30 March 2015

World BiPolar Day 2015


Today, 30 March 2015, is “World BiPolar Day”, held on Vincent Van Gogh’s birthday because he is perhaps one of the most famous BiPolar people in contemporary history. Van Gogh was known for his madness yet exceptional artistic genius which is not uncommon among BiPolar people, his “Starry Night” is among one of the most famous (and favorite) of all artistic works. Van Gogh, sadly remembered for cutting his own ear off to give it to the woman he loved (supposedly she said he wasn’t listening, so he gave her an ear) but poor Vincent succumbed to his madness at a young age by his own hand. His paintings will inspire people for generations, his crazy antics may be remembered too, but he deserves to be honored with this very important day of awareness, “World BiPolar Day” because if it were not for this unique mental illness, the world would be a far less peaceful and beautiful world. How’s that, because of crazy people the world is safer and more beautiful? Yes, that’s what I said, think I’m crazy? You’re right, I’m pure 5150, but I’m also right.

There have been a lot of people throughout history who were known for being a bit “mad” or “eccentric”, but before the early 20th century, psychology was barely a science, let alone diagnosing any specific type of mental illness. Were people less crazy? No, of course not, people have always been crazy and some more than others, but it’s only in the last 100 years or so that we’ve documented and identified various components of the mental illness puzzle. BiPolar disorder, for example, was one of the first mental illness identified and it was simply called “manic/depression”. They didn’t know of different types of manic/depression, just the observation of the cycle of behavior. The patient would have periods of great energy, enthusiasm and very focused, precise thoughts; this was mania. Then, at some point, the patient would have an opposite disposition and be rather melancholy, morose and even suicidal; this was depression. The early attempts of treatment were barbaric by today’s standards but they included huge volts of electrical shocks to the brain and complete frontal lobotomies. Some people tried religion to have the demons exorcised and others just lived with it in silent suffering.


Over the years, as science grew more knowledgeable and better at identifying the symptoms of what was “manic/depression”, they came to realize that it isn’t always the combination of pure “mania” and pure “depression” but very distinctive feelings attached to these polar opposite feelings. For example, mania could easily become anger or rage; depression could easily become self harm or even homicidal. The diagnosis was re-classified as “BiPolar Disorder” with three distinctive types of this disorder; long term cycles (last over weeks/months, even years); short term cycling (happens in a day, an hour, a moment); and a third, mixed cycling process where the individual has both kinds of episodes at the same time. They have determined that there are some people who are more prone than others, typically if there’s a family history of mental illness but no definitive genetic link yet. They have determined that each person will experience this disorder in a different way, although some similarities exists, each person feels the illness different and so we react to it in our own unique ways. Likewise, with the advancement of pharmaceutical products, there has been some limited success in treating the mood swings directly and even more progress with medications to deal with the symptoms of the illness; however, like this disease itself, each person has a unique reaction or tolerance for various medications. What helps one person with BiPolar can make another person with the very same illness feel awful, so awful they commit suicide (because of the medication, not the disorder). The current mantra is that BiPolar cannot be cured, it’s a lifetime affliction which can only be managed. But that’s only science, they change their mind when there is enough evidence to suggest otherwise (as I think is the case with this disorder). Presently there is a lot of non-western techniques (meditation, yoga, exercise, diet, herbal remedies) which seem to be effective for many people and as a person who has been dealing with BiPolar since my teenage years, I still have high hope for finding a solid balance inside my mind, because, truth be known, I like being BiPolar, it’s like having a superpower!

But back to our most famous BiPolar Hero, Vincent Van Gogh, do you know why I admire him so much? Aside from the brilliant body of work he achieved, aside from the way he changed the world’s conception of art, what I admire the most about Van Gogh is the fact that during his lifetime, he only sold one painting (to a friend of his brother’s wife). That’s what I admire, he died penniless, friendless, despised and shunned by his community, but he kept on painting anyway. He painted quite madly, in fact, it was what he did, it was who he was…an artist, above all, he was an artist. I have always said to those who know me, those who ask me about my “Plan B” (I don’t believe in Plan B), when people throughout my life have said, “But d’Philip…what if this doesn’t work out? What if you don’t make it big? Then what are you going to do?”
          “Then, like Van Gogh, I’ll die penniless and alone.” I always say, “I am a writer, it’s who I am, it’s what I do!”

Vincent Van Gogh, however, is not the only very famous person with BiPolar, for example, did you know both Abraham Lincoln and Winston Churchill were also BiPolar? One of my favorite writers, Edgar Allen Poe was BiPolar as was Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemmingway, Sylvia Plath and Jack Kerouac. It’s true, as also was many of the legendary great musicians like Wolfgang Mozart, George Gershwin, Jimi Hendrix and John Lennon? But the most recognizable BiPolar Heroes are the many actors you know…for example Robert Downey Jr. (my personal favorite), Jim Carrey, Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Catherine Zeta-Jones, Carrie Fischer, Patty Duke, Jonathan Winters, Mel Gibson, Andy Kaufman and the late Robin Williams (who lost his life to BiPolar symptoms). There are two positive conclusions from this paragraph; the first is that BiPolar people can and do live normal, productive lives that can lead to great success and the second conclusion is that BiPolar people are EVRYWHERE around you. Yeah, it’s true…1 in 4 Americans suffers a form of chronic mental illness, so which one of your friends, co-workers, family members…or is it you…are BiPolar?



www.dphilipchalmers.net
Lastly, I want to share two other items on World BiPolar Day, both of them are blatant self-promotion, but I have an excuse; I’m BiPolar and I sometimes never shut up about something I’m proud of having done. Besides, I have contractual obligations to my publisher to promote this book so because it’s “World BiPolar Day” my publisher, The Intrepid Editor Press, is offering my latest book, “My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On…” for 50% OFF between now and midnight April Fool’s Day (that somehow makes sense). This LIMITED OFFER is available EXCLUSIVELY at my website, www.dphilipchalmers.net and I’ll be happy to autograph each copy personally addressed to you! The second offering, a new video presentation called “A Dialogue with d’Philip” is available for viewing on my YouTube channel, The BiPolar Reality Channel, or, if it’s easier, here’s a link:





As always, I am very Grateful your visit and comments, I humbly ask that you share this blog article today, it can be like doing your part to support “World BiPolar Day”, just keep re-sharing this article everywhere you can…G+, Twitter, LinkedIn, even Facebook (be careful, Zuckerberg hates me)! I do indeed hope all is well in your lives, please continue to take good care of yourself, be healthy and well, stay safe and smile, be kind and share Love when you can…until next week, my friends, Happy World BiPolar Day!















Peace,
d’Philip
30 March 2015
The San Joaquin Valley
Republic of California

Earth

23 March 2015

A Lifetime of Triggers


My therapy sessions went from 2 or 3 days a week to only once a week during the course of six months during the middle of 2009. They were a large part of my recovery during this period, they were the “hooks” that I was hanging the canvass of my recovery upon; the canvass being, of course, my life. I spent a lot of time outside of therapy thinking or working on the issues which had been discovered and discussed during the therapy sessions. My journals, which I now used almost all day long to record and reflect upon each and everything that happened every day, had become a vital tool in my recovery. I opened a new file each week, then every day I opened a new page for each day. I recorded the time, date, day, location and where in the apartment I was writing from and then started my day there; during the course of the day, typically every time I would switch tasks or have a cigarette, I took a few moments to make note of this in my journal. I write my journal in the first person and to myself, although I suspect one day when I am long gone and dead, one of my kids might stumble upon these files and read just how crazy their father was at that time! Another almost daily habit for me was posting and spending a lot of time making comments on that little blogging community I found. I typically stayed away from religious or political topics and a lot of those blogs posts were simply what I term “life updates” where I truthfully shared with these strangers on the Internet what I felt or how I was doing. These other blog site members soon became, in a very real way, my friends. In my real life experiences I still had a very difficult time connecting to other people in person. Even with family, except Kelly and the kids, I couldn’t find that heartfelt bond I needed from my friends. I did find that feeling, however, in this community of strangers who had become my only friends during that long slow year of 2009.

During the summer, I tried to go to all the various community sponsored events in Palatine. I went to the parades and farmer market events, I tagged along to see music in the park or volunteered with the local Rotary chapter for their Oktoberfest event. I still had a very hard time being in public, I kept it together when I was out, but when I got home again, I always caved and felt like I was broken. With the help of a medication Dr. Kahni had recently introduced, Ativan, I found it easier to manage my anxieties. I was now on a new medication cocktail which included Lamictal, a drug to treat mood disorders, Ativan to help with my anxiety symptoms and Ambien, a sleeping aid. Although I was responding to this combination of medications better, it was still not right and I was not having success in dealing with the side effects of the Lamictal. In particular, as Dr. Kahni introduced a slightly higher dose, it started to trigger my anxieties, I was feeling clumsy and unable to balance. My eyesight was blurry or difficult to adjust in bright lighting. 

One day, during my September monthly visit with Dr. Kahni, we discussed a new strategy for treating my disorders. “You understand, d’Philip, each patient reacts differently to medications…” Dr. Kahni, a soft spoken man in his 50’s of East Indian decent, explained in a calm, rational tone, “Likewise, each individual will manifest their disorders in different ways and deal with them in their own unique way, correct?”
“Yes, I understand that…” it was easy to talk with Dr. Kahni because I always felt like he was listening to me just as closely as I was listening to him, “That’s been my experience, at least.”
“Alright, well there is some recent research that suggests both BiPolar and Anxiety disorders are often triggered by some kind of life event, would you agree?” Dr. Kahni has this practice of lacing his fingers together to create something of a “hand bridge” which he would then open and close while he was speaking, “Therefore, if this is true, perhaps you might confirm for me, has this also been your experience?”
“Well…” I had to think about it, I started by remembering the most recent episodes, the one that got me to where I was now; was there a trigger of some kind? I couldn’t remember exactly, “It’s hard to say because I don’t remember a lot of the details of what was going on inside my head while I was having an episode.”
“Okay, I understand.”  The doctor opened his hand bridge, leaned forward and asked, “In your life, ever since you started showing symptoms of being BiPolar, going back as far as you can, were there traumatic life events?”
“Like my parents getting divorced?”  I was unsure but I had an idea of where the doctor was steering this discussion, “Or my best friend dying when we were only 17 years old or my hero being murdered when I was 19?  Things like that?”
“Yes, exactly!” Dr. Kahni separated his finger hand bridge and sort of made happy jazz hands and chuckled, “Now we’re onto something!  I am going to step you off the Lamictal and we’re going to try a different approach to treating your ailments.”
“Okay…” I listened as the doctor continued, “How do I do that?”
“I want you to start by breaking your pills in half and take only that, once a day for two weeks…” he started writing a new prescription as he continued explaining, “then, after 2 weeks, take the half pill only once every other day for a week and then just stop taking them all together.”
“Alright,” that made sense, “What about the Ativan and Ambien?”
“Leave that alone for now…” he finished writing out the script and ripped it from his pad and as he handed it to me, he explained, “This is a prescription for Zoloft, it is an anti-depressant medication, I want you to take it twice a day, in the morning and before bed, but not for 2 weeks, not until you are reducing your Lamictal to every other day, you understand?”
“Yes.” I glanced at the prescription, “How much Zoloft is this?”
“We’re going to start with 200mg. per day…” Dr. Kahni then made a note in my chart and asked, very casually, “What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m disabled, on disability.”  I shrugged, “I have a degree in media communication and marketing, but I don’t use it very well.”
“I will be sending some notes to share with John…” he was referring to my therapist, they all worked together there at ACMH, “When do you see him again?”       
“Next Monday…” we had a standing 11am appointment every Monday by this time, so it was easy to answer, “At 11 in the morning.”
“Alright, very good.”  The doctor closed my file, stood up and extended his friendly hand, “We’ll see you next month!”
“Thank you Dr. Kahni!”  I firmly shook his hand, “Have a great week!”

The weekend between my appointment with Dr. Kahni and my Monday morning session with John went quickly and I remember writing about my life a lot in my journal. I tried to find various “traumatic” events which might have triggered my disorder.  Eventually I made a chronological list of life events, simply as I perceived them, which I considered to be of major significance. I did this because I thought I’d need it for my next session when, in truth, it was something that just needed to be done.

·         Birth (12/7/1961)
·         Brother Born (1964)
·         Moved to California (1967)
·         Found out that dad cheats on mom (1969)
·         Parents Divorced (1970)
·         Lost Virginity (1974)
·         Met Best Friend Todd (1974)
·         Best Friend died (1979)
·         John Lennon killed (1980)
·         Met Rachel-moved to California (1981)
·         Valerie was born (1983)
·         Tried to Commit Suicide (1984)
·         Started first company (1984)
·         Rachel disappeared with Valerie (1985)
·         First Company failed (1987)
·         Met & Married Susan (1987)
·         Cassidy was born (1990)
·         Separated/Divorced Susan (1994)
·         Started Split/Apple-2nd business (1994)
·         Met & Married Kelly (1995)
·         Left Split/Apple-Julian was born (1996)
·         Nervous Breakdown #1 (1997)
·         Moved to Arkansas (1998)
·         Re-united with Valerie (1998)
·        Started 3rd company (2000)
·        Margaret was born (2000)
·         Valerie died (2001)
·        September 11th Event (2001)
·        Ken Kesey & George Harrison die (2001)
·         3rd company failed (2002)
·         Relocated back to Illinois (2002)
·         Nervous Breakdown #2 (2006)
·         Deemed as being “disabled” (2008)

I took this laundry list of life events to my session, I was keen to discuss the insights I thought I had but John had a different agenda. He had orders from Dr. Kahni to identify and assess my current symptoms, we had to focus on developing a Cognitive Behavioral Treatment plan. To do this, we started with a few tests, like on paper, John gave me homework to do and I had to complete it as soon as I could and drop it back to All Care office. John explained how Dr. Kahni will develop a different medication plan for me, one that will fit in with my CBT plan. I opened the folder of tests, they were intended to identify irrational thinking styles that contribute to problem solving skills. I continued to scan through these pages while John assured me, “The doctor has a lot of insight to this disorder and he really knows what he’s doing.”  John pulled out a legal pad and pen, “So let’s make a list of your present symptoms for starters and maybe, if we have enough time, we’ll take a look at your list too, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan.”  I nodded, “So what symptoms do I have?”
“Well, the obvious one is your depression, right?” John asked, “How are your anxiety levels?”
“Levels?” I half laughed, “There is no level, just constant high anxiety, I’m nervous all the time, even when I’m home alone, I feel anxiety.”
“Okay, there’s another one…” John wrote it down, “What else?”
“I still have social problems, communication problems.” I closed my eyes, “I don’t really feel comfortable leaving my abode, even though I hate it there, I never feel like getting out at all…”
“So, social anxieties?” John jotted it down, “Are you agoraphobic?”
“Maybe a little.” I shook my head, “I don’t know, maybe.”
“How about sleep, how’s your sleep been d’Philip?”
“I have trouble falling asleep unless I take Ambien…” then I added, “I always wake up after about 4 or 5 hours, however so I either pop another sleeping pill or, if it’s close to time to wake up anyway, I’ll just lay there, maybe watch the television.”
“What time do you go to bed?” John asked, “Are you on a regular schedule?”
“I guess, I mean…sometimes.”  I thought about it, “I guess between 10 and midnight, most nights.”
“What time you usually get up?” the interview continued, “Typically?”
“I have my alarm set for 5:17 every day.” I said proudly, “Most of the time I get up and stay up, but once in a while, on a Sunday maybe, I sleep until whenever.”
“How long is that?”
“I don’t know…” I shrugged, “I guess the longest I usually sleep is maybe 6 or so hours…I wake up a lot though, you know, every hour or so, I’ll sit up, roll over…maybe go to the bathroom.”
“Okay…” John made some notes and then asked a strange question, “Do you ever get up and do anything while you’re asleep?”

“Like sleep walking?” I asked, “Kelly tells me I eat while I sleep sometimes.”
“Really?” John jotted quickly, “Tell me about that…”
“I had a package of Oreos next to the bed…” I laughed, “I guess I was sleeping and I rolled over and started eating!”
“That could be dangerous.” John warned, “You could choke!”
“There was one time,” I continued to remember and recount, “I think it was about a month ago, but Kelly said I got up and cooked a burger, ate and then went back to sleep and I did not remember doing that all!”
“Okay, that’s interesting…” John took a few moments to write some detailed notes and as I sat there waiting I looked around the room at the various pieces of art John hung on his office walls. There was an old family shot, from the late 70’s or early 80’s and another photo of John hugging a pretty woman who I imagined was his wife. There were a couple of hand-made looking pieces of art and a diploma, a state certificate and an emergency exit plan next to the door. The room had fluorescent lights but John typically had them off and instead illuminated the room with a desk lamp and standing light next to a big green plant. It was a comfortable room, professional and yet relaxed, it showed a little of who John was and still, I felt comfortable in his conversant hands. He finished his notes, glanced at the clock and reiterated, “Okay, remember d’Philip, take these tests when you’re well rested. There’s no hurry, no time limit, but follow-up with it before our next session, okay?” John jotted another appointment reminder card for me, but it was our standing Monday morning 11am session, like always. He handed the card to me and smiled, “I think you should focus on your sleep schedule, limit your caffeine intake, try to get a solid six hours or more every day.”
“I can’t do that…” I laughed, “My caffeine intake, John, is one bottomless pot of Good Morning America from when I wake until dinner. I’ll even drink coffee after dinner on some nights, coffee is my elixir!”

“Okay, well maybe no more coffee after dinner for starters?” John smiled and again glanced at the clock, it was time to go, “I will be away the rest of this week, I’ll be in Colorado for a conference.”
“Lucky bastard!” I groaned, “So when will I see you again?”
“Next Monday, the 28th of September…” John jotted it on the card and handed it to me, I stuck it in my day book and John stood up to shake my hand, “Have a good week, remember to check in with the doctor and I’ll see you next week!”
“Okay, thanks John…” I smiled, “Enjoy Colorado!”
“Thank you, I will!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

www.dphilipchalmers.net
This excerpt from “My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On…” is from chapter 8 (“The Long Road Home to Me; The Recovery Process”) and takes place in 2009, just before I started to turn a big corner in my recovery process. At the time, however, I didn’t realize how close I was to making a “breakthrough” and, truthfully, I was still feeling frustrated by my lack of progress. I had made strides while working with this new medical team, but it had not even been a year yet, so I was not very patient. I was still taking an (un)healthy dose of mood stabilizer medications which, as I learned, were causing me to do strange things like getting up in the middle of the night to cook and eat an entire meal and not even remembering doing it…or feeding myself cookies while sound asleep. Strange, even dangerous things to be doing but I was not even aware of my doing it and that’s a really freaky feeling. The assignment, however, making a list of potential triggers in my life, was something which became a fulcrum by which the scales of change, from no progress to making good progress, tipped upon. Although we never technically used that list in my treatment process, I used it on my own to both gauge my life’s pivotal experiences and as a “hit list” of issues to deal with on my own.  

I personally would recommend this exercise to those who are struggling with sorting out all of life’s various issues that either prevent your healing progress or keep coming up in your therapeutic sessions. There are so many things that are a “big deal” which happens to EVERYBODY in life, a lot of people keeping tripping up on their past experiences and feelings. With people like me or you, perhaps because we’re more sensitive, but these issues can sometimes loom large and long in our lives. I cried over my best friend’s death or my hero’s murder over 20 years, I tripped and stumbled over myself because of either “daddy issues” or my own lack of self-confidence. I did this to me, nobody else, I was the one who held onto these matters, made them bigger or scarier than they really were and convinced myself they were the reasons why I was the way I was; it was a blame list, all the shit done to me that fucked me up.
But I was wrong, as I learned from continuing my therapies, these obstacles and unfortunate events, although some tragic and severely damaging, were NOT the cause of my problems. My problems were being caused by my own inability to over-come these hurdles that I created. I suspect there’s a lot about life that is like this, we are often our own worst enemies!

In conclusion, I think the general gist of this article is that if one were to list out all of the “most important” significant events in one’s life and then, one by one, deal with each matter, you’ll make progress in resolving a few of your own particular road blocks to success. Every day we are faced with stress, every year we encounter significant changes which can impact us, both positive and negative, but it’s all on us how we choose to deal with it; we can choose to be the victims of these events or we can choose to be a survivor. I was being a victim without even realizing it, but once I did, I found the strength, will and ability to turn these victimizing situations into opportunities to build me character, to gain some insights and, perhaps, get a little bit more wise about life’s events. Some of those items on my list, by the way, although I listed them more than 5 years ago, still haunt me and I struggle with keeping a grip on them…being labeled as “disabled” is still an issue, I don’t like that feeling and I work to demonstrate (to myself more than anyone else) that I can and do function in a productive and useful way every day. The murder of my daughter, that’s a scar which lasts a lifetime and a few times a year (around her birthday, holidays, her date of demise), I struggle with the tidal waves of powerful emotions…but that’s to be expected and besides, if I crossed off everything on my list, then what would I have to work on myself?

Lastly, in the here and now, life is going well. I managed to get through last week, I was having a big problem adjusting to a medication change which created many (uncontrolled) emotional issues for me. I was very irritable, then I couldn’t stop crying then I would fly into a ranting rage…crazy feelings that kept sweeping my feet from under me and knocking me on my ass all week! By the end of the week, after trying this medication for two weeks, I notified the doctor that I was going to stop taking it all together. He was disappointed, he encouraged me to try and ride it out, but I declined. The medication, designed originally for people with hypertension and heart problems, was having an awful effect on me. The doctor, who is new to me, disagreed…he fucking disagreed that I am feeling bad from the medications, but trying to argue with me is futile, especially if I know what I’m talking about, like for instance, my mind, body and the effect of various drugs I feel. I took my last dose of it last Wednesday, but truthfully, today (Monday) is the first day I’m actually feeling more like me again…that’s a very good thing because this week, for the next couple of months, I need to be the best version of me as possible.

I will be video recording a special interview to air next Monday, March 30th…aside from being Vincent Van Gogh’s 162nd birthday, it’s also “World BiPolar Day” so I am creating something special for that date. The months of April and May will find me deeply engaged in the book promotion tour, I’m still planning some final dates but it’s looking like two big events are going to be the annual “420 Festival” held in Golden Gate Park and May Day (5/1), with a concert event in San Jose…there’s a few other cool events I’ll be at too…Wavy Gravy’s Birthday Bash in May will be groovy and there’s a chance of an “Acid Test Class Reunion” event in the infamous Haight/Asbury area. I’m also looking for ANY GOOD OPPORTUNITY to come and talk about the book, the issue of mental health or legalization in California during these couple of months, so if you think of someplace, or something where I can talk to 10 or more people together, please let me know, cool? It’s getting half past the day already and I have several more tasks to accomplish before my siesta time, so I should address that stuff before too long. I am always very Grateful for your time in reading this, I adore it when you make a comments and if you’re willing to re-share this blog article…you fucking rock in my book!

As always…please take care, be well and stay safe!










Peace,
d’Philip
Monday 23 March 2015
The San Joaquin Valley
Republic of California

Earth

16 March 2015

A Big Rig Life

 
A Selfie at CDL school...March, 2003
In March of 2003 we moved out of the dumpy apartment with the intention of Kelly and the kids living with her father in Arlington Heights while I would go away for a six week truck driving school in Indiana. Once I completed the course, after I passed the CDL test (after 6 attempts), the school/company connected me with a Florida based trucking company. I removed myself from Kelly and family so I could simply focus on what I needed to do, build a truck driving career. I enjoy driving, I like going across country and I reasoned that we as a family could live almost anywhere, not just Chicago, if I was a truck driver.
The kids and me, the night before I left...
I was certified by the school/company, hired on the spot by the Florida trucking company representative and sent back to home with a sizable cash sign-on bonus.

On the second week of May, a brilliant and balmy Wednesday, I was picked up by a company trainer. I rode for 2-3 weeks to learn the ins
Kissing my wife good-bye...
and outs of how things work “out there on the road” and other company procedures. The guy was an absolute redneck hick, literally from Hazard County, Kentucky (the location of the television show, “The Dukes of Hazard”) named Jake. From the moment we met, Jake didn’t like me. Tearfully, I hugged the family in a group one last time before I climbed aboard the tall, powerful machine. As I leaned into the cab Jake flared his nostrils with a face of disdain, I knew it was my Patchouli body oil. He barely gave me a chance to say goodbye before he revved the mighty engine of his Freightliner and barked at me, “C’mon, get a move on, we ain’t got all day!”
“I’m coming…” I cheerfully called back but I had hardly shut the door when Jake pulled away from the curb. I leaned out the window to wave but Jake shifted gears roughly and I started falling out, I fell back into my seat and snorted, “Sorry about that…” I started to apologize as I reached for my safety belt, “This is the first time I’m heading out…”
“No shit…” he grumbled, “Get used to it.”
“Yeah, it’s tough…” I shrugged, “But a man’s got to do what a man’ got to do, right?”
“Whatever.”  He was short and curt, “We gotta pick up a load in someplace called Rockford and then we’re heading to Texas.”
“Texas?” I nodded, “I can dig Texas.”
At a truck stop in Utah, May, 2003...

Almost the entire three and a half weeks of my training, I was completely miserable with this dumb as shit redneck named Jake. He was a Bible thumping racists, sexists, completely clueless asshole. He was an awful driver, often breaking rules
Heading toward California, May 2003...
and laws I even knew were wrong. We crossed the country several times in the span of 10 days but when Memorial Day weekend came, Jake decided to go visit his family in Hazard County, Kentucky. He simply left me to live alone in the truck while it was parked at some out of the way, beaten path truck stop in the middle of the Eastern Kentucky hills. We got there on a Thursday afternoon and his fat, sloppy looking wife and their three screaming kids were waiting for him in their battered minivan. He didn’t even say good bye, only that he’d be back on Tuesday morning and that if I had any problems, to call the dispatch office, not him. I got out of the cab and decided to stretch my legs and take in the nature with a long walk down the lonely road.
A selfie, Memorial day in 2003, Kentucky
 I eventually came to a swimming hole and found a bunch of teenagers hanging out. I sat down to join them for a spell, telling them I was a writer working on a story about over the road truck drivers. They smoked me up with some local ditch weed, which worked well since I had been clean for weeks. I offered them $20 and they gave me a few more buds of the bright green home grown weed. I took the green stash back to the truck and savored over the next several days while waiting for Jake to come back. I spent a great deal of time writing and developing a new screenplay. In the morning, I went for long exploratory walks up and down the hills surrounding the truck stop. I occupied myself with the fresh air, green spring trees, the rolling hills, as well as a steady intake of marijuana, it seemed to help pass the time until Jake returned. It was the three best days of my training, when I was alone, not moving and just being a writer living the cab of a truck in the middle of the woods.
A selfie inside the cab, Memorial Day, 2003

Leaving Kentucky late on Tuesday afternoon, Jake was in a rank mood. The visit with his family was upsetting him and we were finally in agreement when he yelled, “I need to hit the road fast!”
“Where we going to next?” I asked as I looked at the map. We were heading South East towards Tennessee, “I’m ready
Sunrise in Tennesee, May 2003...
for the road too!”
“I do this for them, you know.” He sounded like he was confiding in me, opening up in a way he hadn’t before so I just listened, “I ain’t got but an 8th grade education, there ain’t no coal mine no more…I could do moonshine with my cousin but that ain’t right either.”
“Driving a truck is an honorable position.”  I assured him, “It’s tough, yeah, but it’s both an honest living and a vital function in our economy.”
“You a college boy?” he looked at me sideways with a grin, “You look like a college boy.”
“Yeah I did time in college.”  I chuckled, “Like prison, it was a drag.”
“You been to prison?”
“Not yet…” I lied, I didn’t want to tell the story of being locked up in Oregon for 3 days on a stolen vehicle charge, I shrugged, “So where we going?”
“North Carolina and then to Texas.”  He turned up his CB radio and started chatting with another trucker about traffic or some shit. I crawl off to the back of the rig to lay down. In between his conversation, as I was pulling the large plastic dividing curtain closed, Jake said, “Get some sleep college boy, you’re doing most of the driving from now on!”
“Right on.”  I smiled.  I had barely done any driving up to this point so having the wheel for a while was appealing, “Wake me when you need me.”


When Jake woke me several hours later, it was outside Rocky Mount, North Carolina, parked across from a Denny’s diner. I rolled off the top bunk and opened the heavy plastic curtain and Jake was outside, standing in front of the truck, taking a piss. I opened the door, leaped out to join and asked where we were and what we were doing. He explained we arrived at the pick-up station but the gates didn’t open for another four hours. I nodded and then, looking over at The Denny’s, I suggested we go inside for a bite to eat and some coffee. Jake seemed oddly surprised by my suggestion but he accepted the offer so we zipped up, locked up the truck and walked across the road to take a seat at the counter in America’s all night diner. I knew what I was going to have, the only thing I ever have whenever I am at a Denny’, I like their infamous “Moons Over My Hammy” sandwich platter with seasoned fries. 
Yummy...
I slide the menu to the side without opening it and Jake was again slightly surprised, “You know what you’re going to have?”
“Yep.” I smiled, “I like the Moons Over My Hammy breakfast sandwich.” 
“The hell is that?” he cocked an eyebrow and wore a silly Kentucky grin, “Sounds like a fag meal!”
“It’s good.”  I went into detailed description of the toasted bread, the fluffy scrambled eggs, the thick slices of ham and, of course, the cheese, “It’s awesome, you should have one too!”
“I think I will!” he put his menu down as the middle aged waitress approached us and I made the order for the both of us. We both also ordered cokes and coffee, Jake added a dessert of ice cream too. Once she left, he turned to me and explained the game plan, “We’re going to pick up this load right when the gates open and then head along I-10 west to Texas, we drop it in Fort Worth tomorrow.  You drive the first 8 hours and then I’ll take us into Fort Worth.”
A Big Rig Life...and I'm the driver!
“Okay, sounds like a plan.” The waitress brought our drinks over and I asked, “You just gonna crash when we leave?”
“Yeah, it’s all on you, buddy!” Jake seemed more human to me, less redneck as we continued talking about life on the open the road. I told him about my Grateful Dead days, following the band across the country and that took us into a discussion about music.  Jake liked his country music, hated rock and roll music of any kind, but then when I told him I had some Johnny Cash CDs, he smiled big as our food arrived, “I love me some Folsom Prison!”
Johnny Cash, one of my favs!
“I have that show...” I nodded, “I'll put it on when we leave. But first, my friend, doesn't this meal look awesome?”
“Yep, it sure do!” Jake took a big bite of his sandwich and smiled as he chewed in silence. We ate our food, got several refills of coffee and once we finished with the food, we continued talking.
Before we knew it was half past four and almost time for our pick up.  We made friends that night, we somehow connected over food and music we found common ground, we saw each other differently.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Available Now!
This excerpt from “My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On…” is from the fifth chapter, “Koyaaniqatsi; A Midlife Presentation” and takes place about 18 months before my psychotic break, while I was very ill but not being treated at all. I decided to share this part of the story, however, because the character of this red-neck truck driver trainer named Jake from Kentucky, is a personality very different than my own. I didn’t like the guy at all when I first met him, I wanted to like him but he was so racist, so very narrow minded and pretty thick headed, I couldn’t like him at all. The feeling was mutual too, I was an college educated Yankee with long hair and beard, about as alien as it got in Hazard County Kentucky! When Jake left me for the weekend, while I was alone and getting stoned, I somehow changed my mind about this guy enough so that when he came back, I saw him in a different light. I saw him as this simple guy just trying to put food on the table for his family. He wasn’t the antithesis of things I don’t like, but rather a victim of the environment he was raised among. His daddy was a drunk after they closed the coal mines and his granddaddy was a boot-legger during prohibition. His wife was his only sweetheart, he had never left Hazard County or Kentucky before taking this job as a truck driver, so he was as much out of his element as I was and that, with the help of some food and music, helped bridge the gap between us, helped me to see Jake in a better light.

I Googled "Redneck Jake" and got this image!


The mutual respect and admiration didn’t last long, as you’ll read if you buy the book, but that’s not the point. The point is, no matter how very different one person thinks they are from another, in nearly every situation the two opposing people probably have more in common than not, they are more alike than different and they both share the bounty and burden of Life. Not always, I know, there are some people who one might imagine you’d never get along with, not in a million years because they believe in every single thing that you don’t and they would never respect your beliefs either…we all know, we all have somebody like this in our lives. It’s natural, every yin has a yang, the day has it’s night and it’s likely polar opposite people are strangely drawn together at times. It’s okay, it’s natural, but is it healthy? I think it’s a problem, here’s why; Pretend, for a moment that you and your polar opposite individual are trapped under a fallen building destroyed in a storm…then ask yourself, what does it matter if you agree or disagree, if they are a racists or they are a Jew, when you’re trapped in a catastrophic situation, you both need each other to survive.
At the core, inside all, we each have the will to live. That alone is reason enough for me to work on appreciating, respecting, tolerating and forgiving everyone who gets me pissed off because of their negative, intolerant, ignorance or whatever; at the core, we all the will to live and this alone binds us to each other for the better.


As much as I tried to stay focused and get a lot accomplished last week, it was again a difficult task getting from Monday to Saturday. That’s Life, sometimes, but along the way this week I made the mistake of lashing out at some people. My family, in particular my wife, felt my bristling and cranky moods when I spoke with sarcastic and mocking tones. I didn’t mean to do that, I was under so much pressure, dealing with things beyond my direct control and my feelings come out sideways at whoever is near me. My wife was with me a lot this week, I feel worse about being that way with her than anyone else this past week, she simply deserves better that I provided this week. That’s Love, sometimes, but along the way we did kiss and make-up, which is always fun and I feel so blessed by her compassionate understanding and it both fortifies our relationship and fills me with a confidence of being truly loved for who I am, no matter who I am. I was rude and snide with a few other people too, mostly strangers that I’ll never meet on-line or random people who cross my path in my daily encounters. I tried to rip into one guy, on-line, who was spewing his “Christian Values” with a nasty dose of hateful damnation towards anyone…of any religion…who didn’t agree with him. I can’t shut-up sometimes, when I see/read these kind of ignorant, narrow minded, intolerant comments made by people. Sometimes I see it like a bully beat-up on some kid, I step into protect the victim but in all that anger and rage, when dealing with foolish trolls, is like sticking my hand into the fire to grab a log that I intend on bonking the idiot with, but in the end, I’m the one who has a burned, hurting hand. Futile anger is not healthy. I did, the next day, make an on-line apology to the guy, I was indeed sincere too so I “+’d” him, but he didn’t respond. That’s alright, I know I did right by my own virtues, so I rest easy.
I was rude to this homeless guy that lives someplace around our neighborhood too, but I didn’t feel as bad about that encounter. I was on my early morning stroll and the homeless guy was rummaging through somebody’s trash can looking for whatever…food, tools, something useful…but as he did, he was tossing all kinds of paper and crap all over the street. I was nice at first and simply said, “When you’re done, could you please pick up the crap on the street?” and the guy growled at me with a nasty snarl and told me to fuck off! I went off on the guy, I started beating him up with cruel words and he escalated the encounter with wild, rage and incoherent ranting…much like me, but not on his medication. That’s when I stopped arguing, I saw myself in this homeless guy’s rage and I felt small. I stopped yelling and continued walking. Later, when I walked back past the trash can, a lady in a yellow robe was picking up the trash on the street. I felt bad and went to help her, she thanked me. I felt better and again remembered, anger burns the self first, so keep cool, man, keep cool!

This week ahead is my last week of hanging around The San Joaquin Valley for a while, I’ll be preoccupied with getting things ready for myself. Next weekend we’re going to Monterey for an interview of me about the book and being a father with mental illness. The interview is part of a documentary in production about people who have over-come the obstacles of mental illness. The next weekend after that I’ll be engaged in a live stream on World BiPolar Day (March 30, Vincent Van Gogh’s birthday) from Yosemite National Park in California.  The first week of April and continuing into May, Mental Health Awareness Month, I’ll be fully engaged on tour to promote the book. This does sound a bit exciting and fun, but in truth, for me, it’s scary and a hellish feat to accomplish. Aside from the book, this tour has been in the planning since last April (2014) and there’s a great deal involved with making it happen that depends on me and my ability to “perform” when it comes time for me to do my bit and talk about this shit that I wrote. In June, however, I’ll be able to not only rest, but my commitment to promoting this book so hard will end! Unless, of course, it catches fire nationally and Oprah names it for her book club, then I imagine I’ll still be busy with “My BiPolar Reality…” but I look forward to the dawning of summer this year!

Sonora is in The Gold Rush Territory...
Aside from relocating from The San Joaquin towards the mountains around Sonora, I’ll have the ultimate luxury of having nothing to do but write another book. I am really getting excited about this too, I couldn’t help but start drafting an outline, begin the research process and organize my notes. The next book is another non-fiction work about spirituality, mental wellness and music and we expect to publish it in August of 2016, so if I sit down to actually start writing by June 1st, I’ll be done by this time next year…but you know, what Lennon said…Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans…so who knows, not me, what will happen in three months, six months, a year? That’s one of the most enjoyable parts of life for me, if anyone understands “Man plans, God laughs!” it’s me but I like a good joke. It’s great when my plans come together exactly as I planned, but it’s far more spectacular, meaningful and positive when I accomplish something despite my plans going awry, I find great reward in those moments. Even when nothing goes according to plan, it failed and I feel like I lost again, it’s not so important because I had a hell of a good time playing the game. Win or lose, life is a game every day, every year…it’s not about the prize or glory, although it’s nice…it’s for the Love of The Game that is Life’s Great Treasure and Wealth.

The area near Sonora we're looking at...


I digress, I ramble, I apologize but sincerely appreciate your time and attention…I hope with the article I’ve been able to both trigger you to think about something, feel something positive and if I did, I can only humbly ask you show your support and purchase my latest book “My BiPolar Reality; How Life Goes On…” wherever you shop for books or at my website, www.dphilipchalmers.net (you get it autographed and free stuff when you buy directly from me)! I’d say something about seeing you on-line this week, but if next week is anything like the last two, there’s little chance I’ll be able to say much. I am trying to make arrangements for a Google Hangout sometime soon, if I can get it organized I do hope you’ll accept my invitation when it comes…but until then, again, I am most Grateful!

Take care, be well and stay safe!

Peace,
d’Philip
Monday 16 March 2015
The San Joaquin Valley, Republic of California

Earth