Stop My Mind...I Want To Get Off!

This is a chapter from Soul Parole: Making Peace with My Mind, GOD and Myself. It will be available at soulparole.com, AMAZON and on Kindle. Proceeds from the book will benefit Chicago Area addiction, mental health facilities and homeless shelters.

I have spoken openly about being Bi-Polar. Because of my condition, I can never turn my mind. Through therapy I have learned to slow it down. My thoughts only run at 100 miles per hour, instead of 500. My thoughts have no punctuation. The chapter takes place over 2 minutes.

This is a chapter about the night before I was to attend the funeral for a dear friend. If you need help with depression, reach out. You are not alone....

My Thoughts Are Racing And I Can't Catch Up To Them

You are about to enter my mind! If you are prone to motion sickness you might want to reconsider before boarding...

I've fallen asleep on the couch reading a book by Uta Hagen. I am just on the edge of consciousness because I rarely get "deep sleep," and when I do sleep I’m easily woken. The sound of a mouse fart will sit me up straight, wide eyed, and mind racing. Since the passing of my sweet friend Debbie on Christmas, my racing mind is kicking up the RPM's. There is no punctuation in my mind. There will be little here.

I shake from my delicate slumber as my lab is nudging my arm. He needs to go out. What time is it? Only 1:05? I'm not getting up until four! Damn dog!  "LA Woman, LA Woman!" You know he only wakes you when he really has to go! "LA Woman, LA Woman." She was only forty-three! Come on, guys, let’s go out! Why her? Make it quick boys! Come on! "Grace, stay out of the deep snow! They better not wake up my Squeaky. She's getting up in three hours. "Ridin, Ridin...." Hurry up, Grace! I wonder if she was in pain? Don't forget their treats. Am I afraid to die? "LA Woman, LA Woman." Grace needs a grooming. Quiet! Quiet! "I did a little dot about an hour ago..." What should I wear to the service? What should I wear when I've died? I wonder if a lot of people will come to my funeral? She was only forty-three! I'm forty-five! SHHHH, you guys go back to bed. "Ridin, Ridin...Ridin, Ridin.” I wonder if death hurts? I have to mail out submissions tomorrow. Grace, you have snow all over you! Cooter, you're a good girl! What was that feeling in my chest just now? A heart attack! I'm gonna die right here in the kitchen! "Which way the wind blows," Lord, don't let me die here! Not now! Grandpa was thirty-nine when he died of a grabber. I look just like him. Maybe I'll just wear a sweater and Dockers! "La Woman, LA Woman..." Check your pulse. Just put two fingers up to the side of your throat! No more treats! You guys are done for the night. God, I love you! "Ridin, Ridin..." I have got to get more sleep! My pulse seems normal! Wait, was that an irregular heartbeat? Man, I hate this cold weather! She was so cool. I think I'll be cremated. Those submissions should be sent to the agents by certified mail! "Ridin, Ridin." What if the kids die before me? If I do die, Lord, let it be quick! Squeaky is gonna be a mess! How will she get through it? The service starts at three o’clock. I will leave the house at two forty-five. "Well I did a little dot about an hour ago." I still have a couple hours to sleep. I better put an aspirin on the coffee table in case I do have a heart attack! Aspirin is supposed to help. I remember when we went to the banquet with her! "Ridin, Ridin...” I love her and miss her. I wonder if people will miss me? A sweater is cool! I need to pay my respects, not interview for a job! "Woooooooh." Now I think my heart is beating too slow! Check your neck again! "LA Woman, LA Woman. It's only 1:08. Go lay down guys. Grace, you are looking pudgy! I should put you guys on a diet! Maybe it's just her long hair? I think I'll be cremated in my Lennon shirt. No the Dylan! If I have a heart attack now, will I still be alive when my wife wakes? I'm going to take the aspirin now just in case. I gotta get up in a couple hours! "LA Woman, LA Woman..." It's still 1:08!

This is the End My Friend...J. Morrison...No It's Not. It is Just The Beginning

There is a very simple and central theme in recovery. Live today, the yesterdays are gone and tomorrow's not here yet. Matthew 6:34 says: "Be not anxious about tomorrow...sufficient for the day is it's own trouble." That is a paraphrase. The point is that we have only now, the moment we are in. God grants us today after today until he decides when the next today won't come. When someone dies who is old or sick it hurts but we have prepared ourselves for the loss. When someone young, vibrant and filled with life is taken, it sucks the air right out of you.

I wrote the chapter "Mom I Love You, Sister I love you, and You Love Me!" when I returned home from an amazingly, life changing day at my family's Christmas gathering last night. As I finished the posting and was checking into my Facebook account, a friend messaged me saying a mutual friend had died on Christmas morning. The elation of the day I savored with my family was replaced by sadness, emptiness and shock at the unexpected news.

My friend Debbie was very close to my age. We had much in common and I loved her. We never dated. She was friends with my wife and was a true girlfriend. That is a friend who just happened to be a girl. I called her Debbie Snack Cake because she was so tiny and so, so sweet. Height wise she came up to the middle of my chest, but she had giant written all over her.

She was going through the difficulties of coping with the death of her mother while my dad was deteriorating and physically moving toward the end himself. We shared our pain and funny stories about our parents and bonded over the agony of seeing them slip away. I attended her mother's memorial service and she was there at my dad's. We could just look at each other and see the pain and emotional exhaustion in each others eyes. Words did not have to be spoken.

Like me, she was slightly neurotic and a bit OCD but in a cute, lovable way. If she was a puppy, there is no doubt that she would be the one that you couldn't resist and wanted to take home that day. Quiet in nature she spoke openly rarely, but when she did it was always something you were glad you had a chance to hear. I am glad that I hugged her when I saw her a few days before the holiday. She was smiling ear to ear and hugged me tight, not a slap on the back but a "good ta see ya" hug.

I burnt lots of Doors music for her. She loved Jim Morrison, like I love Lennon and Dylan. Her license plate even read LA WMAN. Her favorite song by them was "The End." It is a haunting and deeply philosophical poem set to music. She bragged she had every version ever made. I believed her.

The thing I loved most about her was that she was always there to help a friend in need. She would put her life on hold to lift up complete strangers. She poured her heart out like liquid gold, holding nothing back for her own reserves. Even when she was crying inside she would smile and show the outside world that life is for living. I'll never know how God got such big balls on such a tiny person.

The joy I had returning from my sister's house was quickly replaced by shock and tear soaked reflection. I do have to disagree with Mr. Morrison that "This is the End." I believe death is just the turning of a page in a new chapter of existence called paradise. I live my life today trying to keep my relationships on solid ground. I understand all of us may only have today. Maybe our kids, or parents, or neighbors won't be there for the apology or clearing of the air we are planning for another day.

Never in a million years would I believe that the deep, love filled hug we shared a few days ago would be our last. It confirms even more that life is too short for petty disagreements and that long held grudges must be cast aside. I don't want the guilt of "I shoulda". When I walk out the door, leaving behind a friend or loved one, I try to do so on a good note or just not on a bad one. I do not let the sun go down on my anger. I know the sun shines and the rain falls on the good and the evil.

I have talked about Little Debbie Snack Cake in the past tense in this chapter. She may not be here to see, but she is in my heart. She taught me a lot in life and has shown me how fragile and short it can be. I will see her again in paradise, probably walking with her mom and Jim Morrison and she will hug me firmly as if to say "I love you and you're going to love this place!" Snack Cake I love you! See ya whenever.