Hello My Name is Jason

I thought it best to start by sharing a bit about myself. I won’t delve into every detail, but I’ll give you a brief overview, perhaps painting a self-portrait of sorts. Hello, my name is Jason, and I welcome you all to dive into the ocean of my moments! Loss, Faith, and Sobriety: Within a year and six days, I experienced the loss of my father, my best friend, and my mother in that exact order. Seven months after my father’s passing and just three months after losing my best friend, I endured a nervous breakdown on New Year’s Day 2022. It hit me like a freight train, and I had even foreboded something bad happening in the new year. On May 1st, my mother informed me that she had tested positive for Covid-19. That day, I sensed things were going to take a dark turn. It was eerily similar to the way my best friend, Terry, had died of Covid-19 eight months prior. I felt trapped in a real-life Groundhog Day, like time was standing still. When my mother was admitted to the ICU, the same doctor who had cared for my father during his final days walked into her room. This blurred my emotional clarity even further. During this period, I struggled to find anxiety support and resources that could assist me. This just scratches the surface of my grief; there’s much more to my personal mental health journey that I’ll discuss in future posts. Amidst all of this, I was also committed to maintaining my sobriety. At the time of my father’s death, I had been sober from alcohol for three years. Yes, my name is Jason, and I am an alcoholic. Most people don’t know this about me because I’ve become adept at leading a double life. This complexity added an extra layer of challenge to my battle with addiction, a topic I’ll explore further in future posts. I also work in the medical field, and Covid-19 drastically altered our professional landscape. I vividly remember the early days when patients in the ICU lay on their stomachs, connected to ventilators, fighting for survival. They were alone, unable to communicate or have family by their side. It was a profoundly sad situation, compounded by the government’s rules that prevented families from being with their dying loved ones. This took a heavy toll on the mental health of healthcare workers worldwide, and anxiety support and resources were scarce during that period due to the fear of being around others. Despite the presence of many people trying to help me, I felt deeply isolated and alone. As an only child, after my mother’s death, I was left to navigate everything by myself, without siblings to share the burden. I felt like an orphan overnight, my mind clouded with dark thoughts. Although my wife and daughter were with me, it wasn’t the same. I also had my cousin Stacy, who is like a sister to me. Our fathers are brothers, and we grew up together. At the age of 42, I had already lost both of my parents, both in their 60s. My mother had never experienced losing both of her parents, as her mother and sister were still alive at the time of this writing. I was with my mother’s father when he passed away. I witnessed everything up close at the age of 12. I watched as the doctor tried to revive my grandfather with a defibrillator, with my mother performing CPR. My mother was a nurse. When we reached the emergency room, I had to go get my mother and tell her that her father was downstairs and in critical condition. He had turned blue before we arrived at the ER. I couldn’t bring myself to tell my grandmother while she was driving us to the ER in a hurry. She would ask me how he was doing and if he was breathing, and I always replied that he was breathing. But he wasn’t. It was a lot for a 12-year-old to go through, and this event is forever tied to July 3rd, making it a challenging time during the July 4th holiday. Whenever something bad happens, the memory of losing my grandfather resurfaces, rent-free, in my mind. It affects my emotional intelligence. I look forward to sharing the story behind the title of this website, “Rent-Free-Living.” When Stacy’s daughter died in a tragic car accident, it brought back memories of the day I lost my grandfather. I had only been sober for seven days when Alyssa was killed, and I still don’t know how I managed to stay sober. I do know that it was thanks to God, my Higher Power.   The night I thought I was having a heart attack at the age of 29 also brought back memories of my grandfather because that’s how he died. The doctors said I exhibited every symptom of a heart attack, but fortunately, there was no permanent damage to my heart. My ejection fraction measured at 23%, significantly below the normal rate of above 60%. At 29, I learned that I had chronic systolic heart failure, also known as congestive heart failure. As I mentioned earlier, I’m only briefly touching on several different experiences I’ve faced. The list is not exhaustive. I hope that thousands of people can relate to and benefit from our mental health blog. I hope it raises greater awareness for mental health education. Today, on July 1st, 2023, I’m still here. I’ve survived many challenges, including watching my wife almost die on three separate occasions and witnessing her battle with an eating disorder. Every day, I fight to remain sober and work to restore my faith, a process that deserves its own story. Despite my faith being severely tested over the past couple of years, I know that God has been with me. He has held me up and provided comfort in ways I can’t fully comprehend. I understand that He is always there for us, but I’ve faced struggles in rebuilding my faith. I’m a work in progress. When it comes to my recovery program, there are daily practices I’m advised to follow. Praying each morning to a God who has taken both of my parents, my best friend, a co-worker, another friend, and my niece (Stacy’s daughter) within a 5-year timeframe has been challenging. Not many people from the church checked in on me, apart from two individuals whom I consider brothers. I call them brothers because our bond extends beyond church walls. We’ve become close friends, and I trust them both with my life. It’s amusing that both of their names are Carey. Aside from these friends, there wasn’t much support to help me rebuild my faith. I did approach the Minister at church, explaining my struggles and seeking help. They prayed for me at that moment, but unfortunately, nothing more came of it. When it came to tasks like teaching adult Bible class, leading songs, offering opening and closing prayers, or serving at the Lord’s Table, everyone else seemed content, but I was not. Finding Hope and Healing I never received the help and guidance I should have received from a Church. All I got was, “Can you do this and that?” I had a thousand different things racing through my head. So, yes, my faith isn’t where it should be, but if the jobs are getting done at church, everything should be okay. That is the vibe I have had for two years now. I fully intend to be honest in all my writings as I want to continue to build resilience against anxiety. I am going to tell it like I see it in my head. This is part of how I am coping with anxiety. If I tell these stories, others in this world will realize that they aren’t alone in their battles. Maybe someone battling racing thoughts will see that they aren’t alone. Maybe somebody will find mental health tips and advice that they can use. That guy with a loaded 9mm pistol in his mouth will realize that they aren’t alone and will put their gun down. Yes, that was me one day as well. I have tasted the end of a 9mm pistol. I believe with all my heart today that if my best friend Terry had not called me at that exact moment, I wouldn’t be here typing this today. Terry is the friend I lost to Covid. If you are reading this and are currently having thoughts about harming yourself, please seek help immediately. Calling 988 would be a good start. You can’t do it on your own. It is okay to ask a licensed professional for help. I routinely see a counselor now. She has helped me so much. You can contact us on our website if you just want to chat with someone who has experienced some of these issues, but we will remind you that we aren’t licensed to provide any mental health guidance. We will simply tell you our stories and what we have learned. Welcome to Rent-Free-Living, where we choose who or what lives in our heads.