Fear of My Hell

Fear is defined as; 'a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc.,whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid.'

I believe a lot of us, as human beings, the individual self, are living in fear. When we are by ourselves, we seem to feel fear more. Whether it is being home alone at night or walking down the street at night, the word 'alone' scares us. A lot of us fear we will die 'alone' or we will never find someone to love. I understand that. A lot of us fear death. A lot of us have phobias. A lot of us have bad thoughts. Loneliness is a feeling in itself, just as fear is. Loneliness is a true fear. A demon to some of us. A devil within. I don't know if hell exists, but I have a pretty good idea of what it might look like in my head.

I do not fear death anymore. I am not scared of dying. I saw death. We came face to face. It is not he I fear. Not sure yet if that is bad or good. I used to always think of it. What happens and how will I be remembered. Things like that. When we die, our heart stops, our organs stop, and eventually we decay. That's science. But feelings, I don't think there is a science to that. I think we can somehow pass our feelings on to others. Our physical form may be dead by definition, but who and what we are can continue to live on. Eckhart Tolle said, " You can only lose something you have, you cannot lose something that you are."

Someone used to ask me, "How much do you love me?". Very tough question to answer. What's the maximum someone can love someone else? Is there a quantifiable measuring unit available or is it yet to be invented? How can we measure our feelings? Who am I to tell someone how they feel or what they feel? Feelings are true. They say the heart does not lie. I question the "they" that said that, do you know what love is? Maybe some lonely person came up with the phrase. I used to say "I love you". I have said it to only a few people in my life. Very beautiful people. I meant it, in a literal way, I did. But in a feeling way, I am not sure. I have no idea, to be completely honest. How do I know what love is if I cannot even find love within myself? I have said it recently to someone, and I "felt" it for once. It's nice to feel.

So my greatest fear? It's not a feeling of love, or pain, or hurt, or happiness, or anger or depression or anxiety. That's a part of me now, I will make it mine. I will live with it. My greatest fear is my thoughts. They scare me. They sometimes deceive me. They tell me to lie, cheat, and steal (figuratively). They bring me to "my hell". My hell is about 6 inches wide, and is located between my two ears. That's my hell. That's my greatest fear. And the worst part is, I cannot run from it, hide from it, or pretend it isn't there. My hell is with me every single minute of the day. Every second I breathe, it is right there with me. That's my battle everyday. That's my fear. And it is hard for most to understand. But others who suffer, know exactly what I mean.

Yours Truly, 

T.J. Smith

Moving On

The support has been unbelievable. The messages of hope and concern, it's amazing. So many people from all over. Friends, family, and strangers all telling me I am strong and an inspiration. Of all the people, it is you I want the most to talk to me. On my roughest days, it is you that I want to tell me it will be OK. To wipe away the tears. To hold me. No one else. You make all the pain go away. You make it all better.

But you also cause the pain. How much can I take today? I don't know. I can't figure it out. I want to message you so bad. So bad. But it hurts. The cut isn't healed yet. It may never be. Every time my phone rings, I hope it is you. But it never is. You're not there. And I don't know why.

Saw a quote once. It said falling out of love is the toughest thing to do. I can't do it yet. I don't know how. Trying to erase the memories. Wanting to create new ones. A second chance. But you don't care. You say you do, but I can't comprehend it. You just don't know how much I love you. You don't care. It's so painful.

The worst pain? To love someone who doesn't love you. That's a tormenting pain. Mentally its painful. But when you actually feel your heart breaking into pieces, that's when you know it was real for you. I do. I feel it crumbling into tiny pieces. I am not sure how much is left. I don't know when it is going to stop. Or how to stop it. I thought the tears would dry up by now. They haven't. I cry as I write this. It's not easy.

Solution? Do I learn how to hate you? Will that make it easier for me? I don't like hate. That's not fun. I don't feel hate. I now feel love. There is no more hate in me. Pain is better than hate. You don't know me. You're scared. Don't be scared. Nothing to fear. I can handle pain.

I have accepted your decision. You don't love me romantically. That's fine. Someone will. You made me see my flaws. Push me to the edge to realize I was sick. I am not scared anymore. It hurts. I am jealous. I am honest. But I do respect your decision. We made a commitment together back in September 2011. That commitment is a wonderful young boy. He will have two Christmases. Two birthdays. Two families. That's how it is. Many others do it. So can we. I do love you and will always be there for you. If anyone ever hurts you, they will deal with me. I am a new, confident man. I am charming and I have charisma. I will make people smile and laugh. I will be successful at my career. I am better than before. You helped with that.

I feel the change. I do. Everything I do now. I feel it through my body. Coming out of this Mental Illness is important. What I do with my life is important. I know how to live. And I will be true. I will be straight. People will gravitate to me. I feel excitement. I am ready to love and share my life and have children. I am a wonderful father. I will be a father to some more kids. Whoever she may be, she will be the happiest girl ever. I am going to make all of her dreams come true. She will smile every morning. She will love me for me and take the good with the bad. I will stay by her side through sickness. I will wipe her tears. I am better man now. That's the power of love. You wouldn't hurt someone you love. I know that now.

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

The Gambling

To cope is to deal, or face problems. My problem? Depression. My coping? Gambling. Oh, and did I gamble. I never kept count, but if I had to guess, over the years, I blew a lot of money. Almost everything I earned. I never had a high paying job. If I had to make a guess, in the last ten years, I blew 50-75% of whatever I earned, or was given. Obviously, not proud of it, but I am coming to terms with my past. I am not afraid anymore. I used to hide behind VLTs. Hoping no one see me.

Now, I don't need anyone to judge me. I am my own toughest critic. And if you want to judge me, I don't care. I am not going to live a mistake free life. And if you are, please share. I am not ashamed, I am just telling my story. The scary fact is; if I didn't gamble, I would have found a way to kill myself. Gambling, in a twisted way, saved me. Since I am being transparent, this is my story. My coping. My addiction.

I gambled so much, I can tell you the payouts on any current VLT (Video Lottery Terminal) game in Nova Scotia on max bet. A line of Lions on Bungle in the Jungle on max is $250.00. If you are so lucky to hit the 2X multiplier, it's $500. Or a line of 7's on Royal Spins is $497.50. I always wondered why they didn't make it an even $500? I honestly don't know the names of all the games, but I know the sounds and the images. The thrill of winning made me feel good. The thrill of losing made me feel......good? Yes, the thrill of losing. After a bad night, I hated myself even more. I used to cry in solitude. I liked it because I felt something. Hiding from the world, of course. But a win. What a rush! I "felt" something.

In all honesty, it began when I was nineteen back home in Newfoundland. Three places in town had the "machines". The Royal Canadian Legion, Vinland Motel, and The Haven Inn. Actually, now I think of it, I was old enough for the Carson Lounge, and yes, they had "the tappers" too. It grew on me right from the beginning. At first, I wouldn't bet big. Small amounts. A nineteen year old doubling a $20.00 on a Friday seemed like he hit the Jackpot. I continued to play.

My last year of Junior A Hockey in Truro, NS, I was 20. Very good team and we had lots of fun. It was usual for us to go to Dooly's on a Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday night. We all got along. We had a lot of heavy drinkers. That year, we won the league title, and if there was a drinking title, we would have taken that too. Anyways, we go to Dooly's. We order up pitchers of beer. Well, TJ, he would find his way into a 4' x 12' room with complete strangers seeking the exact same thing- the thrill. Even though I was there with my teammates, some of my best friends to this day, all I wanted was to be left alone. Just me and the "whaps". When I win over a couple hundred, I would purposely rent the private room at Dooly's and buy three or four pitchers for the boys so they would leave me alone. "That's pretty sad TJ", I would say in my head. "I know, TJ", was the reply, I would say to myself.

That summer, I worked back home as a bartender at one of the local establishments. Great job. I did love it. I was training to go American International College (AIC) to play Division 1-NCAA hockey. Pretty elite level. So, how to stay away from all the parties and drinking? Work at a bar. Yeah, great idea. I will save money this way too, right? Nope. Not this dummy. I frequently would go gamble in the afternoons after going to the gym. Trying to hide our family vehicle behind the Vinland. No idea how much money I blew that summer, but it was bad. Very bad.

I felt comfortable around gamblers. We had something in common. Something to discuss. When you hit a good line and win some money, everyone is then your best friend. Or if you got into the "Bonus", a flock of people would come watch you. Not sure if they were hoping for me to win or lose. I didn't care. I didn't notice any of them. My perfect day, or night, on most occasions, having some money in my bank account, nowhere to be, and a beer. I wouldn't get drunk. The beer was a diversion. "Yeah, I just popped in for a beer", was my excuse. The worst part is when I would have to leave to go back home. I never wanted to leave. Not once. I was so lost in the "games", I wouldn't think about my Depression.

It got to the point where as soon as I walked into a new bar or pub, I seek out the VLT Room. I would always find it. Like a 6th sense for me. Like blood in the water for a shark. Couldn't stop. My heart would begin to speed up. I wouldn't be involved in any conversation with the people I was with. "Where'd TJ go?" was a common question. They all knew the answer. Nothing they could do. I was hooked. I remember one day back in 2012. In 30 minutes I lost $500 in a VLT in a pub in Bedford, NS. You figure after losing $200-300, I would switch machines or quit. No. I didn't. Sad really. Embarrassing, as well.

During my time in the hospital, I spoke with a gambling addictions counsellor. I told her candidly, it was my way to cope. I would go to a VLT and be lost in the lights, sounds, and colours. My own little world. No attention given to anything else. My heart racing, my mind calculating, and my eyes scanning the lines. Each push of the button was a new chance. If I was unsuccessful, no big deal. I just put another $20 bill in. It felt so good. It helped me deal with my demons and monsters in my head. Sitting in front of a VLT was like break from reality. It was fantasy for me. My escape from my own issues. I was just creating another. But anything was better than fighting my thoughts and feelings.

Looking back now, I started out using it as entertainment. It grew, like a flower, except it wasn't beautiful. I couldn't resist it. It got to the point where I would budget money to gamble before paying any bills. I dragged people down with me. It wasn't my intention. You just wanted to be with me.

Most people with a Mental Illness find a way to cope. The most common methods, alcohol, drugs, and gambling. I am not an alcoholic. Never used hard drugs. Does that make it OK to gamble? No. But in a bizarre way, it kept me alive. Broke, but alive. Heartless, but alive. Sad, but alive. I am not justifying it. And I am sure I will "play" them again or set foot into a casino. Even the gambling counselor said that. She didn't say gambling was OK, nor am I. It can be OK if played properly. I didn't play the VLTs. They played me. They played me hard. It got to the point where winning and losing felt the same.

I know I will be in front of one again. Some of you may see it. But before you judge me, or make a comment, understand I am no longer consumed with that rush. I know many people that play them. Not one thing wrong with it. To each his own. Do I have plans to gamble? No. But I am 29 year old male, I am sure I will be at a bar at some point again. Don't assume, "Well, there is TJ. He must be depressed again." I am learning from my mistakes. I am no longer stupid.

During my treatment, I have made a commitment to be a better person.  Coming to terms with my bad habits helps me. A lot of you will not recognize the person I will become. I am going to be a better son, brother, father, and at some point, the most loving husband in the world. In fact, I look forward to my wedding day. I already know who will be standing at my side as groomsmen. Before I never thought about my wedding. Now I look forward to that day. I have no idea who that lovely woman will be. I don't know your name, age, ethnicity, hair colour, or too much about you yet. You are out there somewhere. I already know how I am going to propose. Planned out, perfectly. Also, what I do know and promise you future Mrs. T.J. Smith, it will be your day. That I can promise. Anything you desire. You will be the most lovely bride in the world. You will have the perfect day. You will feel the love. You will smile and you will cry. You will tremble and you will feel the goosebumps. You will curse me once or twice, but you will be loved. You will be my world. I will make you the happiest girl in the world. I will grow old with you, and raise a family with you. You will be loved like none other. I will hold you close and whisper "I love you". I will die next to you. When all eyes will be on you, your eyes will be on me. We will hold hands. I will cry, questioning "why is this beautiful woman with me?". We will kiss. We will be one. My heart doesn't hide feelings anymore. I can't wait to love and give my heart to someone. When will that day come? Not certain. Not the slightest clue. I now know what love feels like though. I now want to share it. At least I am alive to make someone feel loved and feel like the most special girl alive because they stole my heart.

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

Dealing with Pain

Pain. I have a thirst for it. I am starting to accept it. It hurts, oh, it hurts. But I am becoming immune to it. I love the pain. It motivates me. I endure it because I can. I am not sure if pain is a feeling or a reaction. Whatever it is, I feel. So much, in fact, it buckles me to the fetal position. I lie there resembling an infant. Brought to my knees by thoughts that hurt me. 

Physical pain versus psychological pain. What is worst? Which pain is hurts more? For me, it is the psychological pain. It hurts so much. Pain from the inside out. I cannot describe it to others. I can't say it hurts like giving birth or stubbing a toe. Comprehension of the pain I feel is virtually impossible to identify with. That's why I accept the pain. I welcome it. It drives me. Motivation feels good. The potential of being motivated can reach incredible heights. Pain comes from all kinds of thoughts and feelings. I wrote about thoughts and feelings before. Since I cannot control them, I will harvest power and energy from them. I am recycling the pain. Pain, unlike death, stays with you. Death leaves no feeling. Pain? Pain maybe the greatest feeling I have. I know it is there. I cannot destroy and I am not sure if I want to. It's like a shot of adrenaline. It excites me. I used to pretend to not feel anything. Pain is my drug. I know there is going to be some 'painful' thoughts and 'feelings' during my battle. I am going to embrace that pain. Harness that pain and make it mine. I am going to control that pain. I will not quit, no matter how much it hurts. Pain is temporary according to some. I don't live with that luxury. I will have it forever. Pain is good for me. It makes me feel alive. I can handle the pain. If I could, I would take everyone's pain away from them because I can take it. I have seen the darkness of my thoughts and the depths of my feelings. I have seen the shadows it can cast. I know where I can go. I feel limitless. I know no boundaries. I thank pain for that. Out of pain will come a stronger man. I am done fighting the pain. I can't win that battle. Too hard. 

So since I cannot defeat it or rid of it, I will accept it. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. Pain makes me stronger. It's like the old phrase, "if you can't beat them, might as well join them." Pain, I am coming for you!