So Tired

I am so Tired ...

I am tired of being unmotivated.

I am tired of being sick.

I am tired of not being the husband I should and could be.

I am tired of avoiding meaningful or needed conversations with my son in case I upset him.

I am tired of being befuddled 90% of the time.

I am tired of not trusting and not being trusted.

I am tired of pain.

I am tired of taking myself out of situations with friends and family because of weight and health issues.

I am tired of wearing the same few items of clothing over and over again because I don't want to buy even bigger clothing.

I am tired of not being able to verbalize what is going on and instead turning away from people who love me and just want to help.

I am tired of hearing "You can do it!"

I am tired of not being able to fully commit to work.

I am tired of waiting for something that may not come.

I am tired of failed attempts at improving myself.

I am tired of being "So Tired".

I am tired of being me.

I am just so very, very Tired.

Fathers and Sons

     One of the most emotional moments I shared with my Father was a few months after my graduation for Fanshawe College's Television Broadcasting program.  I had just turned twenty-four and still had not found a job in my chosen field.  I was sitting on our backyard deck feeling very, very sorry for myself and my Dad came out and sat with me.  My emotions have always been close to the surface but I usually, like many kids, kept that part away from family.  Dad could sense that something was up and he quietly sat next to me and let me tell him all about it.  Anger, sadness, desperation and self doubt flowed like Niagara Falls.  The "Why Me's" were top of the list.  Had I made a mistake?  What was my life going to like?  Was I a failure!  I can't remember his exact words but it boiled down to "Everything is going to be alright.  You are a good person with a good heart and you will find your way."  Of course he was right.  Within a month I began to volunteer at the local Community Channel and with in six weeks I had a part time job there.  A little over six months later I had a full time job there and began a twenty-seven year career that I am very proud of.  Everything was alright.
     My son is going to be 20 years old in 59 days from me writing this post (Sept. 14, 2014).  Like the majority of young adults his age he is longing for complete independence from his parents.  I am looking forward to that day as well.  Not that I want to kick my son out of my house, I don't!  I want to know that, for him, "everything is going to be okay". 
      That's the other side that I did not see in 1984 when my Dad sat on the backyard deck with me.  He wasn't worried that I would not make it or that I was going to fail.  He had complete confidence in my ability as do I for my own son.  What I now know is that he could, no matter how hard he tried, take away my sadness and self doubt with a few words.  On that day I did not jump up smiling and say to Dad, "Wow, greet talk Dad.  Love you!"  I did not run up the street to the Community Channel and bang on the door.  It took me almost a month after that conversation to made the decision to go.  I needed to go when I was ready.
     Bottom line.  I want my son to know that "Everything is going to be Okay".  He is a good person with a good heart.  He is well liked and smart.  What ever is going on with him, he is not alone.  His Mom and I will always be there for him, even when he thinks we are a pain in the ass or nagging him.  That can't change.  I began writing this post thinking that the end result was me telling my boy that I was going to stay out of his business and just be there for him.  I am sorry, I wish I could but I am not done being a parent.  I have some good stuff left in me, least of all, my never ending love for him and the man he is today.  And if his mother and I say or do something that pisses him off, I want him to know that we do it because we can't help it.  We do it because we love him so very, very much and that "Everything is gong to be Alright!"

An Honest talk about Friendship

     I want to talk about Friends.  No, not the TV show F*R*I*E*N*D*S, which is one of my most favorite shows.  The photo on the left is known as an attention grabber and also indulges my love for all things Television.  No, I want to talk about friends as it relates to myself.
     I re-read an older post, the Pain of Being a Wall Flower (Feb. 9, 2013).  It stunned me! Much of what I wrote there was a lie.  I am trying hard to remember why I wrote these inaccuracies?   Yes, I do regress into the background often but I do the same thing with my wife and son.  Even with them I zone out and conversations are short.   I am sure my wife said something at the time about the post, but I likely dismissed it or was in another world.  And outside of the family I am also not really listening many times to what is being said to me or around me.  I now know that it was ADHD affecting me.  It's not that I drop out of conversations, it's that I often don't hear them at all.  I am far, far away doing who knows what. 
      I can tell you that I have been trying to improve.  Now that I know why it happens, I do it I try to consciously engage in conversations.  I find that I am better at the one on one conversations than the group gab fests. 
      Now back to my "Friends" theme.  I have been wondering lately how this has affected my friendships over the years.  I sure many people have looked at me and thought that I was stuck up or uninterested in what they had to say.  No to both of those.  I just could not stay in the moment.  It was like someone had a rope tied around my waist and had yanked me away in mid talk.  I can think back on many situations with friends, family and colleagues, when potential friendships and career opportunities were lost.
      Any of my friends reading this may say that they did not notice it but I am sure if they thought of it, they would remember me as being more of a "listener" than contributing to the conversation.  I say to you, please, if you can, give me a verbal or even physical nudge.  Bring me back.  I don't want to be that person who drifts away and most certainly I don't want my wife affected because I come with the "package".   I want to be a part of your lives and to any new friends I have made recently and those to come ... don't be afraid to hit me up side the head.  I can do better.

Your Friend -- Mike

O' Captain, My Captain

      This is so sad.  What baffles me is how could someone so loved not find the help he needed?  When Robin Williams passed earlier this week I was not prepared for the news at all.  My wife texted me.  I was at my doctor's office and was in a bad state of mind to begin with.  Months with barely enough sleep, my doctor had suggested that I take a break from the ADHD meds and try a sleeping pill.  "Let's see if a good night's rest will help?"  We'll the pill did not work and I could not get back in to see the doctor again for a month.  So for that month I had no sleep and no ADHD meds to boot.  I was waiting to see the doctor when I got that text.
     Anyone who grew up in the 70's followed Robin William's career starting with the wonderful silliness of Mork.  You could tell he was something special.  The way he would go off on tangents and improve.  At that time adlibbing on set even just a little was frowned upon.  He did it for most of each episode.  You could tell by the look in his fellow actor's faces that, at times, they had no idea what was coming next.  For any other performer that would have spelt disaster but for Robin Williams he was just getting started.  His first feature film, The World According to Garp, showed that he could act and act well.  Every performance was one to behold, even the movies that did not "perform" well.  I watched them all.
      From 1980 to 83 I lived in London, Ontario.  I was following my dream of working in television and was attending Fanshawe College.  My roommates and I would listen to my Robin Williams Comedy Album over and over again.  Then it was announce that he would be performing in Toronto, an hour away.  I did not have the money to spend on comedy concerts but I knew a "once in a lifetime" opportunity when I saw one.  The night of the concert, my friends and I waited in the 2nd balcony of the theatre.  When he came on stage the place erupted.  Even from the balcony he had a commanding presence.  I remember vividly how, when a woman tried to sneak to the bathroom, Robin cat called after her.  When she return I think he may have been wearing her coat on stage.  (That part might just be wishful thinking on my part.)  It is a night I cherished.  I think I may even have the ticket stub somewhere.  I hope I do.
     Why didn't he seek help?  The news says he was in the early stages of Parkinson's.  Still, he had lots of productive time ahead of him.  Likely there is something that we don't know about what he was facing.  But he did not have to face it alone.  None of us do. 
     Sad ... so sad.

Getting Better all the Time. Better, Better, Bett-er.

     Wow, it has been almost a complete month since I last posted.  I see that as a good thing ... for me.  I have chosen to call this post "Getting Better all the Time" because I found myself humming this catchy Fab Four tune this morning.  And I thought to myself ... "yes I am!"  It has been a slow process and I am not 100%.  No one is 100% no matter what they say.  I believe that we can strive to be the best we can and as close to 100% as possible as long as we can look back on our day and say ..."that was a pretty good day."  And of course that is not going to happen every day but there will be decent stretches where the good days vastly out number the bad.
     So why am I better?  Simple ... I asked for help.  I was no longer content with being blah and down and just plain sick.  I got in people's faces and said to them and myself ... "This has got to stop."  So now I am climbing out of the hole I was in.  For that I thank my doctors and my friends.  I thank my son and especially I thank my wife.  She has been there and lived with my issues for a long time.  She has always looked for ways to make me feel better.  There were times when I wished she would leave me alone but I am so very glad that she didn't. 
     At one time in our lives we all are met with challenges that can knock us off our feet.  Another reason I chose the Beatles tune as a title for today's post is because I had just finished listening to my new favorite obsession.  It is a Podcast called The Halifax Daily News.  http://www.jamieandlisa.ca/  It is owned, produced, and hosted by Jamie Paterson and Lisa Blackburn, two local radio personalities who are very well known in and around Halifax. Jamie is a huge Beatles fan and has a whole room dedicated to his obsession.  And full discloser, I know both Jamie and Lisa.  I have worked with them both and like to think of them as friends.  This past year they both lost their positions at one of the stations in town.  I now it was devastating for their listeners and I am sure they didn't take it too well.  But, they did not hunker down and hide from their issues.  They took control and have started a five times a week Podcast along with a Website and Blog.  The link above will take you to their site.  I strongly recommend you take a look and listen.  You won't regret it, even if you are not from Halifax.  I am sure they will say that they have a ways to go too, but I can see that they have a very bright future.  And so do you. 
     If you are sitting there reading this and saying that this could never happen for you, that your problems will not go away, you are wrong.  All you have to do is reach out and ask for help.  You may have to ask more than one person but I promise you that you will find someone who will help you get yourself up on your feet again.  What do you have to lose?
    

Appreciation

     Sometimes it is very easy to forget the good things in life.  We spend all to much time focusing on the bad that happens that we dismiss what was and will be good about our lives.  Over the last month Canadians lost two beloved country men.  Knowlton Nash, CBC News Anchor and Journalist and Author/Activist Farley Mowat.  I got to meet and have conversations with both of these fine gentlemen. 
     Early in my Halifax Cable Community Channel career as a producer I was approached by two individuals who wanted to do a weekly talk show with writers.  The show was to be called East Coast Authors.  That title would only last a year when it became obvious that we had a great many opportunities to interview National and International authors.  Of course East Coast writers would be a main focus but when a writer from "away" came knocking we opened the door.
     And that is what I mean by application.  If those two people did not walk through the door that day I would not have had the opportunity to meet Mr. Nash or Mr. Mowat.  Nor would I have met William Golding (Lord of the Flies), David Suzuki, W.O. Mitchel, Margaret Atwood, Silver Donald Cameron, Sheree Fitch, Robert Munsch, Peter Gzowski, Gordon Pinsent, Timothy Findley, Ken Dryden, and Don Harron as both himself and Charlie Farquharson .  And there were countless others as well.  Co-producing that program shaped who I was and what I wanted to achieve.  It was with  a sense of pride that I told people of my involvement with the show that had become "Choyce Words". 
     So I wanted to say thank you to my partners and friends, Mary Jo Anderson and Lesley Choyce,  for some of my best loved memories and cherished friendships.  If you have been holding back anything from the people you appreciate go ahead and let them know.  Feels good.

Digital Therapy: Art as a means of Healing

     My father was a frustrated artist.  He was a creative talent.  As a young man he loved to draw, sketch and paint.  I believe art was a part of his soul.  A creative path could have definitely been in his future.  But life came along and he took on the responsibilities of family.  Raising four children and at times, holding down as many as four jobs at once, left little time for creative pursuits.  It wasn't until he was nearing retirement that he was able to take up his art again.

     My creative spark was writing or at least the thought that I could become a screenwriter.  It drove me to a near thirty year career in television for which I will always be grateful.  When that career ended suddenly I found myself lost and wondering what next?  Luckily, a few weeks after my sudden career change, my family and I, on a planned vacation, found ourselves in the home of my dear, dear friend, Laurel Bachmann.  I had known Laurel since high school and became close friends while working together at Parks Canada.  She became a valued spiritual leader and sounding board.  While visiting Laurel and her family on Salt Spring Island, B.C., she took it upon herself to continue my spiritual journey.  She did this while being treated for cancer.  She always amazed me.  One quiet afternoon she gave me a psychic reading.  She told me that I would begin to draw as a means of expressing myself.  Having watch my Dad paint I had always wanted to be able to create that way but I couldn't even draw a straight line.  I put the suggestion away and we continued on our vacation.  A few months later I thought of what Laurel had told me and I picked up my first brush.  It has become an important part of my life.  It calms and invigorates at the same time.  I thank God, Laurel and my Dad for this wonderful new spark. 

     Both my father and my friend are gone now but they are a part of me and my art.   I miss them both very much.   Whether anything comes of this or not, I know that I have something that is mine and that will not disappear from my life suddenly.  I hope that my television/film career is just taking a well needed rest.  But if not, I know I will be alright.  Thank you to all who are a part of my life and who continue to be there for me.  Thank you.