Tag: progress

Beyond a Break-Up

Over the last week or so, the Boy and I have been in regular communication. In fact, we’ve seen each other, in person, two times in the last forty-eight hours. Both times have been deeply reaffirming for both of us, and have led us to understand that there is, in fact, a bond between us that exists, possibly outside of normal labels and nomenclature.

For now, we are exploring things without the weight of title or expectation. We are embracing the moments we share together without distraction and in full-view honesty with each other. It’s been utterly refreshing to show him the side of me that he once fell in love with. The joyful, unpressurized, full-on person that I can be, with my goofy personality and a bit askew takes on how I view the world around me, all gets to take a seat in the space he and I share, and I think it’s been really good for him to both get to know me that way, again, and for me to let go of the expectations I thought he had for me.

Things aren’t moving in any sort of way with him and I. They just…are. This energy? It’s just existing. Simply. In the present-tense.

And it’s feeling so joyous and closer to perfection that I ever thought possible.

The concept of a Break Up is just as important to explore as Falling In Love, to be honest. What does it mean to “break up” with someone? How does one reconcile the space between one and another who, in a literal previous moment, held a different place in our hearts? Does it undo all that came before, like an existential erase-and-rewind, or is it possible to integrate those memories into a better future? What choices need to be made, in that one moment, to ensure that both people are left feeling both informed and supported, even through what feels like the darkest of dark moments?

We’ve chosen to explore a world beyond those boundaries and demarcations. We’ve decided to let go of all those frameworks, foisted upon us by outside forces, and just let whatever shape this energy between us decides to form simply exist as it wants to, without restraint or guidance or containment. If it changes through time – which all relationships do, all the time – then so be it. I know he’s seeking something different than what I can provide, perhaps, but then I might also change my focus as well. We are two bodies in close-orbit with each other, but each with their own surface temperatures, textures, and storms. We can co-exist as separate entities and entities that share a bond. Recognizing this as a reality, not only in my relationship with the Boy, but with regards to all of the relationships in my whole life, is a fucking SPIN on the HEAD of everything I’ve ever been taught about Love in all of its various forms.

The fact is, my whole body does react to him. Hell, even typing all of this out is sending a relaxing vibe through my body, blood to all of my extremities, and a warm fuzzy feeling in my mind. I can’t deny that part of our connection, nor do I want to. Last night, over a delightful dinner and time spent being personal with each other, we both remained vulnerable and in the moment in a way that was such a positive experience. It’s hard to put it into words. You just had to be there, I guess.

This is how I love.

This is my path.

And the more I spend time on this rocky trail, I realize that it’s the closest I’ve ever been to being my authentic, true self. It’s wild that it’s taken me till 45 years of age to get here, but sometimes time just doesn’t matter. Not in the formation of the human psyche or mind space. I am my own vessel on my own journey, and I don’t need to live in shame for how I interface with the world around me. It works for me, and that’s all that matters. Open-hearted, willing to explore those threads of connectivity, and let the energy flow where it wants…more please. Much more of this, in fact.

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Half-Way

Today is Imbolc, the half-way holiday between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox.

Around here, that means there’s daylight in the sky (barely) until 6p and that brings me joy. This winter has been a mix of joy and light, but also darkness and brooding.

The Boy has been decompressing from his move here back in October, and the slide down from that initial excitement and engagement with a new life in a new place has transitioned into a darker depression than I think neither him, nor I, were ready for. Lots of questions about the longevity of our connection have emerged, and there’s lots of worry from both of us about the path forward.

Along with all of this, I’ve been working with a new therapist and psychologist to get my meds right and my therapy on the track it needs to be on. So far, the meds are still wobbly (but working), and the therapy is about to take a deep-dive into an old place of sadness and pain that I’ve been avoiding for the better part of twenty-five years. It’s not going to be easy, and on the flip, it runs the risk of making me emotionally unavailable to him, and to other people in my life who count on me to be their support. I *know* they all know this is how it sometimes goes, but I really do loathe not being strong enough to carry all the weight.

I am Dad, after all.

Still, there are buds on the trees. The daffodils in protected corners are reaching for the heavens, even when the sky remains mostly cloudy and grey. The moments the sun is out are fortuitous and warm. There is a sparkle of optimism and hope that is alive in every peep and cheep from the hummingbirds and chickadees that surround our apartment complex. Life is continuing and moving onward, and the sun is returning. Not all is lost.

David and I had a lovely date yesterday, having had lunch at a food cart pod, and then visiting a really great comic book store. After returning home, we had a very lovely intimate session in his room. Deep in embrace, I admitted I was scared of losing him. He admitted he was scared of losing me too. Putting those fears out on the table, however, I think has reduced the amount of space and energy they take up in our brains, and we recommitted to putting more effort in wherever we could to make this work. We deeply, deeply love each other, and are a team when it comes to facing down the adversities we share. While I can’t totally remedy the roadblocks ahead of him, nor can he mine, we can be there for each other, in ways that extend beyond just a hug, or a fuck, or even a hand-hold.

I also know that, in the end, his life is vast and has many more curves and pathways ahead for him. While I might not always be in his life physically, I am resolute in the belief I will be in his life, somehow, until the end of my days here. Nothing can shake that from me, ever.

And, this morning, as my coffee swirls under the light of a shitty overhead apartment fixture, I feel secure in at least where my heart lies.

I’m ready to do this work ahead of me, so that I might be an even better lover to David, to my husband, and to my other partners who do lean and rely on me to be there for them, as much as they’ve been there for me.

This is how it works.

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Mental Health Days

I grew up in a world where mental health concerns were the stuff of humor and ridicule. Mental health hospitals were deemed terms like “looney bin” and “psycho ward” and the like. Conversations about people with mental health issues included terms like “bat-shit crazy” and “psychotic” in ways that indicated derision and a derogatory tone. Mental health issues were a shameful thing, best dealt with quietly, in the darkness, and out of sight. Nobody admitted they were on pills to cope. Ever.

For years, I cast off any suggestion that I had depression, or needed therapy, or any help at all. I denounced all mental health meds as just “crutches for the weak” (again, ableist as fuck) and denied myself the care I clearly needed because of the stigma around not being normal.

That stopped, fully, last year, when I started down a path towards my own mental health improvement. My anxiety and depression had gotten so bad that it was affecting how I interacted with the people I love. I was sleeping maybe 4-5 hours a night, my insides were always in a knot, and my drinking had grown exponentially. I needed to come to terms with my old ways of thinking, and admit that I needed help.

Thankfully, I had (and still have) a wonderful support network around me to lean on when shit hits the fan. Dad’s not as strong as he’d like to be, but then again, the definition of “strength” is malleable. I’m learning a lot about the bullshit I carried around for years. I’m working through it. Part of that journey meant coming to terms with my needs at work. I finally applied for an intermittent medical leave, a protected right under the federal Family Medical Leave Act, which will help me both keep my job, and work even harder on my mental health needs and growth.

Today, I finally took advantage of this protection for the first time.

I woke up feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, and as I looked at my scheduled day – 12 hours at the handle of my train – and felt myself already mentally crushing under the weight of that. I made a choice. Today is a self-care day. I have been running hard for a few days straight now, and I’ve hit a wall. Mentally and physically. I lost track of myself yesterday, forgot my meds, and started to grind my own self down.

This decision runs smack against everything I’ve ever been taught about work and reliability and all of that. I still struggle with these old ways of thinking, still refer to myself as “broken” when that’s not fully accurate. Perhaps, today, as I recover and pull myself together again, I will ruminate on the way I talk about my own mental health and wellbeing.

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Second Life

It’s really hitting that I need some massive changes in my life. My job in public transit is steady and even, in terms of pay and such, but man, it’s taking the life right out of my body at pretty steady flow. It has been for a number of years now, and I’m fed up with it.

Over the last six months or so, I’ve taken up with something that was suggested to me by my old fitness coach, and gone and got myself certified as a personal trainer and nutrition coach.

Turns out, I fucking love it.

I’ve got a couple of paying clients, with more on the way (if we are a match), and I find myself really enjoying the interactions with people who want to make changes in their lives with regards to food and fitness.

Who the hell knew this Certified Fat Kid from Maine would ever find himself *happy at a gym,* let alone THRILLED to be helping others find happiness at the gym, or even in the kitchen?

Certainly not me.

What this has caused in my life, though, has been a cascade of changes that I’m ready to make, even at this later stage of things.

I applied for a job with the US Forest Service yesterday, as a person who would work in a visitor’s center helping people with information and pass purchases as they entered our nation’s national forests. The pay isn’t much, but it is government work, and it’s in a field that I’ve always loved and wanted to be part of – outdoor recreation and conservation – and would more than likely bring me joy.

I plan on seeking out other opportunities and applying for them as well, in any number of areas of work. I have literally nothing to lose by sticking my hat in a variety of rings, and probably a lot more to gain by seeing where it all takes me.

Yes, even at 45, I feel like I have so much more I could be doing with my time that would be more beneficial to the world, and to myself, in terms of mental health and supporting Joy and Goodness in my life. Why I feel like I’m tied to a job that is literally running me into the ground is beyond me, and I refuse to believe that this is all I’m capable of. I know, for a fact, that I could be doing so much more with my time.

I guess the phrase “Stay Tuned” is applicable here. Dad’s not done finding his way, it seems.

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Dad’s State of Mind

Things started getting really tricky for me back towards the end of the first year of the Pandemic We All Hate (COVID-19). I’d managed to open up my heart, and love in a way that’s true to who I am, but because of lockdowns and such, forming a stronger bond with those who were far away became next to impossible. I found myself constrained and contained, much like the rest of the world, and stuck in an inside-space, with all of the inside-thoughts that come with that.

Things at work had also taken a turn. No longer were my transit vehicles full of commuters and people just getting around the metro area for one reason or another. Suddenly, it was empty vehicles, or vehicles that became rolling shelters for those without homes, and just as suddenly, I was in a place of damage mitigation and social support for those in need. None of which, I might add, I was trained to handle. I was raw-dogging my way through things, just like everyone else was.

Two COVID infections myself, one short-term relationship with a fellow who decided he preferred a monogamous match rather than being part of a polyamorous situation, and myself left with a broken heart in a broken world, 2021 was shaping up to be one of the most challenging years of my life to date.

Amazingly, though, in that year, I met David the DJ, and Dylan, both of whom quickly became solid supporters of me and my mental health. Both of them had begun the journey of getting a handle on their own mind matters, and it was while learning from them that I began to take steps for myself. Panic attacks at work, along with a severe lack of sleep, and running into anxiety walls while working out all had me back on my heels, worried about what was going on in my head. It was, in fact, a lack of boners, that sent me to the doctors. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’d been missing sex a LOT and suddenly, the machinery that I’ve been depending on for all of my post-pubescent years just wasn’t operational. It was a real problem, for sure.

Since starting therapy, and going down my own mental health wellness path, I’ve been making some pretty decent progress. I’ve recognized where loads of my old trauma responses come from. I’ve begun the process of sifting and sorting and healing from old wounds I wasn’t even aware I was carrying. I’ve started to really make new mental connections to the concepts of love and desire and want and validity. Truly, over the last eight months, I’ve made some real growth.

But, as was the case today, there are still moments of opportunity for me. Today was a challenge of a day.

I’ve fallen in with two beautiful men as of late. One, Cody, lives in Tucson and I met him over my trip to see Above & Beyond at the Gorge Amphitheater a little over a month ago. He and I formed a strange and beautiful bond that’s persisting and thriving, in ways I was not expecting. Then, there’s another David, a young man I met online who was living in Philadelphia, who has recently moved to Salt Lake City, and who, for some reason I have as of yet to fully ascertain, has opened up his heart and world to me. Both of these wonderful connections have so much potential for Joy and Goodness and all the things that relationships can include. It’s a damn Good Thing, and I’m super-duper lucky.

Except that I don’t feel worthy of it. Not fully. Like, I don’t know if I deserve their affections and attentions. Today, as I asked myself “are you worthy” while at the gym, my mind went into chaos-mode, and a panic attack unlike I’d ever felt before, really reared up. I called out of work, knowing full well I’d be unsafe to operate a vehicle in this state of mind, and then made a bee-line, with the dog, to the forest for a respite.

I quieted myself next to the Clackamas River, while Steinbeck kept watch. I let him swim and take a deep drink of the cold mountain water, and as we drove, he leaned in on me more than once, as though to check on me, and tell me I’m worthy of his love. We passed a lone cyclist, who was riding towards the forest, who just reached high and gave us an excited wave, which I returned in kind. He also saw me as worthy, it would seem. I got home, turned back on my connectivity to the world by taking my phone out of Do Not Disturb mode, and caught a message from young David, and DJ David, and Cody, all of whom were checking in on me. All of whom, it would appear, see me as worthy.

I had a vulnerable moment in a video chat with young David, and told him of my struggles. His response has been one of love and gratitude for my allowing him to see this side of me. A text message chain with Cody brought similar results.

Today, I learned that I am worthy of the love I’ve been shown. It was coming at me from all directions, though not from my own inside-self.

I need to continue the work on building up my own sense of self-worth, and not need to rely on external topping off of such things as much. That, for me, is the state of play in my mind these days. I know there’s much more work to do.

by Thom Categories: TasteTags: , , , , , , , ,

Locked Down, Again

I started to feel off on Saturday. Scratchy throat, headache, and a dry cough that no amount of cough drops could soothe. I wasn’t stuffed up, and my allergy meds and nasal spray weren’t really doing any heavy lifting, so I figured I’d rule out something I’d thought I’d been vaccinated and immunized against for a while now – COVID-19.

Turns out, that’s exactly what I’ve managed to contract. Again. For the third time.

Sunday, my positive test result took the wind out of my sails. I called off work, let them know that I was poz, and sat in kind of a blank-stare stupor for most of the day. How was this possible? I mean, I know how it’s possible. This virus is very, VERY happy to mutate, and since my last infection, and last dose of vaccine, I’ve lost count of how many variants have been discovered and labeled and started their march across humanity. I don’t know which strain I have now, and it doesn’t matter, but the symptoms are vaguely familiar, though not as sharp/steep as the previous rounds I’ve had with this coronavirus.

This is a forced time out. This is the universe telling me “chill, bro” and catch your breath (as best as you can, the virus has my chest all kinds of tight). So, that’s what I’ve been doing. No, that’s actually not quite true.

I’m not a “chill, bro” kind of person.

In fact, what I have been doing is working on the things I have been kicking down the road for a while now out of a lack of time and focus strength. I’ve started to put into place the pieces I need to launch my coaching career, and so far, with only a few minor hiccups, things seem to be rolling on.

I have a site up – kind of quick-and-dirty and subject to refinement – that both markets my coaching skills and links to software that I will be using to engage with my clients. Right now, I have three beta-testers who are getting twelve weeks of nutrition coaching for free in exchange for their feedback on elements and the process along the way. I will be coaching them for sure, but part of our check-ins will also be to get feedback on the process, software, information, and how well my coaching aligns with the curriculum they’ve got for themselves.

I’ve gotten some intake surveys from the people who’ve started, and immediately, I am finding myself focusing in on both the areas I’m spotting that have the most need for my help, and setting expectations for myself, and for my clients, about what areas I want to really hone in on for them.

I’m really, really excited for this! It is tapping all the way into my Healer/Teacher/Guide self, and I feel like I can make a MASSIVE impact on the people who engage with me, if I trust my instincts and listen with my heart and mind aligned.

I feel really, really in alignment. For the first time in a long time.

This journey is just getting started, and I’m excited for it. I can already sense some massive doors just starting to peek open for me, and it’ll be up to me to both check what’s behind them, remain vigilant for opportunities that align with who and what I am, and to remain in this state of utter gratitude for this opportunity to change how I engage with the world around me.

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On the Mountain

I cleared my own calendar on Wednesday.

Things at home, and at work, had been demanding so much space, so much energy, that I could feel myself spinning out of control. I needed grounding and stability, and a break from it all. I needed to get out of signal, out of touch, and find myself a good pace among trees and rocks and flowers.

I needed the mountain. She was calling to me.

Mount Hood stands prominent in my life as a person who lives in Portland, Oregon. The distant stratovolcano is a sense of place and vulnerability to me, where at any moment, she could blow her top, but at the same time, beckons me with every glance I take towards her, to come and be among her crags and rocks and trails and paths. I love it up there, on her various outcroppings and vista points. I love the smell, the sound, the feel of the ground beneath my feet on her slopes.

The hike was exactly what I needed to find my footing. Decisions about my current situation, my future steps, and how I feel about the direction of my life, were made. The shape of my heart, who occupies it, the level of energy I devote to them, and to myself, were all brought into balance for a while. I shed some tears as my mind relaxed and my body was in motion, and it felt like a much-needed release.

I have some major changes to make in my life, especially with regards to how I earn my living, and how I interact with those around me, and I need to be brave enough to believe in myself. It’s the same bravery I engage every time I tackle a trail up there, with loose stone and steep cliffs, and opportunities to become injured or killed at every juncture. If I can tackle these trails with confidence and agility, surely I can face down the challenges in my life ahead of me that require the same skills.

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Taking It Further

In the last few months, I’ve made the start on a new journey for myself. I’ve decided to become a certified Nutrition Coach and certified Personal Trainer.

The idea was lit for me by my former fitness coach, Jason, who runs a large online fitness group situation, and has taught me all of the fundamentals of body recomposition, strength, and nutrition. He and I parted ways as coach/client back at the start of this year, but I don’t think our connection is broken. In fact, after further emails with him, he suggested I should become a peer, and in fact, that’s what I’m trying to do.

As of earlier last week, I finished up my Nutrition Coach certification through Precision Nutrition.

See? It’s Official!

I have another six chapters to complete my NASM Personal Trainer certification, but that’s well underway. I know I can do this.

Doing all of this refocus on my skills and abilities at the gym, and turning those skills into something that could make me money, has been a huge learning curve and massive leap of faith. I haven’t taken the plunge yet, but there will be, if all goes well, a change in my whole life, once I get these certifications under my belt and start working with actual clients to do actual coach/client interactions.

I cannot wait, to be honest. I simply cannot wait.

In the meantime, I’m also stepping up my own game at the gym.

I’ve recalibrated my calories and macros to set me up for recomposition and growth. I’m hitting personal records and busting through them again. I can feel the power and strength I’m growing in my flesh. I

Coincidentally, I’ve also given up alcohol, remain smoke free, and am making deep progress with my mental health as well.

Stay tuned. Daddy’s turning a new page, it seems.

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Shifting Gears

I put down the alcohol for a while. As of today, I’m nineteen days sober. It’s not anything to write home about, but it’s also not nothing. I realized, nineteen day ago, that my time and energy and money doesn’t need to be spent at the bars. Nor do I require alcohol to make me feel some kind of way in the presence of other gay man. In fact, I make more of an ass of myself liquored up than I do in real-time, and that’s the damn truth.

I might not be drinking booze, but that doesn’t mean
I won’t still pop into my favorite locals to shoot the shit.

In that clarity, I’ve also made more choices.

I’m done with the job I currently have. I know, I’m forty-fucking-four years old, and now isn’t the time to be messing around with my career and that’s unstable talk and yadda yadda boomer bullshit whatever. I’m done with what I do, and am seeking a change. So? I’ve begun to learn the ins and outs of being a nutrition coach. I’m also, once the books arrive, beginning my certification to be a personal trainer.

Your Dad here spends a fuck-load of time at the gym already. I’ve been at it for nearly five years now, and while I might not have the body of some Damned God or whatever, I know what I’m doing in that Hall of Iron. I know what moves do what things, how to work for leanness or bulking, and the benefits of a cardio finish, even on leg day. So why not throw my hat out there and see if I can help someone else with this, for money. Dad’s gonna hustle a bit, if it can possibly lead to some goddamned freedom with my life and how I make a living.

I’m still working on a business name, but ”Lone Wolf Fitness & Nutrition” kinda hits.

I haven’t been this fucking into something in a long-ass time. The more bullshit that gets thrown at me at my current job, the more fired up I am to do this thing. Wish me luck, or at least pay attention. Shit’s happening around here, and it’s getting so much better.

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