Mental Health

Help Support Talkbeer:

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Sep 30, 2013
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I'm having a really shitty couple of weeks and tonight it seemed to come to a head. I definitely need to go see my therapist but she moved her practice over an hour away and it isn't convenient to see her anymore. I know I should just take the trip down for at least a session because I need to talk to someone and starting over with a new person seems like I'm spinning my wheels.

I never put this thread in my "watched", which I probably should have (and did tonight) because it's good that we keep tabs on each other. The post from jmgrub has me in tears right now. I've never been suicidal. Too fucking afraid to die honestly. And that's where some of my anxiety and shit comes from, having so many close family members die young from disease.

Hard to hear the news about cyde too. I saw the picture that Lutter posted with him and I guess his wife? Seems like he was living the dream which might be half the problem.

Living a dream life you feel like you aren't really a part of.

Fuck.
I don’t want any more headaches after the one I had last night drinking with Zach’s (cyde) friends remembering his loss. Truly an inconceivable loss. If you need anything reach out to me. I’ll listen. We all go through bad times. After going through my wife’s mom dying this year unexpectedly and how hard that had been it’s really tough. Life is hard sometimes but there are always people to support.
 
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So my mother passed unexpectedly three weeks ago today. There were the formalities of putting her things and wishes in order. By chance I had family in town that weekend; we played board games and bullshitted and it was a welcomed distraction.

Her memorial was this past Saturday and I delivered a eulogy that I had thought about for a long time. It went well.

But now those formalities and processes are over. It’s tough.

My sister found my mother’s diary, which I told her not to read, but really, how could she not? It’s contents are disturbing to her, though I find them to be in line with anyone’s innermost thoughts. Shit you feel, but can’t say, yknow?

After the first couple of days, the waves of grief had stopped, but now I feel them again. I know this is the natural way of things, but this sucks.

I had a great relationship with her, and I don’t regret anything, but the warmth of a mothers hug is unlike anything else.

If you’re fortunate enough to have your folks around, please tell them how you feel about them, because you never know.
 
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So my mother passed unexpectedly three weeks ago today. There were the formalities of putting her things and wishes in order. By chance I had family in town that weekend; we played board games and bullshitted and it was a welcomed distraction.

Her memorial was this past Saturday and I delivered a eulogy that I had thought about for a long time. It went well.

But now those formalities and processes are over. It’s tough.

My sister found my mother’s diary, which I told her not to read, but really, how could she not? It’s contents are disturbing to her, though I find them to be in line with anyone’s innermost thoughts. Shit you feel, but can’t say, yknow?

After the first couple of days, the waves of grief had stopped, but now I feel them again. I know this is the natural way of things, but this sucks.

I had a great relationship with her, and I don’t regret anything, but the warmth of a mothers hug is unlike anything else.

If you’re fortunate enough to have your folks around, please tell them how you feel about them, because you never know.
It's really shitty to lose a parent. My dad died when I was 10 and at this point I've been without a father longer than I had one. I've also have outlived him age wise which has been a mindfuck to me recently. I was lucky enough to have a bunch of surrogate dads to help fill the void thankfully.

I hope you and your family can get through the tough times and if you ever need to talk I'm here man.
 
Joined
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So my mother passed unexpectedly three weeks ago today. There were the formalities of putting her things and wishes in order. By chance I had family in town that weekend; we played board games and bullshitted and it was a welcomed distraction.

Her memorial was this past Saturday and I delivered a eulogy that I had thought about for a long time. It went well.

But now those formalities and processes are over. It’s tough.

My sister found my mother’s diary, which I told her not to read, but really, how could she not? It’s contents are disturbing to her, though I find them to be in line with anyone’s innermost thoughts. Shit you feel, but can’t say, yknow?

After the first couple of days, the waves of grief had stopped, but now I feel them again. I know this is the natural way of things, but this sucks.

I had a great relationship with her, and I don’t regret anything, but the warmth of a mothers hug is unlike anything else.

If you’re fortunate enough to have your folks around, please tell them how you feel about them, because you never know.

I'm sorry to hear of the loss of your mother, and I'm glad you were pleased with the eulogy you delivered. I hope that was somewhat therapeutic and something you can remember in a positive way.

It's been almost two and a half years since my dad killed himself, and I still struggle at times. The difference is that I can brush it off more quickly than I could before. Despite the dependency issues he dealt with, I never had a negative relationship with him.

I'll still see or hear something and think, "Shit, I need to mention that to my dad." Then, my stomach drops and I remember I'll never be able to do that again. It's such a strange, sickening feeling, and it surprises me that it happens to this day. Initially, that would get me into a funk for entire days or longer, but I've somewhat trained myself to immediately switch to a positive memory of a time when he and my family were happy: usually an image of him at the beach during one of our family vacations when I was a kid.

Everyone is different and that trick might not work for you (or maybe it will); I didn't get myself to successfully start doing it for almost a year after his death.

This shit is hard as hell. Hang in there and learn as you go as to what helps you cope most successfully with such a difficult loss.
 
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Tomorrow morning I’m going to see my brother for the first time in over a year. He’s been in prison since last February. Heroin is a motherfucker. I haven’t spoken to him outside of the quick “hey” at holidays on the phone when we get the “you have a call from an inmate at Lorain correctional institution” phone call.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to say to him. I have absolutely no desire to speak to him. The only reason I’m going is because my parents are finally going out of town for the first time in forever and my mom pleaded with me to go since they usually do.
 

jmgrub

real Gs move in silence like lasagna
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Tomorrow morning I’m going to see my brother for the first time in over a year. He’s been in prison since last February. Heroin is a motherfucker. I haven’t spoken to him outside of the quick “hey” at holidays on the phone when we get the “you have a call from an inmate at Lorain correctional institution” phone call.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to say to him. I have absolutely no desire to speak to him. The only reason I’m going is because my parents are finally going out of town for the first time in forever and my mom pleaded with me to go since they usually do.
Were you guys close when you were younger/kids?
 
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Were you guys close when you were younger/kids?
We were. We had to be for a few years. My parents moved from a brand new house to a 1920 bungalow and added onto three sides of the house. We were homeschooled for a year during the transition and were quite close during the other years. We grew apart after that. We’re two totally different people in all reality.

As it turns out someone gave my mom the wrong info. I was not allowed to go into the visitors room because my paperwork has to be approved beforehand. (They were told I could just bring it in with me). But it was fucking weird driving up to the prison and then hearing my brother be referred to as “Inmate XXXXXXX”.
 
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One of my all-time favorite musicians, Roky Erickson, passed away over the weekend. Instead of spamming with drunken snippets of his music and interviews, thought it might actually be best to post something in here as catharsis.

Roky's life was fraught with well-documented bouts of mental illness, arguably stemming from drugs and/or electro-shock therapy that he received in his early 20s. Aside from his intense catalog of songs that heavily influenced nearly all of my favorite genres of music (see: the unending tributes from every corner of the music universe over the weekend), I began to feel a kinship with him maybe a decade or so ago for another reason.

I had an uncle who passed away almost 15 years ago when I was in my early 20s. He battled schizophrenia (like Roky did) for for his entire life. For the majority of my childhood, my memories of him consisted of him sitting in his rocking chair talking about the voices in his head. As a young kid, my instincts were to avoid interacting with him as much as possible. I didn't know how to deal with that. But as I got a bit older and started asking more questions, I learned that he and my dad had been in a band in high school and early on into college. I began asking him more about those days and what his influences were. There was one thing he said that broke my heart then and has stuck with me ever since when it comes to music and mental health. He told me that at some point, he had to choose between the medication that quieted the voices or being able to play the guitar. Sadly, his illness was so bad, that the meds were a necessity and he had to give up the guitar - something that he clearly held very dearly even in our conversations about music decades after he stopped playing. It still weighs heavily on me that there are some people that are forced into this choice. Music is such a powerful therapeutic release for me, that I couldn't possibly fathom having to cope with any type of illness without it's guidance.

In listening to some of Roky's post-diagnosis tunes, it's clear that he too was dealing with this battle. The images from the lyrics in his music so clearly represent mental delusions. Or maybe not? Can't be sure I suppose. But then he went through a period where he was known to be medicated and couldn't/didn't write any new music or perform at all. Only in his later years with help from fellow Austin-based bands like Black Angels and Okkervil River was he able to perform again - admittedly, mostly as a figurehead. Thankfully I got to see him play once in Cleveland back in 2010. (I passed on another opportunity this past October when in LA for work...opting instead to see Ty Segall. I don't necessarily regret it, but would have been nice to see him play one last time.)

At some point, I think I began to link Roky with my uncle and subconsciously associated Roky's late career resurgence with a sort of vicarious second chance for my uncle? There are many reasons that Roky's passing has devastated me, but mental health factors and memories of my uncle's struggles certainly play a role. Even though ultimately, I think Roky's story can/will/should be viewed as a victorious one with regards to this subject because of how much he had to overcome. While it was a difficult life, he was still able to get his music out there and share himself with the world. Thankfully.

If you're interested, for those who haven't seen it, the documentary aptly titled "You're Gonna Miss Me" provides a ton of insight into his life and battle with mental health issues.

RIP Roky - thanks for all the tunes and inspiration!
 

BadJustin

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If my fucking friends could stop dying this year, that would be great. 3 so far in 2019, THREE. Instead of saving kind words and sharing memories and thoughts of loved ones when they are gone, share them with them now. Tomorrow is not guaranteed.
 
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I left out that my sister in law is turning 48 tomorrow. This drive is scary and seems to be taking forever. My wife is listening to her playlist of 90s pop rock shit music that I loathe. A second ago she turned down Linkin Park to say, “We’re driving to see my sister die. I just needed to say that out loud.” I need to stay strong for the family but man this sucks.
 
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So another friend died. Drank himself to death. He was the one who called me in 2015 to tell me our friend killed himself. Ten months later he lost his best friend in an alcohol-related death. He's been all fucked up ever since.

These last couple years he's been feigning recovery. His closeted drinking was fooling no one; not his wife, daughter, friends, or employer. No one knew what to do. Most of us tried to do something. I learned there was a recent intervention and subsequent short stay at a rehab facility. A short time later he went missing. A short time thereafter his body was found in a parked car with a bunch of booze. Looked to be from cardiac arrest.

There was no separating him from his destructive path, but it's hard for those who loved him to accept that. It was hard when he was still here, and it's still hard now that he's gone. I saw this coming. I see it coming again. After my first friend passed I grew nervous for 3 people in my life who I thought were all drinking too much and/or wrestling with depression in an unmanageable manner. Two of them have now died. The other is my brother. It's like he's just sitting there on the train tracks.
 
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Hi guys.

My dad passed peacefully on Saturday morning.

Sharing with you here because that's what we do.



I will likely be off-site for a couple weeks. Just know that I'm ok, despite a brutal month. I'm taking care of myself. My family is in a good place.

Looks like I'm eulogizing Jack. I worked on it from 5am to 3pm yesterday.

I look forward to pushing my Mom along in the ALZ walk at the end of the month. Thanks to those who have already contributed, to those who have given the last few years, and to those who are going to right now:

act.alz.org/goto/mrdave

Take a bow, Jack!

 
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Thanks Adam (both Adams) for the generous donation(s), Justin for the condolences on FB, Scott for the hospitality this weekend, and Chris for the check-in text. Once again, the TB community demonstrates itself to be a compassionate group of folks who take care of each other. Happy to (sorta) know you all. Cheers!
 
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UPDATE: Rosary was Sunday, Funeral was Monday. More people than expected at both, which was great to see. I eulogized him and managed to get through it with the strength of the community in front of me and my 3 older siblings standing behind me. Afterwards his ashes were buried (a Catholic thing) with Military Funeral Honors, and we all ate some Santa Maria BBQ and drank Coors Light and Jameson. Lots of laughs, smiles, and friendly faces. It was a good day.





I'm tired and was pretty well drained by the end of the day Monday, but overall I'm good. I'm still having trouble getting more than 4 or 5 hours of sleep, but my mind is calm, and my heart is at peace. My family seems to be doing pretty well, and that makes things easier for me.

My hope is that after Saturday (memorial for my buddy who drank himself to death), I can get my daily routine back on the rails.

I'll be with my family again in a couple weeks to do the Walk to End Alzheimer's. $80 to go and I get in the Grand Champion tent again. Not sure if they do happy endings in Santa Maria, but will report back if y'all help me get there. act.alz.org/goto/mrdave
 

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