay taxes to the State of Kansas last year.

Today would be tough because I knew that I would have to pick up the responsibilities that I dropped when I was ill. That’s what it is… an illness. I know enough to know now that there is something wrong with a person whenever they can’t even conjure up the energy to open an envelope. That’s a problem, folks, and one in which I’m so very grateful that I’ve solved.

That does little to stave off the emotion of disappointment, though, that I am feeling now. Make no mistake; I accept responsibility for my actions (or, better stated, lack thereof) and refuse to make an illness a scapegoat. I will make this right and will pay whatever is owed of me. That said, I accept this responsibility mostly because I refused to get help (or accept it) when I most needed it. It was easier to bury my head in the sand than to face reality. Now, I’m more committed than ever to make sure this doesn’t happen again. This week hasn’t been fun.

If refusing to do some of the simplest tasks in life, thinking everything is a crisis, making a mountain out of a molehill and not wanting to do normal, healthy, human activities sounds like you or somebody you know, call a professional doctor. If they refuse help, poke, prod and dig in. They will thank you later; I promise.

Trust me: there are much more fun things to do on your Christmas break than to go through more than a years’ worth of mail and receipts.

…and that’s why it’s a Gun’s Quote!

Emptiness

Gun’s Quote-of-the-Week:

“It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.”

-Jonathan Safran Foer

I ran out of quotes.

How did that happen? I was able to find the source of inspiration for this little thing I do called “The Gun’s Quotes” in so many different places. Maybe it was a conversation that I had. Maybe it was something I read while perusing the news during lunch. Maybe it was a thought that came to me during church. A good chunk of them came to me in college. Little tidbits of wisdom from a friend, a pastor or a professor or two. The first one came from a locker room… way back almost 15 years ago when I was in high school dressing up for what would be an eventual beat-down. (Spoiler Alert: Our team was the one that got the beat-down.)

Then it stopped. I had used Google to download quotes from random sources based upon a feeling I had that night, but it seemed forced. There was no longer this flow of inspiration or the ability to pick-up on it. Somehow, over the course of the last several years, I found myself less inspired, less intrigued by beauty, less aware of the tiny little lessons that life teaches you as you walk on by. In a phrase, it became a burden to do what used to be free-flowing and uplifting, awe-striking and inspiring. What happened?

Not satisfied with taking two or three hours to write where it used to take 30-45 minutes, I stopped. Creative juices can’t be squeezed from a fruit. They are more like maple trees. You need to leave your empty bucket there for a few days and then come back to find it full. There is nothing you can do to speed up the process. If it took too long for the bucket to fill, I went to the next tree. Eventually, however, my orchard ran out.

Wait a minute… did the orchard run out or did I simply not want to wait around anymore, finding the simple task of waiting too slow for a life that was quickly speeding up? Have I become what I have so often preached against… too busy to stop and smell the roses? Is the inspiration still there and I’m just too busy to stop and listen?

The fact that I have to ask that question is pretty damning evidence that, indeed, that is the case.

How does one solve this? The answer can only be to slow down again. Speeding up, however, is easy in comparison to the act of stopping. Once you are used to a certain pace, slowing back down is agonizing. It seems as though others around you can’t keep it or drag you down. For a time, it seems like grandma is in the passing lane, driving slower than the rest of the traffic. All you want to down is slam on the accelerator again.

You can’t. Otherwise, you will miss the wildflowers that are on the side of the highway, waving in the wind. Suddenly, you come to realize that this slow driver in front of you, who won’t let you by, was really a guardian angel, close friend or family member who got in your way intentionally so that you could see something that you would have otherwise missed.

I’ve missed writing these things and the source of inspiration that caused them in the first place.

What have you been missing?

…and that’s why it’s a Gun’s Quote!