Tag Archives: Suicide

Dating Depression: First Date, JFK Jr. & Dirk Diggler

On chilly, mid-January morning back in 1996 at a hospital in Rutland, Vermont–I stopped being a 17-year-old boy–Instead, I was just depressed, just anxious, and just suicidal…

We’ll get to that in a moment, but first…

My mind drifts when I read.

Tell me if this happens to you…

You’ll be reading, humming right along, totally immersed in the world the author has created. Suddenly, with no rhyme or reason, you morph into fat Tom Hanks and your mind is gifted to Poseidon as if it were a goddamn bloodied volleyball.

Image result for wilson castaway gif

Oh, thank god. I thought I was the only one. This time, this time was different though.

Recently, my chubby, chorizo like thumbs were flipping through the book “What the Dog Saw” by Malcolm Gladwell. If you’re not familiar with Gladwell, he is on my Mt. Rushmore of storytellers. Right next to Aaron Sorkin, Jon Bon Jovi, and of course, Paul “Paulie Walnuts” Gualtieri.

In a chapter entitled: “The Art of Failure“, he mentions the death of John F. Kennedy Jr. You know, the guy our parents remember saluting his assassinated father during the televised funeral. Or, for my generation, the reason why Elaine Benes lost “The Contest”.

But, as they say, “The Devil is in the Details.” And it was the telling of how “John John” died by Gladwell which precipitated my most recent ADHD/CTE/LSD/THC influenced lapse of concentration.

July 16, 1999

John Jr., his wife Carolyn Bessette, and his sister-in-law Lauren Bessette took off from Martha’s Vineyard in JFK Jr’s Piper PA-32R-Saratoga II plane. Due to the darkness and the haze, John Kennedy Jr. became disoriented and started to make strange, almost out-of-body, out-of-mind maneuvers.

He panicked. Banking hard left, banking hard right, slowing down, speeding up. He couldn’t keep the plane level.  Suddenly, unbeknownst to him or his passengers, he went into what is referred to as a “graveyard spiral”–Where the plane goes into a corkscrew nose dive towards the ground– splashing into the Atlantic to their tragic, premature deaths.

Gladwell explains:

“Because in times of low visibility and high stress, keeping your wings level–indeed, even knowing whether you are in a graveyard spiral–turns out to be surprisingly difficult.” 

He goes on…

“On the ground, we know whether we are level even when it’s dark, because of the motion-sensing mechanisms in the inner ear. In a spiral dive, though, the effect on the planes G-Force on the inner ear means that the pilot feels perfectly level even if his plane is not.”

Why did my mind drift?

Due to darkness and haze, I’ve become disoriented, had an out-of-mind, out-of-body experience. Like many of you, like 18.1% of the U.S. population suffering from anxiety in the U.S. every year, found myself panicking, unable to stay level, spinning in a graveyard spiral without even knowing it.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

You Ever Notice That Being Depressed, Anxious and/or Suicidal Are Characters in “Boogie Nights”?

If I May…

Dirk Diggler equals Depression
Depression is Dirk Diggler, the star. Quiet, reserved, but somewhere you know there is something…bigger– hiding, just waiting to happen.

 

 

Anxiety equals Reed Rothchild
Anxiety is Reed Rothchild.  The sidekick of depression. Every once in a while though, anxiety will just do it’s own thing and freak you the fuck out! i.e. A panic attack.

 

Todd Parker equals suicide
Suicide is Todd Parker. The one who shows up at the end and decides it’s a good idea to try to fuck over the drug kingpin with a fetish for handguns and underage Asian boys who love fireworks.  Next thing you know, you’re dead and there isn’t a goddamn thing you can do about it. Why? Because it’s permanent.

 

Scotty J equals Insecurity
And Scotty J is, of course, Insecurity. But that’s a different subject for another day…

I’ve skirted around the topic of depression for a while now.

Would you want to write about your quotidian battle with depression? About having crippling anxiety attacks? Or about the time you almost accidentally killed yourself? Of course not! It sucks!  I’d rather find out what it’s like to have a prostate exam from Rosanne Barr after she ate ghost peppers with no gloves or lube!

However!

It has been recommended I write about worlds people don’t know…(Online dating, Tony Robbins, Selling radio, creeping out coffee shop redheads)

At the same exact time, it has also been suggested I write about worlds people can relate to. (Sports…Thank both of you for reading this)

Fuck it! Let’s do both!

Because, I, well, I’m all too familiar with the cumbersome nature of being: just depressed, just anxious, and just suicidal.  

At the same exact time, let’s help those who don’t have a goddamn clue. (Ya, you happy pricks can go fist yourselves.)

By the way, when I use the word just, it’s neither meant to simplify nor minimize.   However, when you’re depressed, anxious, and/or suicidal– you’re no longer a spouse, no longer a mother, no longer a father, no longer an employee, no longer an employer…

  • You’re just depressed.
  • You’re just anxious.
  • You’re just suicidal.

And for the love of Christ, you can’t escape it!

And that’s okay!

You’re going to be just okay!

Cause, here is the thing those of you who don’t understand this world (you pricks) don’t get…

And those who struggle like chubby, short 1991 Keith at a urinal only for adults, wish people would comprehend.

We just want to know that’ it’s alright. We’re going to be just fine. Because, while your in the middle of it, all you’re thinking is you’re crazy, you’re going to die, and you’re all alone.

I’m here to tell you…

  • You’re not crazy.
  • You’re not going to die
  • You’re not alone.

All you need to do is exhale, escape the island of Alcatraz which is your mind, and be sure to keep an eye out for mine.

Drifting mind finds depression

I honestly don’t know how this is going to turn out.

What I’m going to do over the next few weeks is play matchmaker.  Trying to create relationships (because I’m so fucking great at it) between a story you are familiar with, and a story you’re not.  Hopefully creating a correlation which those who know can relate, and those who don’t can discover.  (Second date is going to be about the aforementioned 1991 Keith, baseball cards, and a Second Baseman for the New York Yankees…This is going to be a colossal failure.)

 

And now, a serious moment:

If there is anyone who would care to share a story, hoping, like I, to help those who struggle, for those who battle, for those seeking something, anything to relate to and find peace: My e-mail is  kth08250@gmail.com.  I promise to provide as much anonymity as an Op-Ed piece for the NY Times.

And, at some point, I will share my story. A story of what it was like to wake up in a room with cheap fluorescents flickered, where there was so much sanitizer in the room it stuck to your tongue, where a doctor seared my retina with a light asking me how many I took, while family and friend trembled, asking another question: Why?

 

And to further accentuate my point as to why I’m doing this:

A video I’ve shared almost as much as the Fat Kid with a Light Sabre on the set PEG TV:

Oh, and there is one other reason why I’m doing this…

Dirk Diggler equals Depression
“Okay Mark, one more. But this time, give me some spit…”

When we read stories about those who lost their lives due to losing control, while being in control–it’s hard not to think about the days, weeks, months, and years where the feeling of depression was more comforting than the feeling of happiness.  Raise your hand if you’ve felt overwhelmed with joy only to instantly transfer this glee to wondering not if, but when this will go away?

Ya, you’re not alone.  I promise you-you’re not. Just like your mind as you were reading this, and like my mind while I’m…Oooo I think a girl just liked me on Bumble!!!

 

Trust me, we’re all dancing right next to you…

Image result for boogie nights dance gif

 

To be continued…

-k

And if you need immediate help please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Call 1-800-273-8255
Available 24 hours every day

 

 

 

 

 

 

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How I Got and Stayed Sober in 5 Steps: My Journey, 13 Years later…

Authors Note: Some of what you’re about to read may disturb and/or bother you. But, here is my attitude about that, first, how intriguing of a beginning huh? I got your attention, now I better not fuck it up. Back to my attitude, if things in life don’t bother those that are the subject, than I really don’t find it necessary to allow myself to be bothered by it. Unless the subject isn’t strong enough to have a choice, then, you have the strength of two and fight for them. This isn’t one of those cases.

For those who have read many of my tales, you know they usually consist of online dating fails or experiences at self-help seminars. But guess what? I’m actually a paid blogger now! No shit, big shout out to Chris at Six Marketing for taking a chance on a guy known for self-deprecating vulgar posts where I take aim at defenseless, psychotic women.

Authors Note: Holy shit do I have a story for you! I’ve written 3/4 of it, but I can’t release it quite yet. It’s called “The Rosary”. TEASE!

Nonetheless, I’m a paid blogger. And yes, I have a crush on a girl that is way too young for me. Why? Because I’m a non-committal douchebag (more on that in a moment) who loves pretty girls. Anyway, yeah, I wrote it. Let the line for possible sexual harassment suit start right…here. Kidding, I don’t have the balls to sexually harass someone. Matter of fact, I’m typically the one being harassed. What can I say, my ass of a pregnant black chick looks nice in a pair of designer jeans.

So, I’m told.
Anniversary Alert

Yesterday, I was about to hop on the Facebook to stalk all you like usual, but my computer loves to post images on my log in screen. Typically they consist of beautiful, exotic locations I could never afford to voyage off to. Even though these shit brown, near and now far sighted eyes of mine have been blessed with the marvels of God’s canvas.

Other times, I have images of spectacular animals from said regions and beyond. Well, I was graced with a picture of a snow owl that looked as if it was dying of laughter.

laughing snow owl

This isn’t the exact one, but it’s equally as magnificent.

Anyway, I instantly googled images of laughing white owls. They are actually snow owls, but I guess I have some deep seeded racism within me. And to think, the race of my sexual conquests are as diverse as the Captain Planet Planeteers!

Never had a ginger though…I don’t think…Maybe…I had spots on my penis once afterward, so I may have…

Anyway, while googling said images of said owls, I came across one that looked drunk

drunk keith owl

And another that looked stoned

hippie keith owl

And then I recalled something… It’s been 13 years since I stopped getting piss the bed drunk and almost having a heart attack on cocaine.

And then I thought to myself, “self, why don’t we tell people how we got there?” God forbid I write about something other than my self absorbed ramblings about the opposite sex and Tony Robbins.

I mean, I’ve almost overdosed twice. Once, was half-hearted intentional when I was 17. I say half hearted because right in the middle of it all, I grabbed a handful of my late, the man I aspire to be, grandfathers xanax. And when I say half-hearted, I mean this: In my drunken, drugged haze, I went downstairs to grab more xanax, I did. Then, well then, I put some back. You tell me if I wanted to die that night?

As opposed to the completely unintentional time I was “coked outta my skull” on my lifelong friends couch, her mothers couch to be precise, and my heart was beating so hard it caused my sternum to visibly bounce. And it just…wouldn’t…stop…I prepared myself mentally to die that night… Not a good time, not at all.

Funny how as I write this, and anyone suffering from any form of addiction will empathize, I realize:

While under the influence, your mind wants more than your heart can handle.

Yet while sober, your heart wants more than your mind can handle.

Folks, I know myself. I know myself quite well. Whether it’s telling you about why I’m god fucking awful at dating and/or relationships. Whether it’s telling you about my journey externally and more so internally on a voyage into and through “Emotional College”.

And, whether it was being treated at facility at the age of 17 for my aforementioned suicide attempt, whether it was for the weeks that followed surrounded by court mandated alcoholics and drug addicts who were twice if not three times my age, or whether it was from all the projectiles being flung at me from all angles of life…Many of which, self-induced…

It’s time to share a story about how I got to 13 years without a sip or a snort.
Step 1: Acceptance

Ya, there was none of that.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew good and goddamn well that I was sucking at life. But, when you’re in the deep end of the Olympic sized pool of addiction, all that matters is when you’re getting more and how…

Truth be told, when I officially went sober a week and a half into February of 2005, it wasn’t the first time. Hell, it wasn’t the first time in six months. And I’m clueless as to why I went sober six months earlier.

But, I could tell you about the night I relapsed. I could tell you what caused it. And I could tell you about the hell that followed including getting thrown out of college and having one of my best friends swallow a self-inflicted bullet.

Instead, I will tell you the last bit of “cocaine” I did was probably powdered sugar. No, it was powdered sugar. And thank god, because I had just polished off an “eight ball” of blow hours earlier. No, not by myself, but when I was sharing, I sure as shit was inhaling right next to them. By the way, those that don’t know why it’s called an eight ball, it’s mathematics. An eight ball is 3.5 grams of coke. An 1/8th of an ounce. Your street cred just increased by one point, you’re welcome.

And the last bit of alcohol I tasted was a warm Miller Lite.

Two days later, I got pulled over.

Driving to work, a block drive from where I was living, I got nabbed because I didn’t have my seat belt on and I didn’t have my 93′ Cadillac El Dorado (I’m such an asshole) inspected.

I mean who could afford to get something like a car inspected when I was paying 80 fucking dollars for a goddamn gram of confectionery sugar?

Nonetheless, I got pulled over and ticketed. I was informed by said officer if my car were to be inspected within the next week, I would have my ticket torn up.

Told the cat at work I needed to take care of some personal shit and took my car to the local garage, Blows Service Station. Still to this day, greatest slogan ever:

“There’s no job like a Blow job!”

No shit, their last name was Blow. People so wanted to be offended. Especially in city of 12,000 that had 3 Catholic Churches. Know why they couldn’t?

Freedom!

I’ve been going there for years, they even gave me a t-shirt. God I loved that shirt.

But on this day, they weren’t going to give me an inspection sticker unless I had $1500 for new brake lines and some other shit that sounded like high pitch ringing once I heard $1500.

Instead, well, they may have saved my life.
Step 2: Make a decision and get leverage against yourself

So, of course, I couldn’t afford the repairs, I mean $1500 is a fuckload of powdered sugar.

What was I to do?

God knows it wasn’t simply go to one of the 975 other places in Vermont that would have inspected my wannabe mafioso, chubby, hairy ass. I mean, I wasn’t too fat back then. After I quit drinking, different story. After I quit drinking, I looked like a glazed ham that got dropped on a barber shop floor.

hairy guy selfie

I wasn’t THAT bad. But I’m a little furry. And when I say a little furry, I don’t mean I’m little and dress like an animal while attending conventions for said fettish.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, I didn’t go to the garage in Proctor with a guy named Ernie who would throw an inspection sticker on my window for a twenty. Instead, I did the rational thing.

Ya, I couldn’t afford a new one. And no, it wasn’t because of my negotiating sugar price skills. It was because my credit was so good I received no less than 5 calls a day from credit card companies wishing to speak to me.

Needless to say, I owed a few bucks.

Needless to say, I was failing at life.

Needless to say, I needed something that would snap me out of it.

And it came from the most obvious of places:

A 1999 Ford Explorer with a dent in the door.

Somehow, I was able to get approved, but the cost? $100 more a month than I was already paying…or more so, not paying for my Caddy.

How was I going to do it?

“Fine, I’ll have to quit drinking and doing drugs”.

Funny, in life, at least back then, I would select one person every year, consciously or subconciously to be my arch nemesis. And back on this day, it just so happened to be the gal selling me this car.

“Like you can do that.” She quipped in condescending yet accurately cunty way.

Little did she know that’s what I respond to.

Doubt me, please.

Let me know you feel that way, please.

Because, that’s when I say:

“Fuck you, watch!”

I should really thank her for that…

Ya, Im good.

Step 3: Commitment

Oh the first few days were hell. You have to cut out at least 25 people from your life, and even alienate yourself from the only friends you thought you knew. And somehow ask for forgiveness from the ones that watched you die from the sidelines.

Try not to get angry with those that say, “I was going to tell you that you need to quit”.

Try not to respond with, “Oh really? I would of thanked you if you did”.

Which is nothing more than a bold faced bullshit of a lie. Like I would of listened to anyone. Cindy Crawford could have been naked with a sash saying “Property of Keith Hannigan” telling me I was dying from my addiction. And I would have told her to go fuck herself and she turned Richard Gere gay.

For you see, I was simply looking for someone, anyone to be pissed off with.

When the cocksucker in the mirror is the one I truly hated.

You go and tell your mother and kid brother that you’re an alcoholic and an addict. She doesn’t know what to do, so she offers you to cook for you. Bless her heart. All the while kid brother looks at you and you see him judging you as weak and a coward. Bless his heart, he’s just sick of being scared about losing his only brother.

You tell your dad and he freezes. Bless his heart, only months earlier he was suffering from a marriage he couldn’t escape from.

Bless your friends that didn’t know how to respond because at the age of 26, who could have such a drug and drinking problem? I mean, that’s for guys in their 40’s and 50’s…right?

Bless all them for only years earlier, they were all standing above you in a hospital room asking:

“Why?”

You want to be angry, so angry. What the fuck! Why can’t I drink? Why can’t I ever again have a goddamn sip ever again? Why God, why did you do this to me?!? What did I do, huh? What the fuck did I ever do to you to give me this goddamn disease? Fuck you God, FUCK YOU!

Then, well, God gave me this and…I cried… a lot…

God also gave me a friend, her name was Nina. She too was battling this godforsaken disease. A disease I’ve had since birth. A disease I still have. A disease that is mine for perpetuity.

And Nina, well, she held my hand for the first month, because the first month, I wasn’t just struggling mentally. I wasn’t just struggling spiritually…I began to suffer physically…
Step 4: Supplementing and Rewarding

Now, there is a fat kid within me. People that see me today don’t believe it, but…well…

Fat Keith

Ya, I’m the one with the tits on the right.

Sugar… I had an unquenchable hunger for all I could get my hands on. And now that I was sober, I stopped paying $80 a gram for it. But Ben and Jerry’s is pretty goddamn close!

Not to mention my marijuana consumption had grown exponentially trying to alleviate the pain of withdrawal. Withdrawal feeling like you have the goddamn Bird-Flu for a month.

Authors Note: For those that say marijuana is a “gate way drug”. Folks, when I drank, I snorted cocaine, pills, and anything I could break into a powder. I smoked crack, cocaine, pills and anything that could be smoked. And I tried to sleep with any woman that gave me a second look. Good thing there is a very true tale of what cocaine does to the male libido at 4am. Very true. Meanwhile, pot, ya, it made me want to write, it made me want to eat Ben and Jerry’s and it made me want to kick my roommates ass in Madden. You tell me which one is the gateway drug!

You try to not smoke a carton of cigarettes a week because, well, your caffeine intake has also doubled if not quadrupled. And nothing pairs as well as a Marlboro Medium and a Vanilla Caramel Coffeemate.

Authors Note: This week is also my 10 year Anniversary for quitting butts. Now that, that sucked! Again though, the same principles here applied. And yes, including my marijuana consumption.

Then, then you realize something…you have more money. Holy shit, you have a lot more money. Don’t get me wrong, your luxurious tastes in ice cream (something about high priced sugar and me), coffee, cigarettes, and marijuana deplete the account. But not nightly. Not like before. So, what do you do with all this excessive income?

Save? Boring.

Pay off debt? Only as much as necessary to stop the cell phone from ringing.

And did it ever stop ringing. Especially when you think you’ve lost all of your friends. But you didn’t. Just the posers drifted away and the real ones came and took rightful place.

Not many, just the perfect amount.

You set up a reward system. Once a week, every week that goes by without a sip or a snort, you buy a dvd or a cd. The things that actually provided you joy, real, true joy. Movies and music.

But you keep thinking of something…

You miss your friend, Rocco. He was my friend who shot himself. He would have liked this healing version of me.

Instead, well, you only remember not answering his call because you were too hungover. The call he made the day before he, well, you know where this is going.
Step 5: Life without being numb.

There were days, weeks, months, and years that comprised the past 13 years where a drink would have been nice. Anything would have been nicer than having to sit and absorb, deal, think, and feel things like a painful divorce.

Instead, well, you grow.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still the 5’6 guy that has a slight Napoleon complex and I guess is racist too. Who knew? Goddamn snow owls.

You develop new addictions. You know this about yourself. You know you have this addictive personality which goes guns blazing into everything that you do. So, you focus on your health. You focus on your fitness. You focus on your mental strength. You focus on getting smarter. You go back to school and knock it out of the fucking park while finding the one thing that you’re blessed enough to not only love to do, but actually have some talent at. And you focus on becoming an emotional titan with the ability to tell your tale in hopes of someone reading this and realizing they are not alone.

But first, you needed to ask for forgiveness and more importantly, you need to forgive.

Yom Kippur is the day where those of a Jewish faith ask for the forgiveness of God. The day before is Erev Yom Kippur, the day you ask for the forgiveness of your fellow man.

In the years that followed, you ask for the forgiveness from the ones you loved, yet hurt.

In the years that followed, you forgave and thanked the ones you hated, yet loved.

And then, one day, well, one day you look in the mirror and ask for his forgiveness.

One day you look into the mirror and you forgive him for all that he put you through…

And one day you look into the mirror and you thank him.

Because without him, you wouldn’t be who you are today.

-k

My Date (not online) With Destiny (not a stripper)!

Due to severe sleep deprivation, (severe is a little dramatic, but you’re reading a story about a guy’s self-help experience, so you know…) due to arctic like conditions that caused a contingency from Russia, fucking Russia, to dress head to toe in winter clothing, due to the first real nutrition I’ve consumed is in the form of a Jamba Juice smoothie at the Baltimore airport, due to feeling like I’m toeing the high wire hovering above full blown sickness from the aforementioned lack of sleep, frigid conditions, and diet…

This may be a little “scattered”.

Oh and I forgot to mention something; due to the fact I just spent six days and six nights at “Emotional Boot camp” where my mind, body, and spirit were broken down in ways I didn’t know existed. I again may be a little all over the place.

For the past five days I was journaling experiences with great ambiguity out of respect to those I came across…Out of respect to those I came across…We’ll get back to “those” momentarily, but first a little exposition.

Last November I attended my first and only other Tony Robbins Live Event/Seminar. It is the highly affordable and highly motivating Unleash the Power Within. If you’d like to read about my experiences there, you can do so by searching previous blog posts.  You know, the ones before I wrote about my online dating exploits.

Spac Profile Pic

When it was all said and done, the primary theme, for me, was we’re not alone. You’re not the only one that thinks that  you’re going crazy because you can’t stop thinking about this. You’re not the only one that feels so alone while experiencing that. And more than anything, you’re not the only one that wonders if this is all your life is ever going to be.

And the other thing about Unleash The Power Within, or UPW as us Robbins fans refer to it as, it’s an adrenaline shot to the spine that lasts a solid couple months. I mean for fucks sake, I was asked if I wanted to interview for a promotion the day after I got back to a job I was intensely contemplating whether or not I should submit my resignation.

Truthfully, when I got back from UPW, you could of dared me to dry hump a radio tower 150 feet in the air while wearing a leopard print thong and I would of said:

“YES!” Made my “move” and started the climb like a 5’6, not quite as hairy, King Kong.  Little Tony Robbins inside humor there.

So, with that, lets get to West Palm Beach.

Date With Destiny was introduced to not only the masses, but myself via the vehicle of Netflix. In the opening scene, we are introduced to the presence that is Tony Robbins.  The same guy that flashed a huge tooth smile with his massive cranium and his hair super glued in it’s part, hour after hour, after hour, after hour every morning and every night in the form of an informercial.  An informercial that used to drive me nuts when it came on at 4am because I was just about to “get off” while watching the latest Girls Gone Wild spot.

Why 4am?

Yet, when the “This is a Presentation of Guthy Renker” credit appeared, followed by this guy telling me how I could not only get wealthy, but live an amazing life like 3 time Pro Football Hall of Famer Fran Tarkenton; I had no idea how much he cared.

Tony-Robbins

I had no fucking clue that this guy cared, genuinely cared that much for his fellow man and woman. No clue. Not one goddamn clue. But there he was, telling this European with Red Shoes (Not Red Shoe Diaries, another thing I used to watch at 4am while…you know) how so many of us think our life is worthless because we had a bad day, a bad week, a bad month, a bad year. Yet, don’t realize how much we could accomplish in a decade.

That was the moment he got me.

This was followed by me Googling how much it would cost to go to said Date with Destiny.  Then I was backhanded harder than tennis ball hit by Andre Agassi with the thought:

“Holy fuck this is expensive!”

Then, well, then I went to the more affordable UPW.

And after UPW was done, after the willingness to fuck a radio tower was over, after I got the job promotion, I instantly signed up for the Super Bowl of self-help, my Date with Destiny.

And I almost fucked it all up.

Why? Because I’m an easily influenced douchebag when the one doing the influencing possesses an exquisite ass.

How? By calling my rep at the Tony Robbins Institute and requesting a refund.

She tried to talk me out of it, but I fought back.

“It’s too much money.”

“I want to use the money to go on a vacation with this girl I just stared to date.”

“Because I’m in love.”

Well, when you sign up for events of this nominal value and high in demand, they make you sign a pretty ironclad contract.

But, when I freak out, I freak the fuck out!

Clearly I didn’t need to go to something to strengthen my emotional state.

So, my rep looked into it…

Good thing it took a bit, because, well, the girl, the girl I was so in love with, broke up with me a week later.  Because she:

“Wasn’t feeling it…”

Peace bitch and your amazing ass.

I instantly called my rep and cancelled my request for refund.

Thank, God!

Little did I know WHY she broke things off with me.

However, I was just secured my seat to not only find out exactly why she did, but why I have always, as I put it, “sucked at relationships”.

Funny thing though, when I arrived in West Palm, I wasn’t ready for this shit.

Not even close.

For you see, when I landed in San Jose for UPW, I was taken to the hotel, dropped my bags off and then went straight to the event. All I was worried about was walking on hot fucking coals.

So you can say there was ZERO down time. There was zero time for me to think about what I was about to do. Now, in West Palm, I had a full day.

And what was I thinking?

I didn’t want to be there.

I was scared, legitimately scared. I barely slept that night. Which kinda sucked because  little did I know it would be the last “good night of sleep”  that I was going to for the next 6 nights.

Definition of good night of sleep during a Tony Robbins Event: More than 5 hours.

Definition of good night sleep during, well, life: At least 7 hours.

But, this was a perfect metaphor for changing our definitions in life. And that’s one, not the primary, but one major theme I walked away with:

Change your definitions.

What was the primary theme?

Well, when we registered we received a color and a number on our name tag. The opening night, we sat with our color.  The girl next to me, a beautiful young redhead was P-4. P stood for Purple.

And of course my mind raced as to why I was given the color purple.

What, did they think I was gay?

Feminine?

A pussy?

At least it wasn’t Pink…

Mr. Pink

For those that don’t know, we had to fill out a bunch of paper work prior to the event.  This will be relevant momentarily.

I was P-1. (In my mind: Pussy #1)  The seat next to her, the redhead,  well, after we switched, was a lady from Mexicali, Mexico that was forced to go by her husband of two years in an effort to save their marriage. And yeah, her English, not so much. Which is kind of critical when you’re told to share with the stranger sitting next to you. So her and I swapped partners, this is how the redhead landed next to me, because there was a beautiful young woman that sat two seats down from that not only spoke Spanish, she too was a P-1.

Little did I know who she was.

Little did she know who I was.

Little did either of us know what God had planned for us.

Author’s Note: You’ve heard me refer to God multiple times, and I will continue to do so.  Now, my faith is my faith, and I don’t care what yours is. I will simply say this, when we have something such as a God to believe in, then we can believe in ourselves, now can’t we? I’m a Catholic out of respect to those that I loved that are no longer here.  However, I could eviscerate the Catholic Church. No, not because there are priests from the same gene pool as Jerry Sandusky. But because, well, those reasons belong to me, just like my faith…See what I did there? 

Anyway, yeah, that night, that night we got separated into teams of 50 to 60 people. And that was the moment a man, an older man put his arm around me and told me that I was in the right place.

“Keith, do you know who Jeff Arch is?”

“No creepy old man with your arm around me at 2am.”

“Well, he wrote Sleepless in Seattle after his Date with Destiny.  You’re in the right place.”

He was my trainer Randy. And I adored that moment and I adore that man. And he obviously read the aforementioned material.

He informed us that we were “Team Phoenix” and wanted us to find a “buddy” to partner up with. I looked around and well, yeah, I’m a dude. Of course I wanted an attractive female partner.  It’s just my feminine energy that has long been radiating through me.  For those that don’t know me: My mom is a magnificent woman that taught me two things: 1) Work ethic and 2) How to shop.

And my desperation was permeating through my pores.  Until a smile, a beautiful smile looked at me. It was the aforementioned woman that sat two seats down from me.
This young woman was 30, from Ecuador, spoke perfect English, and was about to become one of the most important people I’ve ever met in my life.

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The days and nights that followed were filled with much laughter, many tears, and the occasional being spat on by Tony as he “intervened” with a woman that caused us to, well, lets just say be our “Away Value of Frustration.”

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We witnessed a couple find love, we witnessed suicidal people find the miracle in tomorrow, and we witnessed the person in the mirror change from a person who’s reflection we despised to a person we wanted to kiss.

We even witnessed the man, the warrior in us, kill the coward that didn’t want to come there.

 

 

For all of this and so much more, I thank you Tony Robbins for wanting to serve people like me.

Thank you for having an event that introduced me to stories that inspired me like a young black man that left a life of crime by selling everything he had to attend this event in efforts to change his life.

Thank you for having this “emotional boot camp” just to break me down so you could build me back up into a man I forgot I was. And the man I aspired to be.

And thank you for having an event that introduced me to a woman that was the perfect partner for 6 days and 6 nights that helped me discover the solutions to the problems that only existed in my head. All the while helping her discover that she IS strong enough for the life she chooses to live. She deserves to live!

While UPW motivated and showed us we’re not alone.  DWD (Not Down With Disease for you Phish fans) introduced me to the pure love humanity has to offer. It offered connections to the inspired and it offered connections to the inspiring. It is the Grad school for the dreamers that are willing to work for the dreams they covet.

Date with Destiny brought me to the place I’ve been dying to see:

A little place called Hope.

And that my friends, was the primary theme.

Mark Twain once said, “I’ve seen a lot of problems and only a fraction of them actually happened.”

Clearly he went to Date with Destiny.

And go fuck yourself if you come at me with, “You know Keith, Mark Twain lived in…”

Ya douche, I know….Way to kill the fucking moment.

-k

 

 

Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass: My Four Days with Tony. Tomorrow.

“I am not a product of my circumstances,  I am a product of my decisions”

-Stephen Covey

I hopefully will never know the feeling of being incarcerated for any extended length of time and then being “freed” into the masses.  Even though, there has been the occasion where I thought:

“You know, other than avoiding rape and get shanked; You get fed, workout, read, sleep.  No bills to stress over, no relationships to deal with. Well, unless of course, you’re somebodies bitch.  And let’s just call it like it is; I’m 5’6, 155lbs, and white.  I don’t know if they like lean little guys, but if so,  I’m a high draft pick.”

Point being, when you leave this world of nothing but positive, high octane, on Crack energy that you’ve come to absolutely adore and call home for the past four days and nights;  You’re not only coming back into the masses that is the hypersensitive year 2016 but, the masses that is still are wondering what the fuck?

trump

But you’re doing it with that chest bowed out like you have the tits of Sofia Vergara.

sofia-vergara-breast-implants

The President-Elect would say they are great because they’re the best.

Have you seen House of Cards?  There was this scene where Frank and his wife and their…If you’ve seen the show, you know where I’m going.  It was instantly followed by a hot and sexy as hell scene on the opposite end of the spectrum. Seeing the images of these two about felt like that.

 

Speaking of complete opposites, that is what it’s like to leave jail as compared to Tony Robbins, nonetheless, your apprehensions are possibly very similar.

How do you behave?

Should I talk all about it? Because God knows it’s all I want to do.

Do I book my next one?  I don’t want this feeling to go away and if I have another to look forward to, it will keep me positive knowing that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.

Do I go full force after what I want?  Break out of my restrictions? Break out of my comfort zone and truly just say “fuck it”, let’s do this?

Fascinated by the mind of the entrepreneur.  The person that believes they are their own boss. Also making them ultimately responsible for whether they succeed or fail.  No one else.

That’s courage.

Many only give credit, and justifiably so, to those that put their lives on the line, literally, whether in the Military or Emergency Services.  However, the entrepreneur takes an economic gamble that could leave them on food stamps. But, it also creates the opportunity to provide them, and their family,  with fortunes beyond their beliefs.     Sounds like the lottery, ya?  You can’t win if you don’t play, right?  But here is the one thing that they can do that someone that plays the lottery can’t do:

Work harder, work smarter.  When you leave, are you motivated? Yes.  Are you inspired? Yes.  But, going to one of these things is like being exceptional at practice.  You could be a stud Mon-Fri.  But when it’s game day, if you shrink in the moment, well, what good are you.  Same to be said here.  I could have made peace with aspects of my past, created a plan for my future, and learned how to take action in my present to make it all a possibility. But if I went back to my old habits as soon as landed in NY?  I essentially went to a four-day music festival.

When you leave, you’re leaving an atmosphere that is totally devoted for those attending to not only be entertained but, changed!  Think about that.  Those in attendance, some paying thousands to do so.  Some flying 18 hours like a man I met from Amsterdam.  Some flying cross country and living off protein bars and salt and vinegar almonds.  What they all wanted to do was have the knowledge, the tools, and the courage to make a drastic change in their life.  All of us think that something is missing, that we are kind of looking for our purpose, our mission in life. But it’s this:

Is Curly waiting for you in the form of Tony Robbins to tell you just that?  In a way.  Since I don’t feel like bringing a herd of cattle to their slaughter to try to discover my true purpose; This has to do.  Essentially, what you find out is that you just have to let go.

Let go of a past that does not pre-determine your future.  Just because it’s your past doesn’t mean it’s your destiny.  Let go of the future that may or may not happen.  It’s life, ONE THING can happen in a heartbeat and it all will change forever.  It could be for the good, the great, or the catastrophic, but it doesn’t mean you have you live life that way.  It means you GET to live life that way.

The world is filled with  stories of cancer patients that wish they knew this was going to happen to them decades ago. Why?  The time they truly lived life, was when they found out they were going to die.

Remember that list of 7 areas of life? Physical Body, Finances, Career/work, Contribution, etc.  (I write etc. because I can’t remember the last two and am too lazy and too focused to get up and look)  When you leave UPW, you MUST figure out a way to go after the one you want the most.  For me, and even if you’re my colleague or client, you won’t be shocked when you read this, it’s my career.

So, did I take action when I got back? Essentially,  does Tony Robbins work?

In chronological order. 1) Set up an appointment to get my student film, oh look, here it is again!

 

Anyway, like I was saying, I had to get it prepared to be submitted to film festivals.  A process that took a lot more time and effort one would think, but a major step.

Second, I needed a coach.  We saw earlier how remarkably expensive the Robbins Research life coaches were.  Truthfully, I didn’t think I needed one.  What I wanted was someone in the profession of screenwriting.  My mother came through clutch on this.  She bought me the Screenwriters Bible by Dave Trottier for my most recent birthday. A moment that brought me to tears.  How this simple gesture showed that my mother believed in her son and his dream.  So, who did I contact to be my writing coach? Dave Trottier.  Had our session and it was spectacular.  Keep your eyes peeled for when I get nominated for an Oscar.

My mother obviously had to be thanked for that, right?

WRONG

She needed to be thanked for much more than that.  She needed to be thanked for all the sacrifices, all the chances she took, and everything she did, to the best of her knowledge, abilities. I put that woman through hell and back and though she hated me at moments, and I hated her, she never stopped loving me with every ounce of being. And I love that woman more than any woman on Earth.

And I also  had to thank my dad.

This phone call was slightly tougher.  It required the moment of:

Do your move: “YES!”

Say yes: “YES!

Say yes: “YES!!!”

And then I called.  I honestly don’t know if I did that before, but when we were done, I definitely wiped my feet and celebrated!

That call belongs to us.

The last thing I did, I wrote a six-part blog about the most personal thing I’ve ever been through.  I would have never done this prior to the event, and I thank you with all of my overjoyed heart for reading this!

I made the decision that I MUST do it, and then gained LEVERAGE by posting that I was going to write six of these.  It got a little tiresome, a little too deep, but at the time, it was all about the will to allow myself to be scrutinized.  Many don’t know that is probably the writers number one fear.  That people won’t like it.  You know what I think of that:

FUCK YOU!

Let’s see you fly cross country, get no sleep, walk on coals, have your tongue, stomach, and ass decimated by protein bars and almonds  Hug and massage Lou, cry like your a kid and someone just broke your Optimus Prime, dance to Hits Volume 112, talk to complete strangers about why dad didn’t love you enough, listen to people tell you why their dad didn’t love them enough, clap until your hands were bruised, worry about falling down a flight of concrete steps in front of thousands, lose your voice four days in a row that made you sound like a transvestite doing an impersonation of Demi Moore,  and then deal with Uber!  Then when you get back, you share all of this while annoying God knows how many on social media with your “look at me, look at me” posts.

And you know what?

If you walked through my door right now with a ticket to Unleash the Power Within North Korea, a plane ticket sitting bitch the entire way, a bag full of salt and vinegar almonds and said we have to leave right now  with only the clothes on your back.  I’d say:

I’ll drive!

 

Thank you all!

PS: I’ve also signed up with Date with Destiny in Florida, December 2017, and keep your eyes peeled for Unleash the Power Within, NEW YORK!  July 2017.

Dedicated to the Memories of

Quido and Emma Notte.

Joshua “Rocco” Thompson.

 

For anyone looking for information about the event or anything to do with Tony Robbins, please call:  Angel McDonnell at 858-535-6287. Or email her at angel.mcdonnell@tonyrobbins.com

Please be sure to  tell her that I sent you.

Thank you and be sure to subscribe to find out when my next blog is posted

 

Make Your Move and Shake Your Ass, My Four Days with Tony: Day 3, SET A NEW STANDARD!

Authors Note:  Even though I have shared many personal moments throughout these blogs, this post in particular, will have some moments of ambiguity.  There are moments from this day that belong to me and only me.  If you were there, you will completely understand.  If you weren’t, hopefully someday you will and it will be because of what you’re about to readThank you and enjoy. 

“I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.”

-Mark Twain

Think back to days that forever changed your life.  When you awoke, did you know it would be that day?  Despite being forewarned multiple times the day before by Angel, my life was about to change and how did it kick off?

Goddamn protein bars and almonds!

Saturday morning I awoke after getting a whole 5 hours of sleep.  Other than Angel also informing me about this being THE day of transformation, it was also the longest day, slated to go from 8:30am until 1am.  Do the math.  Still, I must get my workout in.  While in the hotel gym, I noticed a couple other guys that were also wearing their UPW bracelets. (When you registered, you were given a bracelet and lanyard that showed your seating area by color) Our conversation was short, but I made sure to mention how I was informed this was going to be a long one.  So fuel up!

I’m geared up and ready to go, you know, that extra hour of sleep really kicked things up a notch!  Truthfully, I was stoked about Tony being back today.  Like I mentioned earlier, Joseph is spectacular!  But I’m sure even he would admit, the energy when Tony is there, it’s like an amp that goes to 11.

 

However, if I was jazzed for the fact Tony was going to be there, surely some of the other 10,500 felt the same way.  So, I had to get my little ass moving!

Breakfast at the Cafe in the hotel right? WRONG.  Doesn’t open until 7.  And I needed to be on the road.  Whole Foods right? WRONG, they don’t open until 8!  SON OF A BITCH!

Well, goddamn it.

Fast Forward to today.  It’s been over a week and I can’t even look at a bag of salt and vinegar almonds.  Anyway, off to:

DAY THREE

At this point, my comfort level with interacting with complete and total strangers is greater than talking to my family.  How so?  You start to think about how the outside world, your friends, your family, your co-workers, your clients, and how they going to judge you when you get back.

“How was your thing?”

“Did you drink the Kool-Aid?”

“Did you burn your feet?”

“You ‘re not going to be all positive and shit now, right?”

“You DO know Tony Robbins is a fraud?”

My mind was already worrying about something that may or may not happen?  Please refer back to the quote at the beginning of this post.  For some reason though, I had this feeling I was going to be treated like I just became a Scientologist!

Then my phone rang, it was my father.

My father and I have always had a very, tumultuous relationship.  I was predominantly raised by my maternal grandparents and was always a “momma’s boy”. My mom’s family has always been the ones I’ve loved the most and felt like I disappointed the greatest.  When I lost my grandparents within a year of each other, that is when my life sputtered out of control.  Throw in one of my best friends suicide, and well, you can see why I believed (past tense) back in my 20’s that I was justified in having a drug and alcohol dependency.

Back to my father, we actually enjoyed our conversation.  It was lighthearted and even though I sounded like a transvestite phone sex operator, he was so intrigued by what I was doing.  That was the moment I knew the day was going to be different.

I even told him I loved him.

When you get inside, they still don’t let you go to your section of choosing until a certain time. Meanwhile, people line up to ensure they get the seat they want.  While standing there, a very cute, young, Asian woman started chatting with me.  After a bit, we shared a little, not much, a little information about ourselves to each other.  For example:

Me: “I’m 38, you?”

Her: “I’m in my 30’s”

Oh was this little shit going to sit next to me. If not for the simple reason of seeing how much I could get out of her.  She felt like a challenge. S0, I asked if she would sit next to me and she obliged.  Off we went to spend the next, potentially 15 hours with each other.

Another aspect I’ve failed to mention up until now is the dancers.  Yes, the Fire Dancers.  At least that’s what I think they were called.  Their job is to come out and get you pumped up.  Remember the music that I described how God awful some of it was?  It’s Jock Jams.  Plain and simple, it’s Jock Jams and you fucking love it.  You’re doing the claps they are doing, the waves they are doing, the dance moves, and everything. 1996-2015 Keith wouldn’t speak to this guy.  Now I’m Superfly dancing to Britney and Pitbull.  I’m even shaking my ass like I’m the Hotstepper!

 

The young lady that I just met started to open up.  Many of you reading this don’t know me, I’m quite loquacious. Simply put, I talk A LOT and don’t shut the fuck up.  But now I’m listening.  I’m asking her more and more about her life and finding out she was a first generation Chinese American in her family. The more and more I found out, the more and more I realized how amazing some people are and how spectacular their journeys to this destination was.  For you see, it wasn’t just about seeing Tony Robbins, it was seeing how the people you were surrounded by had more in common with you emotionally than you thought.  We all get so consumed and/or overwhelmed by our emotions on a day to day basis thinking that no one understands us.  Just to find out, we’re not alone. We’re far from alone.

Joseph came out first. Initially, it was kind of a letdown, especially when you thought it was going to be Tony all day and night.  Whatever. A let down to this crowd would be the apex compared to A LOT of crowds that I’ve witnessed.   Nonetheless, the education began.  We learned that if you are going to have an Extraordinary Life, you must see what the 7 areas were and how you value each.  This is good for you that weren’t there, because take a moment to look and think about these:

In no particular order: 1)Physical Body. 2)Emotions and Meaning 3)Relationships 4)Time 5)Work/Career/Mission 6) Finances and 7) Celebrate/contribution, Spiritual Sense.

I know where I’m strong but where I want to be stronger.  Which means I fully understand my weaknesses.  The reason you do this, look at where you’re strong and  juxtapose what you do on a daily basis to make them so. Compare that to what you’re weak at. Be honest with yourself, it’s only you, to you, about you, you’re talking to.  I had to turn to my newfound, first generation, fine, female friend.

I joked earlier about how I would share lessons I learned and all you had to do was read this blog to discover them.  I had to turn to the person to my right, left, behind and in front,  a complete stranger, and tell them some things only my fucking therapist knows.  When you have a therapist, you are essentially their mafia boss and you’re paying them off to keep their lips zipped! But now, I’m turning to my right or left and saying my biggest fear, the one thing that frightens me to the point of nightmares and constant self-depreciation, is this and this is why.  You had to get over that shit quick.  Like Day 1, Hour 1.  However, the rabbit hole was going deeper.  Because…

HEEEEEERE’S TONY!!!

EXPLOSION!  LIKE 10,500 PEOPLE ALL HAVING THE BIGGEST ORGASM OF THEIR LIFE AT ONCE!

Don’t ask me why, it just was, and it was fucking awesome!  I could show you a crystal clear video with flawless audio and it would still not even touch what it felt like in that place, at that moment in time.  And by the way, I believe I’ve gained some sort of credibility earlier about being at monumental events.

wwf_wrestlemania_11_eventposter

I have to add this in first.  Next to the adorable young woman to my left, (I had an aisle seat, remember this) there was a really big, like, looked like NYC mechanic named whose name could have been Lou and his Italian nephew who looked like a Michael.  Remember, “Hug 9 people”?  Well, there was something else you had to do. “Get in groups of 4 and massage the person in the middle”.  That didn’t happen initially.  “Lou” kept conveniently disappearing at those moments.  And at this point, I was okay with it. We will get back to this shortly. Oh and if you don’t like being touched. These events are NOT for you.  Or they could be a way for you to get over that shit!

He opened up with a lot of science about human chemistry and physiology. A theme throughout the weekend.   Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t rocket science, but it was very educating.  I’ve been reading his book, listening to his audio cd’s, and watched the documentary; I understood his language.  A good sum of it was redundant to me.

Then the children were taken out of the room.

For those that have never seen the documentary or much of anything about Tony Robbins, he curses like a drunk trucker at Mardi Gras.  I obviously was very fucking offended. He does acknowledge the children, though.  Saying they are going to hear things, but it is meant to shock.   Freud did it, so, you know.

“Don’t worry the kids are going into another room, we’ve got some great stuff for them to do.  We don’t want them seeing this because this may be very traumatic to them.”

What…the…fuck?  Was I scared when I heard this? You bet you’re fucking sweet ass I was.  And you would be too!  Keep in mind I already walked on fire and may be giving Lou a massage.  So, you know, everything is kinda on the table in this place.

But that is why I walked on fire.

THE DICKENS PROCESS

We all know about Scrooge right?  Whether you’ve read the immortal classic “A Christmas Carol” or saw Bill Murray in “Scrooged”, you know the concept, right?  Past, Present, Future equals changed life. It was at the moment Scrooge sees his future, after examining his childhood and current state, that he ultimately realizes that  his life has to change.   Well, the next hour was spent writing down our 3 most limiting beliefs. The ones that hold us back, scare us.  And guys and gals, I’m not talking about being scared of fucking heights.  These are beliefs.

“I believe if I do this, that will happen”

And some of those are pretty damn debilitating, now aren’t they?  And I’m turning to my left to tell them to someone I met 3 hours ago.

After we wrote three and why, we wrote their complete antithesis.  Our most 3 empowering beliefs and why.

“If only I could do this, this would happen.”

Now that we got those on paper.  We were told that what we are about to do is associate so much pain to those three limiting beliefs, that we will never allow ourselves to feel the same way about them again.

Allow me to say this with the highest regard for our Military and those that Serve.  I am NOT comparing what we did with what they go through.  But the premise can be similar.
We were broken down and then built back up.  Reprogrammed.  And Tony Robbins is my leader.  I’m fucking with you. Just pay attention:

The room went dark and we were told to close our eyes.

“People are going to go through some very strong, intense emotions, don’t comfort them.  Let them suffer.”

Imagine the life that you have where you will never change, a life where you will always be limited by these beliefs, a life that is lived in fear.

Now imagine 5 years from now, feeling that exact same way. But worse.

A boy, I say boy because he just sounded so young to me.  This boy let out a horrific scream like he was being mutilated.  It scared the shit out of me.  Then I thought,

“Why aren’t I having that type of moment?”

Then…

“Imagine it’s 10 years.  Now, people are leaving you because of how you are. You’re all alone”

My knee fucking buckled. I dont know why, but it buckled.  I had to reach back for the arm of my seat. Oh God I couldn’t open my eyes because now…The sobs, the screams…it’s all you could hear and then someone screamed:

“STOP!!!”

At 17 years old, I attempted suicide with my baby brother downstairs.  At 23 I was fully addicted to alcohol, I buried the two people that raised me and my penance for not telling them how much I loved them was feeling like I disappointed them for perpetuity. At 26 we buried my friend that shot himself in the head. The day before, he called and I didn’t answer because I was too hungover.

What I went through for 12 minutes on November 12th, 2016, was the worst moment of my life.  It felt like hell. It was hell…I couldn’t stand straight up. I tried, God knows I tried.  All you heard were people crying uncontrollably.

“Let out a sound that describes what that feels like”

I didn’t know our soul could scream.

“Imagine it’s  20 years”

If he were in front of me…I would have fallen to my knees and begged him to stop.

This is what pathetic feels like.

“Let out a sound that describes what THAT feels like”

I didn’t know the terrified child could scream.

Then..

“REPEAT AFTER ME!”

NOW I AM THE VOICE

I WILL LEAD, NOT FOLLOW

I WILL BELIEVE, NOT DOUBT

I WILL CREATE, NOT DESTROY

I AM A FORCE FOR GOOD

I AM A LEADER

DEFY THE ODDS!!!

SET A NEW STANDARD!!!

STEP UP! STEP UP!! STEP UP!!!

“NOW MAKE THE SOUND OF EVERLASTING JOY!”

YES! MOTHER FUCKING YES!!!!

This is was unstoppable feels like!

And like that, it turned into the most epic moment of my life.  That’s all you get.  My words will never accurately describe what happened after.  I will continue on with certain aspects, but you must feel it for yourself.  Do it for yourself.  Give yourself that gift.  For some, it will be the very first time you ever truly loved yourself.

And what a glorious feeling that is.

All I’m going to say what happened to me physically is this.  I had an aisle seat and had to reach back to make sure I didn’t fall down the stairs because of…I felt sick.  Violently sick. But this is aimed at those that were there, does anyone wish they had someone handing out a few tissues?  The amount of snot coming out of my nose.

And then we had to stick our fucking fingers up the damn thing. Do you honestly think something didn’t stick to it when I pulled it out?  All the while talking to the person to my left?

That was part of breaking the pattern.  We touched base with our inner child, and proved how foolish these beliefs were.  This was proceeded by replacing a lot of our past with our undetermined future.  Oh and what a future I now have waiting for me.

This was the last day with Tony and it was everything you could have prayed, hoped and dreamed of. He was humorous, educating, informative, passionate, honest, and loving.  If some how, some way he sees this.  Thank you.  It was an awful nice thing you did for us…me.

And we fucking rocked that place until 12am!!!

The next hour was for those that wished to sign up for the Mastery Program.  He came back on after 1am but I left at about 12:45.  I had just “exorcised the demons”, I was spent.

Life officially hit the reset button.

Christ, even Lou gave me a massage!

Nothing could touch me, right?

WRONG!

Fucking Uber…

 

For anyone looking for information about the event or anything to do with Tony Robbins, please call:  Angel McDonnell at 858-535-6287. Or email her at angel.mcdonnell@tonyrobbins.com

Please be sure to  tell her that I sent you.

Thank you and be sure to subscribe to find out when my next blog is posted

 

 

Screw the person, help the dog.

Have you ever been the “Phone a friend”? And no, I don’t mean Regis on the other end asking: “Keith is that you? Regis Philbin, Who Wants to be a Millionaire”.  You ever notice on that show that the person always answered on the first ring?  Little desperate.

The phone a friend I’m talking about, well…

The first instance I can recall was a classmate of mine my senior year in high school.  I went to a very small Catholic High School in Rutland,VT.  A city that lately has become synonymous with heroin and a Syrian refugee debate.  Poor Syrians, not only to they have to go to a place they are not wanted.  They have to go to Rutland too.

It wasn’t always like this though.  A thriving economy with not one but two General Electric plants.  Multiple factories that provided the nation and parts of the world plastics and wood.   Now, not so much.  But during 1996, booming.  Thanks Slick Willy!!

I was only 17 years old, but a friend was calling me because of my expertise in specific subject matter.  It wasn’t about homework, no one would ever fucking call ME for homework.  It wasn’t for relationship advice. I was better in science than I was in relationships and I consistently failed science.  No, the subject was way more serious than that.  She was calling me to tell me she wanted to kill herself.  Only weeks before, maybe days, I was released from Cheshire Medical Center in New Hampshire, where I stayed for 15 Days and 14 Nights.  At 17 years old, I was the one that answered the: “Cry for Help”.  I don’t know how many of you have had that luxury.  But, being handed that responsibility, in the same very room you attempted your own suicide attempt, only days after coming back there.  I will just say this:

I wouldn’t have had anyone else fucking do it!

Oh, and she lived.

Years later, well, I may have gotten that call again.  This time, I was too hungover to talk.

3 days later.

He didn’t.

Last Friday I get a text from a woman that I think highly of.  We met on one of the many dating websites I subscribe to.  I like to say I’m casting a wide net.  Realistically, I’m just desperate to hear someone hot say I’m cute.  We could go into a very deep psychoanalysis of this, but we will save that for another blog.

My friend, who we will call Faith 333,  is recently separated and has a 10 year old  boy.  Very attractive lady, nice body, a school teacher,  public speaker,  life coach and a writer.  The latter  still something that I’m trying to convince myself that I am.  See you in 3 months Tony Robbins!

Once Faith 333 liberated herself from her marriage and was officially labeled as “Currently Separated”, she  went on one of the many dating websites I frequent on a daily basis.  Now,  to add some credibility; It wasn’t even 2 days into my ex and I deciding to get a divorce before I already had this gorgeous little lady that wanted to meet me on Match.com  And when she did…Let’s just say she got to witness an actual nuclear meltdown from point blank range.  I officially became her dating site horror story.    Eventually, though, I met a girl, that was amazingly sweet but just as amazingly insecure.  We ended up sleeping with each other on the first date and the whole time I couldn’t get the image of my ex out of my head.  Another horror story. Then I  met a hippie girl I obsessed about, but that turned into the Three Mile Island to the previous Chernobyl.  Now, I’ve never seen American Horror Story, but I understand that there are 3 different seasons of it, each with a different story line.  This was my dating life.  Eventually though, I  went down to D.C. just to have sex for a weekend with a girl I was crazy about in another life. A very “No Strings Attached” weekend. But, like any addict, I hopped right back on the Merry-Go-Round of dating websites and  met a crazy Christian.  That ended due to one of those Himalayan Salt Lamps and a rabid cat.  Long story.   And my last fling came and went when I  met the next Senator of NY.  But this one ACTUALLY  became my girlfriend…  For a week!  No shit! Good thing that didn’t become Facebook official, so we can pretend it never happened.

Faith 333 on the other hand met someone that made her feel for the first time in only God knows how long!  Made her feel loved.  Made her feel sexy! Made her feel wanted, desired, coveted.  Unfortunately though, she became second fiddle to addictions like her ex-husband she was still technically married to. She was rejected by this man she met,  which in her heart and mind is her Scarlett Letter, rejection that is. Her and I went out on an official date, and I asked if there was someone else. I had a sense.  She confirmed that she still had feelings for this guy.  Why wouldn’t she?  Imagine you were in an incorrigible situation for YEARS, and when you break free from it, there is someone there that, you thought, swept you off your feet.  The funny thing about encounters like these, desperate enough, you will find any commonality to build upon.  Even though the strongest commonality here was the way she was all alone again, except for the love of her son.  Which was now becoming strenuous due to the horrible back and forth her and her soon to be ex-husband were subjecting him to on a daily basis. And child of divorce knows what I’m talking about.  No matter how much you try not to put the child in the middle, the child(ren) always are.  And typically, one will use the child as leverage.  Which is appalling, but true.  Desperate times call for desperate measures right?  Anyway, the night that Faith 333 and I went out,  my “Spidey Sense” for dating too soon, which I believe I am now an expert of, was freaking out.  I could tell this lovely woman was wounded, and she needed time to heal. But rejection is a son of a bitch…

Many of us know that feeling don’t we?  The feeling of wanting what we can’t have?  We will convince ourselves that it’s SO MUCH MORE than that!  I mean seriously,  I was married to a girl that was talking to other guys online about the possibility of  them meeting BEFORE we got married.  She even contacted the guy on our Honeymoon.  She even had phone sex with one guy.  IN OUR BEDROOM. After being told some of this and figuring out the rest and confronting her about it; You know what happened right after I moved out of our house?

I STILL WANTED HER BACK!

Because she rejected me.  And… I was dying to have sex with her just one last time.

But the text I got from Faith 333 wasn’t about that though.  I actually  mentioned why she did. Did you pick up on it?  He is an addict and alcoholic, and furthermore, and she didn’t know she was doing this, she was worried about him hurting himself after not hearing from him since the evening before.  A night she thought he had been consuming something. But she didn’t know this, but this was now the 3rd time in my life that phone rang and it may have had a persons life hanging in the balance.

And there was no one else that I’d rather have answering that phone call.

After some tears were shed on her part, and understandably so.  No one wants to be rejected.  True story: The last time I heard my ex-wife cry?  She was on the phone with me, still as my wife, and she was listening to me cry about how much I missed her.  She told me to stop crying.  Then I asked about the guy she said she was convinced she was in love with, the internet troll living in his mom and dads basement.  Or so I believe.  She welled up and told me he stopped talking to her. Hmmm…Maybe it was because he was a major reason why you wanted to leave your husband.  It was much deeper than that though, please see a previous blog post of mine.

She asked if I would come over for dinner, which I accepted.  Why?  I’m in a good place emotionally, and when I am, I love to help people.  Does it help that Faith 333 looks the way she does?  It sure as shit doesn’t hurt.

While I was there we enjoyed each others deep conversations, while revealing some of our darkest moments.  I’m not the type that goes on to social media and just blabs about my problems.  That’s what blogs are for!  No, seriously though, we have a connection.  We ended up watching that Tony Robbin’s movie on Netflix and talked until midnight.  I kissed her on the cheek and forehead to let her know she is loved, and wished her a good night.

The next morning I woke up in a pisser of a mood.  I don’t typically stay up past 10pm, primarily because I wake up religiously before 6am.  So, falling asleep at around 1am and waking up at 6am flat out sucks. Instantly something that happened at the end of my work day popped into my head, which did nothing but perpetuate my bad mood.  Then I got a notification on my phone, then another, and another.  Faith 333 thanked me so much for what I did and told me that she was going to do what she needed to.  I suggested the night before that she focus on her son.  Being a son of an ugly divorce, which she is going through, the child needs to be at the forefront of her mind, not a guy she was chasing.

So Faith 333 said she was going to do just that, focus on her son…Until, well, emotion takes a hold of your throat and then face punches you over, and over, and over, and over and over, and over…and when you think it’s finally done, it starts back up even stronger than before.  Why?  Because nobody wants to be rejected.  Remember my ex-wife and her internet fairy tale lover?  I would have taken her back in a second during the first year of our divorce, and probably portions of the second.  THAT is how powerful the feeling of rejection is.  It’s like an addiction to heroin mixed with cocaine.

She asked if she could come see me and go for a bike ride.  My bad mood from lack of sleep and work immediately dissipated.  I started to clean up, get myself ready, and get psyched for my ride.  It was shortly followed by her texting that  she got sick and can’t come.  Funny how your body reacts when your mind convinces you that there is a crisis happening.  Now, my bad mood came back with a vengeance.  I decided I would read which  didn’t last longer than two sentences.  My anger and frustration with everything I did, was willing to do, and was excited to keep on doing overwhelmed me.  So what did I do you may ask?

I got the fuck up.

Everyday, especially lately thanks to the nice weather.  I go for a walk first thing in the morning.  One morning though, I see a German Sheppard running around only a street up from my place.  Now, my childhood best friend had a German Sheppard growing up, his name was Apollo.   Appropriately named because he was as terrifying as the boxer in the Rocky movies and as fast a space rocket.  So there is a bit of a fear from adolescence that resurfaces when I see one.  Especially one that is free from his chain.  But I decided that day to keep on my path.  Not going to lie, I definitely turned around and started having second thoughts.  But as I approached the dog, I remembered a lesson I saw watching G.I Joe.

 

What I did do though was turn my hand palm side down and let him sniff the back of my hand.  He licked my hand and we realized we were both friendly and very beautiful.  A minute later I heard a whistle, turned around, and grabbed the dog by the collar and brought him to his somewhat grateful, annoyed, and embarrassed owner.

Fast forward back to the morning that Faith 333 “blew me off”.  I kid, because I will send this to her.  I began my walk on this beautiful morning and instantly I started feeling better.  Then a man in his Chevy Silverado pulls up and asked if I’ve seen a dog?  Told him that I haven’t but I did ask what kind?

A German Sheppard he said.  I quickly responded, without thinking of how douchey it may sound:

“Oh are you the same guy that lost him 2 weeks ago?”

“Yes”. he said with a soft tone that essentially said: “Son of a bitch, does this guy only walk when I lose my dog?!?”

Now that I think of it, I wasn’t douchey; Here is an idea, stop losing your damn dog?!?

Minutes later I saw the dog and we ran up to each other like two hippies tripping on acid that finally found each through the forest of people at a Summer Festival.  Seconds after that, I saw the guys truck and we got our dog back to his owner.  I continued on my walk with my head held high, my shoulders back, and an immense sense of pride.

Moral of the story or for some of you and what the fuck is the point of this for the rest:

The point is…We say things happen for a reason and some of us say “It is what it is”.

Fuck that!

When you’re feeling down, depressed, sad or are just not feeling mentally well: Get up, go do something for you, something for a family member. And if they suck, do in spite of.  If they suck that much, do something  for a friend.  And if you don’t have any friends, do it for a co-worker, and if they smell like 3 day old cheese, do something for a stranger, and if strangers scare you, JUST DO SOMETHING!

Because a dog could be lost without you.

A classmate may hate her life so much not realizing that she eventually can leave and be free of her mothers dark shadow.

A mentor may be lost and you may know the way out.

Or your friend calls, and because he’s not a good looking girl like the other two, you don’t answer the phone and then he’s gone.

 

Please trust me, doing something, no matter how painful it can be.  I promise you, it will never be as horrifying as the feeling that comes from doing nothing.
Live with passion!

-k