Tag: mental health

Numbers

Underlying Issues Series By Matt Salis, MPS 6 Comments

Numbers

Audio version now available.

 

I went for a walk in socks and sandals.

 

I remember when I used to see old men in socks and sandals, and think how sad that was. How sad that they were oblivious to the unfashionableness of their choice of footwear.

 

It was an epiphany for me to realize that old men do know how unfashionable socks are with sandals. They just don’t give a shit what people think about them. Wow, I thought. They aren’t oblivious, they’re ambivalent. And ambivalence is a powerful indicator of self-actualization.

Hug, Act II

Underlying Issues Series By Matt Salis, MPS No Comments

Hugs, Act II

I like hugs. I am not very good at the bro dap half hug, half handshake thing. I always mess up the hand part. But I nail the hug. I have long since shed any stigmatized reluctance to hug other dudes. If I like you and I trust you, you will know it, because I will hug you. Big smile, verbal greeting at a volume too loud, arms open, comin’ in hot.

Red-Eye

Underlying Issues Series By Matt Salis, MPS 6 Comments

Red-Eye

* Underlying Issues Series

 

I forgot my earbuds, which was ironic since I spent 2 ½ hours on video calls on the day of departure about the dangers of the constant distractions of technology. We were taking the red-eye to Miami, so I needed to sleep rather than watch Insta reels anyway. My wife offered me lavender spray to put on my wrists to help me relax. We’ve been married 27 years, and she still loves me enough to waste her breath with that offer.

 

Our seats backed up to the bulkhead which cost us that glorious two inches of recline that might have facilitated sleep. I eventually emerged from my groggy, uncomfortable head bobbing and got pretty excited about watching a sunrise from 35k feet. After a cold-water sink splash and a Peet’s in the airport, the terror about losing a night of sleep gave way to something different with the plane from Miami over the shallow waters of the Caribbean in January. The transition was like whiplash without the neck brace.

 

I don’t know if what I felt was peacefulness, since I’m unfamiliar, so let’s use what feels like a watered-down descriptor like contentment. My feet were in the cool, off-white sand as I watched the Atlantic waves gently lap the shore. It was a few ambient degrees over 70 with a noticeable breeze, and the sun warmed my skin through a wispy cloud layer. I was keenly aware that any combination of a one-degree drop in temperature, a slightly stiffer wind, or a minor thickening of the clouds, and the glorious warmth would have turned uncomfortably chilly. I was on the razor’s edge of bliss, and the tenuousness of it all was not lost on me.

Puzzles, Picture Albums, and Board Games

Alcoholism, Family, Recovery By Matt Salis, MPS 10 Comments

Puzzles, Picture Albums, and Board Games

In the center of the living room sits a large wooden coffee table. On top of the table are thirteen finished puzzles and two puzzle boxes. Twelve of the puzzles are small – scenes of Christmas featuring Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the rest of the Peanuts gang. One is large and intricate – a cityscape of brownstone buildings decorated for Christmas. Under the coffee table is a stack of magazines that usually sit on the table, a board game, a collection of our family Christmas letters from years past shoved into plastic sleeves contained in a three-ring binder, two candy canes, and a picture album. There is another picture album on the side table next to the sofa.

Evolution Series: Distortion

Alcoholism, Evolution Series, Family, Marriage By Melanie 6 Comments

Distortion

After alcohol killed my husband, I looked through years of text messages from him, looking for clues. There was no mystery, and I’m not sure what I was trying to solve. Somehow, knowing the truth wasn’t enough. I compiled his messages to me – often repeated over and over again – in search of answers.

 

These are his words:

 

“I know that I am not what you want anymore. I know you are unhappy in our marriage. I know you are pulling away and preparing to leave me. I have never been enough for you. I know you are looking for someone new to replace me, if you have not already found him. You and the kids don’t want me around anyway. I’m best served to just stay quiet. It all seems so fragile sometimes. You guys were fine until me. Being quiet doesn’t work. Should I move further away?

 

“I will just work. That’s all I am good for.

I’m Afraid

Alcoholism, Fear, Recovery By Matt Salis, MPS 2 Comments

I'm Afraid

I’m afraid of losing what I’ve worked so hard to build. I’m afraid there won’t be enough…enough readers, enough listeners, enough participants, enough interest, enough connection, enough resonation, enough money.

 

My ability to sleep through the night, and the degree to which I am pleasant to be around during the day, both depend on how I am managing my fears. Just like addiction isn’t a yes or no question, but rather addiction exists on a continuum, my fear is on a spectrum as well. Sometimes my fear is in check, and I feel peaceful and content. Sometimes my fear is temporarily nonexistent, and I am joyful and exuberant. Other times, my fear is woven through my thoughts leading my mind to race with fixation and rumination. Occasionally, my fear is completely out-of-control and I am debilitated and consumed.

Independence that’s Worth the Fight

Alcoholism, Recovery By Matt Salis, MPS 6 Comments

Independence that's Worth the Fight

I remember when I thought it was enough to not be a racist. But then 2016 happened and Charlottesville and dog whistles and, “…stand back and stand by,” and the cockroaches all emerged from the sewers. That’s when I learned that racism is still quite a bit more of a problem than I naively thought, and it isn’t enough that I, myself, am not a racist. It isn’t enough that all lives matter. I learned to be anti-racist. I learned that while we have made vast, undeniable progress in the past 60 years, we have much further to go than I previously realized. I learned that it is not enough to not be the problem. I needed to be part of the solution.

 

That introductory paragraph is not meant to stir the political pot in an election year, although, let me be clear: If you are a white supremacist, or if you are concerned about the demographic certainty that white people will soon not be in the majority in the United States, you can fuck right off and unsubscribe from our blog and podcast (I hate ambiguity, don’t you?). Michael Jordan once famously explained that he doesn’t engage in political commentary because both Republicans and Democrats buy sneakers. I have no such business-motivated neutrality. My wife and I don’t get all authentic and vulnerable to help cockroaches.

Monday Mornings

Alcoholism, Recovery, Self-Esteem By Matt Salis, MPS 4 Comments

 

Monday Mornings

I didn’t hate my job. Not since I worked for an alcoholic landscaper one summer in high school have I ever hated my job. He was cranky in the mornings (hungover) and short tempered in the afternoons (drunk). He was OK at lunch, my one respite from hand weeding gardens at some big, corporate office complex. That job sucked. I was too much of a wimpy people pleaser to quit, so I pretended I had mono for a couple of weeks, then they just sort of forgot about me and got some other teenaged schlump to pull weeds and take the mild abuse.

 

As an adult, both before and after I crossed the invisible line into alcohol addiction, I really got into my jobs. I could see the path for career advancement and business growth, and I pursued goals with passion. I didn’t hate my jobs.

 

But I hated Monday mornings.

Evolution Series: The Cottage

Evolution Series, Family By Kelly 4 Comments

The Cottage

All alcoholism has underlying issues. Drinking often starts as joyful and social, but eventually, when we cross that invisible line into addiction, we are medicating something. Often, the thing we are medicating is adverse childhood experiences.

 

But childhood experiences can serve another purpose. They can ground us and give us strength. Memories of safety and family in childhood can remind us of the power of pure and unadulterated love. They can help explain how we became the adults we are today.

 

And when embroiled in the chaos of alcoholism – whether our own drinking or the addiction of someone we love – those innocent memories help us focus on the safety and connection we all deserve.

 

I’m proud to introduce these beautiful childhood memories from Kelly – a talented writer and dear, sweet friend. This recollection is not about alcoholism. It is an anchor to the simplicity of life that we humans unwittingly complicate. Can you remember the safety of your cottage?

 

***

 

For as long as I can remember, the cottage has been a part of my life.

 

For two weeks every August, my grandmother and aunt took my three siblings and me up to the cottage located halfway down the Keweenaw Peninsula, the northernmost section of Michigan’s U.P. Excitement made sleep a struggle the nights before leaving for the cottage.