What Makes You Happy?

What Makes You Happy

 

I haven’t written in a long time, part of me felt like it was maybe because I’ve been doing better. I haven’t been feeling as depressed. My life had seemingly come together, even if just the slightest. I always told myself that when hockey ended, I was going to become an author, a literary wizard; I was going to write every day now that I had a bit more time. Well, hockey’s been over for about six weeks, and I am just starting to write at 10:56PM Easter Sunday.

Sure, I’ve been busy with things in the meantime, but if anyone knows me, busy, is not an excuse. If you want something bad enough, you’ll find the means to do it. Busy doesn’t exist in my world. It’s not because I don’t ever do anything, in fact, that’s probably quite the opposite. I probably have more going on than most folk. Actually, I could almost guarantee that. I just don’t feel the need to let everyone know how I preoccupied I am. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way. It makes me sick when people say they are too busy.

Why? I remember years ago, my sister tried to chat with me through Facebook, through simple Internet chat… and, I recall looking at the messages, the message read something along the lines of hey, call me when you got some time, want to know how college is going. I looked at it, thought, meh; I’ll call her later… I am busy. I never called her. And, I don’t know if I ever talked to her again. She committed suicide a couple of months after, and I’ve never been too busy since.   So when people tell me, they are too busy. It doesn’t sit well. At all.

So, to say that I haven’t been writing, because I have been doing well, or because I have been doing poorly… I don’t even know the answer. Sometimes life has a tendency to just happen, and just leave me trapped in the motions that I just can’t comprehend the appropriate emotions, and feelings.

I know that writing provides me with the single most joyous experiences of my life. So, you would think it’s easier to do so. But… for some reason, it’s been getting more difficult, and for the first time, I feel like my writing is actually good. In the past, all I did was write about how I felt. That’s it. There was no scientific method to it; there was no English specialty behind it. Simply, just how I felt. I have such a difficult time re-reading my pieces, for a variety of reasons… mainly because I feel such a huge disconnect with the person who wrote that very piece, but also because… I think it’s shit. I looked earlier, and I have posted 47 entries to GAB. This being 48. I can honestly say that 1 was of quality, Your Move Chief. So, as much gratification as writing brings me… I don’t know if it’s from the actual writing, or the feedback. As pathetic as this may be, I seek so much approval, and accreditation, from… whomever, predominantly from my mom, and from my fiancé…. It’s pathetic, if I don’t hear anything within a day or so, I am texting those two asking what they thought… It drives me crazy that I do this. But… I do. And, I can probably recap every single compliment, or piece of positive feedback I have received from my blog. There is truly nothing, and I mean NOTHING more gratifying than when I hear about people who have read my blog, and find comfort from reading. Whether, I know them or not. I spend so much time wanting to write, then I spend such little time actually writing, and I conclude with spending even more time looking for approval on my writing. From, my family… my fiancé… my best friends… my friends… strangers… When, I receive this, it’s pure happiness. Joy. Elation. You know that feeling where you just can’t wipe that smile off your face. This is the only time I’ll feel it. So you’d think I’d write more, with this being the case. But, truth is… I think I have become a bit scared. My unrelenting life standards have once again trapped me with failure. Where, I need simple accolades. However, that’s slowed down significantly. I don’t know if it’s because my writing has gotten stale, or the content has. Or maybe, I am just without the random viewers from Europe. Or, perhaps, the people who have already graciously patted my back don’t feel like they need to tell me good job every single fucking time. Though they shouldn’t. However, I feel like, unless I get that… I am failing. I want to know what every single person thinks of my writing, even if they think it’s complete crap. I just want to know… because; I think it is too, I can’t even find myself appreciative, and satisfied with my own work.

So, in getting to the point of this entry… the great folks at Mind Your Mind proposed the question, what makes you happy? I thought about it for a long, long time. There are so many things that I enjoy, so many. But, to label them as something that makes me completely happy would likely be false. I think at any point, doing makes me happy. Regardless, of what it is that I am doing. I think sometimes you can find temporary joy in that, and I do. But, I tried to really think of something that makes me truly happy. True joy. I almost couldn’t think of anything, till I thought about writing, then I thought about all of the positive feedback I have received over the two years, and the people I have been able to help, if even just to help them temporarily. This has brought me pure joy, and continues to do so. It’s the only thing that allows me to feel self-pride, and self worth. Regardless, of the success I have at work, or in coaching sports, or my daily life even. I always seem to be stuck wanting more, and eventually get a place where good just isn’t good enough. But, with writing, that’s different. Even, if I receive two notes about my latest post, to me it was a success, and it provides that feeling. That feeling where I can’t stop but smiling, even if it’s a random stranger at an arena that says, “hey, you’re the guy that writes that mental health blog” … Yes, I guess so. These are the things that keep me ticking, and continue to remind me just what it is to feel joy, and to feel good.

You just hope that somehow you can find a way to enjoy, accept and appreciate your own bravery and work. Sometimes there is just far too much pressure on writing purely for the audience, and hoping to help them find joy, and hope. I need to find my own first.

Rest easy, and rest happily Max. I hope you can still find some time to read my blog, and I hope that you’ve found true joy.   I know you and Jen are hanging out as we speak. Listening to music, watching over us, and laughing at us.

B 

My Beautiful Girl

I wanted to post this yesterday but didn’t have a chance.  Also likely going to take some real flak from the boys for posting this; soft! So I was probably delaying that a little bit too!

Keeping things with Valentines Day, and in a week or so will be the 11 year anniversary since I asked Amanda to go out with me. Thankfully, she said yes.  We’d be 12 years but she said no the year before!

Anyway, I wrote this letter for her a couple weeks back when I was heading home from Hawaii without her.

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It hasn’t been more than thirty minutes since I last looked back, and waved goodbye. I finished my tour of anxiety through security, looked back to you, and waved. You immediately waved back. I could see the excitement in you that I had looked back to see you one last time. I made my way up the escalator, and I hoped I’d see you once more; I didn’t want to lose sight of you.  You must have left, and then it hit me. You were gone, and I was going the other way. We were apart. In most worlds, and most relationships, I think people look forward to four days of alone time, and there isn’t likely to be a person who loves their alone time more than me. But this time… it hurt me. I don’t know why. I think every time I am not by your side, I am so afraid that it’s the last time I will see you. The last time I will see happiness. I think one of the things that people go through when they suffer from depression is, though they may have moments of happiness, and elation… It doesn’t always last, and when it’s gone, it’s heart sinking because you always feel like that may be the last time you’ll feel that joy again. That’s how I am every time

You have this weird way of allowing me to be happy, to have fun, and to feel like everything is going to be just fine. Even if in the moment, it doesn’t seem like it will be. I used to always be so hard on myself, expect so much of myself, that it was nearly impossible for me to ever find happiness. I blamed myself for every little thing that went wrong, things I couldn’t even control; I found a way to make it my fault. I lost all sense of hope, peace and completely lost all hope of happiness. I can remember that time I was really at rock bottom and you went miles above your call of duty to ensure I was ok. After talking to the psychiatrist about how I was feeling, I remember her coming back into the room. I was ready for her to tell me I needed to be locked up, or kept overnight because I was crazy, or something was wrong with me. She didn’t say the former, or the latter. She just said, I think he is just very, very sad. She could not have been more correct. There was no need for this significant diagnosis, exams, or medications. I wasn’t going to hurt myself, or hurt anyone. I didn’t want too. I was just simply, or complicated-ly…sad.   At the time, I never thought I could lean on you the way I have learned how to now. I didn’t want to hurt you, let you down, or feel vulnerable. I was afraid of that. I thought I could deal with my despair independently. This led me down a path I wish to never return. Using alcohol as a crutch. I’d drink, and drink, drink some more and continually party. I knew that this wasn’t making me any less sad, or any happier. It was temporary relief, where I would simply forget my sadness for an evening, only to awake to a stronger never-ending mountain of grief. This wasn’t working. Most people would have left me on my own after the pain I had caused you, all of it completely unfair to you. Though, through it all, you never budged, you never gave up. I am sure that it must have been extremely hard on you. Nights I was out partying and you had no idea where I was, what I was doing, when I was coming home, or if I even was. I’m sure I caused you many long, sleepless and emotionally drowning nights. I am certain of it now. For that, I cannot apologize enough, and I cannot thank you enough for never losing hope and faith in me. You somehow always found something in me I could never find in myself.

When I started to realize that the crutch I was using was only digging me deeper into darkness, and I decided enough was enough. I needed to find help, elsewhere. You had longed for me to enter the PAS program at the hospital, and try it. Finally, I did. And, throughout my weekly sessions for eight months, I learned so much about myself; I think I gained so much strength in those eight months. I learned different ways to channel my sadness, and try to turn it into something else, I learned that it’s ok to sometimes feel like nothing, to sometimes feel as if you’re mental space has completely died, yet your still moving physically. I learned that it’s ok to feel vulnerable, and for years, I was mortified of this. It was ok to feel weak, and to have those around me know that I was weak, and that I was hurting, and it was ok to lean on your for help, and for strength.

I don’t know what the real turning point was in those eight months that have led us to today, but I keep thinking back to that exercise I completed in therapy where I had to write you a letter explaining why I had a difficult time leaning on you. I’ve always been better with writing my feelings down, than I have been verbalizing them. We know that. Yet, I was so scared to give you this letter. It took three weeks. Finally, I did. I had never been so nervous in my life. I was afraid I was going to hurt you. I had no idea what to expect from you in response to this letter. I watched your every move as you read the pages I delivered to you. My mind raced, attempting to analyze your every thought. Finally, you finished, looked me deep in the eyes, and told me we’re ok, hugged me, gave me a kiss and told me that you loved me. You didn’t get upset. You didn’t shut down. You didn’t try to dig for more. Your response was everything I would have envisioned in a perfect world. And, at that very moment, I think you made me truly feel like everything was going to be ok, no matter how weak I was at the time, or at anything… or how much I was hurting. You were there for me.

Fast forward to today, as I make my way home on my own. I looked back to see you one last time as I rose up the escalator… and it hit me. You are truly everything to me. I am heart broken to be away from you even if for a few short days. It sounds pathetic, but it’s true. I have finally found peace, strength and happiness alongside you, and being able to confide in you has provided me with a life of joy that I could have never imagined.

I can’t wait to be home with you again.

I love you, my beautiful girl.

Early Loser Moment of 2013

Further & Further into the Unknown

Flight Recorder from Viking 7

Well, Happy New Year to all.  So far 2013 has been rocking.  I have seen already crossed path with more celebrities then I have in any years previous…combined.  That been cool.  Maybe it is some kind of foreshadowing sign of my coming fame! I also enjoyed a few dark chocolate chunk cookies from Cookies By George.  Pretty Cool.  Anyone remember the first thing they ate in 2012? No. Probably not.  I don’t.  Hope everyone enjoyed a safe, and happy new year and concluded the holiday season with smiles, friends & families.

As I sit here on this Air Canada Airbus – En route to Hawaii for my annual vacation, and to start off this new calendar year.  Tough, I know.  I already told you. It’s been rocking!  As I was, I sit here, and first of all, I am absolutely freezing to death, and am puzzled as to why there can’t be even the slightest little bit of heat coming from this plane. I also sit here, thoroughly annoyed of the person who continually rifles off his “I need help right this second” beeper/light.  Whatever it is.  I have never in my life rang it, as I have always been patient, and trusting enough that the flight attendants will make there rounds in due time, and I will get whatever it is I need.  Though, maybe I should ring and get a blanket.  Nah, I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.  I’ll freeze. Some other people though. Clearly not. K seriously. The same guy has since rang it 5 times in the time it took me to type those few lines. I am starting to think it might just be an annoying child…  In a grown ups body.  I feel sorry for these flight attendants, I certainly could not deal with those people.  Actually, I could.  Here is how.  First, I would scan the situation, see if there is any need for first aid.  Hopefully there isn’t.  Then I would continually walk by the impatient prick, but in the opposite aisle (yes, big plane) and then, I would just continually antagonize the impatient murphy till he gave it a rest.  Kind of like my belief on crying babies.  Lock them in a room, and let em’ cry themselves to sleep.  Don’t worry. I am not a parent. Nor have any plans to ever become one. This is just how I deal with my brothers, Brody & Kyle.  13 & 21 respectively.  Still. Lock the babies in a room, they’ll cry themselves to sleep.   Haha.  Kidding bro’s!  Kind of.  Also, as I sit here on this plane.  I truly think I have the best seat on the entire air bus. Well, second.  Whoever the third person in the seat next to Dallas Green, and Leah Miller…  They might be the luckiest.  But, in terms of space.  I am right in the middle of the machine, and have a pair of seats to myself, with the window.  Across the small aisle is 3 seats, and only one person is in that! I debated whether or not she had the best seat, because she has 3 seats to herself, but then I looked out the window and saw the plane wing, and decided when we are landing in Maui, I will have the best seats as I check out the views.  She will… uhh, check me out while I check out the views.  Boom.   But yes, if you are still wondering about what I just briefly mentioned.  Dallas Green is about 25 rows ahead of me with his lovely looking wife, Leah.  Of course they flew fancy class, Which is cool. If I could, I would.  This is a long flight.  Fortunately, I got seats to my self.  But, seeing those 2 on this plane… Makes me wonder, Surely they have enough money between the two of them they are able to fly on there own, privately to Maui. Or, surely they have friends who can hook them up… Etc.  So, I am slightly puzzled as too why they choose charter.  I know nothing about flying private, so I don’t want to create much of an argument.  So, I will settle for the answer that I presume is the truth, they are flying charter, cause they just want to be normal.  Good for them. Good humble, Canadian kids.  Why can’t the rest be like the best.  Oh, also on this flight.  Mr. Mayor; Naheed Nenshi.  Not sure where he is sitting.  But, the man is somewhere on here. Just a plane of celebrities.  Dallas Green, Leah Miller, Naheed Nenshi……. Me; The Kid.

It was actually quite funny, I am about a big a fan of airports, as I am the Calgary Flames.  I absolutely hate airports. (And, the flames) Few things in life can stress me out like that of an airport.  And, I am not entirely sure why.  I have never really had any scares.  I am always organized, though in my own unique way.  I am always on time and prepared, and I have been on about 200 airplanes, so I know and understand the process.  But, still, it get’s to me.  Going through security, going through customs.  Holy piss.  What a stresser.  Once I get through customs, and security, which almost never do I beep; I am completely relieved.  Feel completely lighter, and relaxed. Then the vacation is on.  The reason I never am excited for vacations, is because I haven’t gone through security yet. Once I get through.  Party On Wayne!!!  Haha.  So, yes. I am walking to my gate, I always go there first just to see where I am going, so I am prepared, then I typically, enjoy a beer, a sandwich, or whatever, Starbucks.  This time, I walk into my boarding room, and I see Mr. Mayor Naheed Nenshi.  I know very, very little about him, and politics in general.  Other than he used to be a professor at MRU, while I was student, and of course, he is the Mayor of the city I live in, which, in itself, should be enough to make me have some interest in it.  But, no.  Though, Of any political figure, I do quite like Nenshi.  He has gone with the times, and is very social, personable, and I love how he utilizes social media.  I do appreciate that.  Being personable is a lost quality for people in positions of power.  However, Nenshi has stuck with it, and is always interacting with us Calgarians.  To me, that’s top notch, and he’ll continue to get my votes.  Any-who.  I was so excited that I saw the Mayor, even though, I have seen him around Calgary a few other times, including the Malcolm Gladwell show.  He’s probably the most famous person I have seen just chilling, other than maybe seeing the rock band P.O.D at LAX 10 years ago.  But, instead of going to talk to the man, and say hi.  I, a victim of this generation, decide to tweet him!  “Hey, @nenshi, have a good flight! I see you in the boarding room, got time for a beer?”  Yes. Creepy, I know.  I tweeted this, while he was maybe 15 seats away from me.  Haha.  Thinking I wouldn’t get a reply, within moments I have a reply.  “No beer for me, but please come and say hi!”  Oh shit.  Now what.  That was unexpected.  A logical person, would have, went and introduced themselves, and said hello.  But, then between thinking, I don’t really want to be that guy, and what would we talk about, I got all flustered and took a different seat.  A bigger, more luxurious seat, and began trying to collect myself.  Well, here comes the fucking knuckled! Sweet Bell Peppers.  Amidst, trying to collect my shit, and stop acting like a 11 year old girl who just saw Justin Bieber. I am buried nose deep into my phone, as per usual, and then, oh man, you know when you just feel someone looking at you,  Yea, I did.  So, I look up, and sweet crocodile rock, It’s fucking Dallas Green & his wife Leah Miller.  I am pretty sure, we made extremely awkward eye contact.  As I can guarantee as I saw them, I burnt a hole staring through them.  So, my loser moment of the year…took… all of 15 hours to happen.  Good one kid.  So, As I am trying to collect myself from being star struck by the Calgary Mayor, one of my favourite musicians; Dallas Green walks by.  Wow, the guy is beeping his “Help me” light again, constantly.  STOP IT. Anyways. I am a huge Dallas Green fan, I love City & Colour, right from his first album. I also enjoyed his band, or former now I suppose; Alexisonfire.  Especially their later stuff, where he had a much bigger hand in the vocals.  My sister was also a fan of Dallas Green, which adds sentimental value for me.  Also, I can remember when Leah Miller was a MM VJ, and I was just in love with her.  So, seeing these two, was pretty cool.  I never knew really if I would ever be a star-struck kind of person, cause I have never really had to find out.  Like I said, I haven’t seen many famous people, and the ones I have seen, I couldn’t care all that much about.  Until, now seeing someone that I do truly appreciate. Yep. I was starstruck.  I think I texted & tweeted everyone I knew, while, I stared at the two of them for ohh, I dunno, the next hour? Haha. Many times, I had to tell myself, deep breaths, they are only people bud. All the while, amongst this, I completely forgot about the mayor, who I was trying to collect myself so I could introduce myself.  I was fixated on the Greens. But then too, I wouldn’t talk to them, again, not wanting to be “that guy”.  Meanwhile, though, I tweeted something about having just seen him, and mentioned @cityandcolour, and then my girlfriend tweeted me, mentioning both him and I.  And, while I was still completely staring at them, He was on his phone quite a bit, and I wonder if he saw those string of tweets… And, thought, What the fuck. Haha.  The poor guy. Sorry. Awkward. So, yes.  Apparently I do get star struck, or at least did that time.  It completely threw me off guard! Not fair.  Oh, and then I instantly changed my iPod “Now Playing” playlist to that of City & Colour.  Haha. Loooooooosssser.

I will most likely get off this plane as fast as I possibly can, and will try and find a spot next to them at baggage claim, and again, not say a word, but just blatantly stare at them.

As I mentioned, Definitely my loser moment of 2013 already.  I don’t think I could surpass this in the next 300 & some days, even if I tried.  Maybe at some point in the next 4.5 hours of this flight, I will go up there and ask him if he wants the bag of peanuts I got.  I don’t know, maybe they don’t get those snacks in first class, and all the guy wants is a normal dudes baggy of salted airplane peanuts.  (I think I just surpassed my loser moment already)

I don’t even remember Jan 1/2012.  Jan 1/2013 has already been an absolutely hilarious, fun day.  Though it is only 7pm. Or, wait. No. I am somewhere in the air, so I have no clue of the time. But, lets hope today really is a sign of things to come for the new calendar year.

Happy New Year everyone, I hope the new year does bring you everything, or almost everything that you wish, and pray for, and most of all, I hope it brings you health, happiness and laughter.   Because, I know the entire world could use just a little bit more of each.

Thanks for reading goneawayboys

– Check me out on Twitter for a lighter, sharper, wittier, comical, arguing me! @BlairLystang