The job

For 21 years I worked at inpatient psychiatric hospitals. The business of inpatient psychiatric care went through many changes during those years. I could write a lot about what is wrong with the state of inpatient treatment. I could write a lot about why I decided to change jobs. It is sufficient to say that I just needed a change.

Now I work at a mental health clinic. My particular job is to meet with people walking in asking for help. It is my task to evaluate their problem and make recommendations for help. Sometimes people need referred, sometimes they need to see a psychiatrist, and sometimes they need ongoing counseling. I usually try to see them for counseling until the doctor can see them or until there issue is under control.

I love the variety. I see all kinds of people with all sorts of problems. This is a refreshing change from what I was doing. I feel much more fulfilled, I am making more money, and like the last place I worked, I enjoy my coworkers.

A lot of people do not like themselves. Their childhoods were lousy, their parents were abusive or absent, and their hope, purpose, meaning, and joy of life is nonexistent. My job is to infuse hope. I try to show them that things can change drastically if they would just let go of some beliefs and grasp some other ones. What is good about many problems is that they are self-inflicted. The good thing about that is, if your thinking and choices made the mess, then they can clean it up.

A lot of people are in unfulfilling relationships and feel there is no way out. Others do not have the confidence to take a risk for change, yet they live in a perpetual hell.

My heart often goes out to these folks. As they tell their story I feel saddened that their life is such a drudgery and disappointment. God intended for us to be happy and fulfilled. Sometimes, I get to be a part of turning someone around. I help them to believe, to hope, to try, and to expect success. I help them laugh and let go of anger and bitterness.

I have always treasured connecting with people. It could be a glance, a handshake, a comment that lets one know you are together on something. In counseling it is more like the other acknowledging that you understand them and they are relieved because you do. They trust you and try your suggestion. You keep them in mind and share in the joy of their successes. You also go back to the drawing board with them to tweak the plan that did not work.

I am happy and fulfilled. To do what I do is a great responsibility, but an even greater privilege and blessing.

Until the next time
John Strain

The last post title was too ambitious

Routine and habit, once established are tough nuts to crack. I have been struggling to regain my mojo for a while. Unfortunately, when you battle yourself, you wind up getting your ass kicked either way.

If I can keep writing the next few days, I will address a few personal issues.

On Writing: I know I have told this story before. It is of the time I was browsing the self-help section of a book store. Barbara and I routinely went to the French Quarter on Sunday afternoons to find treasures of books and CD's. We rarely returned empty handed. At the time, I was about 30. Up to that point in my life, I had done little more than go to school. Sure I had worked and had gained some experience about how the world works and how people are, but I was still in student mode. Learning never stops if you have an open mind, but at some point, you have to get out of the classroom and put all of that knowledge to work.

Sooooo, there I was browsing the section. I was so familiar with the books, and the writer's points of view, nothing was moving me. Sometimes in life thoughts are so vivid and clear that they stand out. The thought I had was, "You don't need to be reading these books anymore; you need to be writing one of them." I can't swear to the exact wording, but the general message was that I needed to make a shift.

I got right on it. I created a blog 15 years later.

OK the last line was for comedic affect.

I did write, but mostly bits of prose, a few pages about something on my mind, or a poem of some kind.

I lived. Working, raising a son.

Then in July of 2003, I began writing almost daily on this blog. I was killing three birds with one blog. I wanted to leave a record. Maybe someday my son would want more details about his father. I wanted to better understand how web design and HTML worked, and I learned some of that. Then the last thing, I wanted to discipline myself to write. As they say, "Writers write."

Writing is a discipline. You have to allocate time to it. I did not always just sit down and whip out a post, though a writing professor might think so. Many a day my burning question was, "What can I blog about today?" Maintaining a blog must be what it is like running a newspaper or a column. Before I started the blog, I wrote things and polished them up for a few weeks until I left them alone. Blog posts do not afford that luxury. You have to give a topic or a thought your best effort in the time you have and leave it at that.

For awhile, I wrote my post at night. In the morning, I would read over it making a few edits, and then posting. Life, responsibilities, priorities, and the limits of self-discipline did not always allow this, so many posts were quickly written snapshots of my mind and mood at the time.

During Hurricane Katrina, the blog took on another function. I was a reporter. I was a link to people trying to find out about property and loved ones. I wanted to share the experience as it affected me. It amazed me that all of a sudden I could be an important link to the outside world. I felt the responsibility and I also felt privileged for the opportunity.

I am not trying to say that my blog was any great source of news or anything people paid that much attention too during the storm. I am saying that my efforts were as if they were, but I did it out of a sense of duty. I could do it so I did do it.

So what happened? Why did the posts grind to a halt on March 8th 2008?

Like eating right, exercising, reading your Bible, and brushing the dog weekly, I didn't want to stop writing, but I suppose I allowed other things to push it out. The good thing about stopping things you really want to do is guilt. Guilt grows like a bubble until it pops. I am not sure my guilt bubble popped or not, but I am writing a post right now. The point is, life feels a little out of whack until you do the things you feel are important and do them consistently.

In September 2007, I changed jobs. I am very happy at the new job. However, I am required to be there earlier than the other job. I have less time in the morning to run, water plants, write, and other things I did before. I am a morning person. By the afternoon, I have a lot less drive. To illustrate this point, note the absence of posts since September 2007.

Perhaps even more than that, I needed some time to refill. I think I wrote myself out. It was becoming a chore more than a passion. There is a time to read and a time to write. Now that I have had a break from writing and maintaining this blog, it is time to get back at it. I thought I was there in March, but that was obviously wishful thinking.

I never once thought about stopping. I am a writer and I will write, though there may be breaks and gaps.

Now, I need to catch you up with things. My job, Bear, my running, and the family. I have a few thoughts about the election and the price of oil. There is all kinds of things to write about. Let's see if I can get back in there.

Until the next time
John Strain

The return of ambition

I feel like I lost a week. I have had either a bad cold or the flu. It hit me hard and fast. Last Sunday was my birthday and I celebrated it lying flat on my back feeling sorry for myself. Poor me. I went to work half a day on Monday then spent the other half of the day in the doctor's office. He gave me a steroid shot that seemed a miracle, but in one day it wore off and I was miserable again.

As colds do, they release their grip slowly. Each day I was miserable, but less than the day before. I was very congested in the chest and coughed incessantly. I felt "out of it" and my joints felt weak and rubbery.

All of that is in the past now. Today, I feel like my old self and tonight is the birthday celebration I didn’t have last week. We are going to Zea's Restuarant. That means I will eat half a rack of dry ribs, with sides of dirty rice and roasted corn grits. Ummmmmmmm.

Today is pretty cool, but spring is half way here. The azaleas are blooming, things are beginning to green, and all of a sudden, birds are everywhere. I noticed the birds about two weeks ago. One morning on my way to get the paper, the bird songs were much louder. It was amazing. I don't think I have ever noticed such a contrast. Either I was unaware of that moment in previous springs or this year it was more sudden.

It is good to have ambition again. I am not cut out to be a patient. Lying around feeling bad is not my way of fun. I doubt that anyone else looks at it as fun either. I am happy, grateful, thankful, and glad to be feeling better. Now I can get on with it. Whatever "it" is.

Have a great weekend folks and I hope your bout with the flu is behind you or you pass it like a ship in the night.

Until the next time
John Strain

Depression

This is a little video I made about depression. The text is right off of a National Institute of Mental Health Brochure. The first part is the information and the next two parts showcase some more famous persons who have struggled with depression. The entire video is 21 minutes.

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 of 3

Part 3 of 3

Until the next time
John Strain

25 years of marriage

Today is my 25th wedding anniversary. It went quick. A testament to Barbara's patience. I made a little video to commemorate the occasion.

Friday and Saturday, we will celebrate in New Orleans. It will be fun because New Orleans is where we dated. Some of our favorite places no longer exist, but then again, many still do.

Until the next time
John Strain