"Everything is all right."

I am currently reading the book "Hallucinations" by Oliver Sacks. I came upon a passage that I thought was emotional and it moved me. I would like to share it.

Ray P. wrote to me after his father died at the age of eighty five, following a heart operation. Although Ray had rushed to the hospital, his father had already lapsed into a coma. An hour before his father died, Ray whispered to him: 'Dad, it's Ray. I'll take care of mom. Don't worry, everything is going to be alright.' A few nights later, Ray wrote, he was awakened by an apparition:

'I awoke in the night. I did not feel groggy or disoriented and my thoughts and vision were clear. I saw someone sitting on the corner of my bed. It was my Dad, wearing his khaki slacks and tan polo shirt. I was lucid enough to wonder initially if this could be a dream but I was certainly awake. He was opaque, not ethereal in any way, the nighttime Baltimore light pollution in the window behind him did not show through.He sat there for a moment and then said "Everything is all right."'

A Stack of Christmas Cards

Sometimes, we come upon realizations from the most unexpected places. For me, one such place was the table in my apartment. I received Christmas cards recently and they are on top of the kitchen table in a messy stack.  It's not too much of a stretch to state that for most people, greeting cards bring joy and remind them of the people who care about them. This is the "normal" reaction someone should have in such a situation. My reaction? Well, I guess that's where my realization occurred.

For those who have not read my blog, part of my day job involves searching through the last known residences of lonely deceased individuals who passed away in Los Angeles County. One of my responsibilities is to try to locate living relatives for these folks. One of the main strategies I use when searching through a residence is to find greeting cards and personal letters from family and friends. I then read the cards and check the return addresses for clues on where potential family might reside. Why am I describing all this? Well, this is important context for what I experienced when I looked at the stack of Christmas cards on my table.

What did I think when I looked at those cards? Did I think of the people who sent them to me? Did I think of the importance of family and friends and staying connected? Did I think of all the positive and wonderful feelings associated with the holidays? No, unfortunately I didn't. The very first (and vivid) thought that came to mind was my own death and what would someone in my position do if they were searching through my apartment. Would they go straight to the cards and find return addresses? If they know how to do their job, they most likely would.

Sometimes, we aren't strong enough to handle the emotional burden of a situation. I thought I could handle this job, but I don't think I can. I believe it's time to admit that the presence of these morbid thoughts in mundane situations isn't normal and I need to find a new position as soon as possible so I don't have to deal with such feelings any longer (or as often). I wouldn't have come upon this realization (or at least as soon as I did) if I hadn't looked at those Christmas cards and paid attention to my thoughts.

Being reminded of death every day is tedious. It's tiring. Thinking about the lives of lonely and wretched deceased individuals makes me tired. So. Fucking. Tired. At this point in my life, I am enough of a grownup to admit that something is too much for me to handle. Perhaps, "maturity is knowing what your limitations are" (Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle) and accepting them.

I am too afraid to share these thoughts with friends and family. I will just have to write them here for now.

What do we learn at the bottom of the pit?

I descended into dark places recently and it has been one of the scariest experiences in my life thus far. As difficult as it is to write some of this, I would like to share it because I might possibly help someone else who is going through something painful and they see no way out.  I want to show them that there is a way out and there is a proper way of handling a terrifying situation.

Ultimately, I do not know how I managed to descend this far but I imagine it started with the initial panic attack which happened recently (about two weeks ago). After that particular incident, I was optimistic and every day I was feeling better and better. Then, I realized that I was not through the ordeal just yet and there was more to come. For those who don't know, a panic attack involves symptoms such as an increased heart rate, a sense of doom and dread, severe anxiety, a fight or flight response, and other symptoms. One key symptom that is very difficult to describe is what's called a "detached sense of reality." Imagine you know exactly where you are and what time it is and other details about your immediate environment and your life. However, something... something doesn't feel quite right. You feel as if you are outside your own body and you aren't a unified whole. You are a collection of parts.  There is a lack of continuity from one instance to the next.  This is the symptom I started to experience throughout the day and it started to cause immense anxiety because I was unable to be properly immersed in my environment and with the people in it. I also started to sleep only 2-3 hours a night instead of my usual 7-8 hours. Additionally, I could barely eat. The insomnia and hunger made the situation that much worse.

Unfortunately, these feelings took a turn for the worse. I started experiencing even darker thoughts and I was unable to experience any joy or happiness. The usual activities and things that would make me happy completely failed to make a difference. For instance, I was unable to smile or laugh at a picture of a puppy tumbling down the stairs.  In the past, I would have the widest grin on my face at such a sight. I was barely able to force a smile in the mornings when greeting a coworker. During conversations, people would be concerned and ask what was wrong. I was able to communicate and function and I looked relatively fine on the surface but underneath I was in a dark place and I was unable to connect with the world around me. I was unable to experience positive emotions or extract any joy out of situations that would usually make me happy.  Perhaps the most terrifying part during all this was the incredibly strong and disturbing illusion that these feelings were never going to go away and I was going to be forced to live such a detached and joyless life forever. Logic, my ever-comforting source of solace, kept failing me. I felt absolutely hopeless and was fighting a losing battle against my own mind. Once these fatalistic and catastrophic feelings started to take hold, I was on my way to the lowest point possible and started experiencing thoughts of death and suicide.  I was unable to stop thoughts such as "there is no joy, what's the point of living?" and "why are you even alive?" Perhaps the most paralyzing thought of all was "why don't you kill yourself?" It hurts me to even write these out but I can't deny that these thoughts haunted me.

Thankfully, I was never in any real danger and there was no real risk of me acting on these thoughts but since I had never had such ideas in my life, I was in a state of complete shock, mental paralysis, and defeat. I had absolutely no idea what to do. I had never experienced anything this dark and morbid. During one of the lowest points, I ran down the stairs while at work and I called the suicide help hotline to have someone, anyone, to hear me and tell me it's alright. The act of actually conveying these thoughts out loud to someone and being able to cry provided a deep sense of relief. This is when I realized I needed help and I could not take on this battle alone. I started to reach out to friends and coworkers. I am grateful that each and every one of them came through and talked to me and supported me. I am not religious but I feel blessed to have caring people in my life. This is when I learned my greatest lesson that I hope others will take to heart as well. During your darkest times, you cannot get out on your own. You need friends. You need family. You need someone to talk to. If you feel isolated and have absolutely no one, call a hotline or any other free service. The simple act of connecting with another human being, even a stranger, during such a vulnerable time is absolutely therapeutic even if you don't immediately realize or feel the effects. Your mind is a dangerous animal and it can make you believe that the situation is not going to get better and you will be stuck in pain forever. During these dark times, you will lose your ability to defend against such catastrophic thoughts and logic will very likely fail you and it will feel like your mind is divided and fighting against itself in some kind of internal mental civil war. You need allies. Sharing the dark thoughts and not feeling like you're alone in fighting them is absolutely essential. Do not take on the struggle alone and do not feel that you are "weak" for needing help. All of us need help at one point or another and that's absolutely ok. This is the other lesson I learned from this experience. It's alright to be vulnerable and let your heart out and allow people to be there for you. Often times, you are doing them a favor by allowing them to support you. You are not being a burden. It feels good to help someone in need, especially someone in immense need.

I would like to end on a positive note and with some words of wisdom. Treat your brain and your mind like you would treat any other muscle. If you lift too many weights or jog for too many miles, your body can fail you and you need a break. If you break an arm, you need a cast and other kinds of treatments to fix the issue. Your mind can suffer the same way. The way it gets "hurt" and pushed to exhaustion is through stress. Do NOT underestimate the effects of stressful events. If you deal with several major disappointments in a short period of time, this is most likely going to have some kind of effect on your mind and it's going to manifest itself in various ways after you surpass a certain tolerance level of mental threshold. What's essential to note here is that you will not consciously be aware of when this threshold is actually surpassed. For me, it seemed to show itself in the form of a panic attack and through the emotions and feelings I described above. For you, it might be other symptoms. Each person is affected by different events and to varying degrees and often times we aren't even aware of what can actually hurt us significantly. Don't think you are "above" being hurt by what you think is a minor setback. Logically, something might seem insignificant on the surface, but your mind and subconscious thought processes could still have a strong reaction.

At the end of it all, when nothing seems to help and everything seems hopeless, never forget that the people in your life can help and allow you to start climbing from the pit you fell in. All of us need help sometimes. Let them be there for you. A loving and long hug from your mother or your friend can mean a world of difference. Whatever you ultimately decide to do, never EVER isolate yourself and keep your feelings to yourself. You are not alone and you should not allow yourself to feel alone.

"Where are you calling from again?"

People often ask me how my job has affected me. They tell me things such as “That must be depressing… what you do. Is it?” and “You must have become really cynical and jaded.” I’ve never had a clear and detailed answer for them and my reply has consisted of aimless thoughts. Perhaps if I write my thoughts down, I can gain some clarity.

During the past year, I have been working at the Los Angeles County Public Administrator’s office. My job consists of researching the remaining assets of deceased individuals who often have no known family. I am also tasked with locating any family they might still have. My work involves searching through houses, apartments, storage facilities, basements, safe deposit boxes, vehicles, and numerous other locations where the deceased person might have lived or frequented. I try to attain clues that can lead to evidence of financial assets or remaining family. Often time this involves looking for financial paperwork, Wills, Trusts, pictures, diaries, letters and holiday cards from loved ones, and address and phone books. Eerily enough, checking the deceased person’s voicemail can lead to finding family as well.  The residences I go into often times qualify as ideal candidates for the show “Hoarders.” They are generally full of trash, animal feces (and sometimes animal corpses), human feces (either on the floor or in buckets), pornography, and a plethora of other items that a horror movie set designer could potentially use to try to make a location look as creepy and disgusting as possible. In one memorable instance, I recall an extensive collection of dolls with only their heads remaining. The same individual also had pictures of naked men and he had cut out their heads and pasted animal heads in their place.

My work also involves interviewing friends, acquaintances, business associates, landlords, and anyone else who might have information on remaining family. Often times, these individuals comment on how lonely and estranged the person was. A common theme is that the deceased individual never seemed to mention any specific details on his remaining family.  When I finally do get in contact with family, their reactions to the news of the individual’s passing can vary tremendously. They can either be indifferent and not be concerned at all or they can be in tears and barely be able to speak. Sometimes, they are enraged that I even dared contact them because the deceased individual either wronged them immensely or physically (or sexually) abused them.  I recall a case where the individual claimed she was tortured by the deceased individual.  Perhaps the most depressing instances involve boyfriends and girlfriends who were with the deceased individual for over a decade or more and they show not a hint of emotion or sadness in their voice when speaking to me.

On the financial front, I am in contact with banks, government agencies, investment firms, retirement homes, attorneys, retirement and pension departments, and any other organization that would have information on remaining assets. These organizations are suspicious of my questions and rarely assist us without a proper explanation of California law and the fact that they are required to follow it and cooperate with our office. Additionally, they have no idea where I am calling from and have a hard time believing that such a government agency even exists.

So where does this all lead? How have these situations affected me? Even after being immersed in these matters for over a year, I am unable to understand how I’ve changed. I would like to think that I have learned the value of genuine friendships and how important it is to forge meaningful and long-lasting bonds with other people. But at the same time, I have realized how rare such friendships are. I mention this because I see firsthand what happens when someone neglects their friends and family. They end up dying alone and rotting in their own juices for sometimes weeks at a time until someone finally discovers them as a result of the stench of decomposing flesh. I have also gotten tired of dealing with death and focusing on the past. I now know more than ever that I would like to devote myself to helping the living, whether in regards to aiding people or helping protect our natural environment (or ideally both). It has also become tedious to care about money and material possessions since in my own life I generally don’t care for such things outside of the bare necessities and very few luxuries (i.e. a kindle and a camera). My job requires me to care about such things and track down every last remaining asset. I’ve also become disillusioned from seeing undeserving awful people inheriting assets that they will squander. I’ve become frustrated that the remaining money does not get distributed to worthy charities and causes and instead, it eventually gets absorbed by the State Treasury or is given to a long lost family member who is discovered at a later time.

With that said, I am still thankful for the experiences I’ve had so far. I have learned to manage high levels of stress and work on numerous issues simultaneously without panicking or getting lost.  I’ve learned to be persistent and keep searching until I hit a complete dead end and there are no further clues to follow. Such perseverance is useful in nearly all aspects of life, both personal and professional. I’ve learned how to break down, condense, and convey information in the smallest amount of space possible while focusing only on the most important and relevant points. And finally, I’ve learned that even if I dislike a particular job, I am still able to not lose focus and take care of my responsibilities as a competent professional.  Like with most experiences in life, I will take the good with the bad and make sure the negatives are not wasted and are instead used as lessons for the future.

This post turned into a diary entry looks like. My thoughts were once again generally aimless. I guess this issue isn’t prone to being straightforward and clear. Oh well. That’s alright.