Christmas Eve 2016

It is somewhat a surprise that I actually survived the last year. It’s exactly a year ago when everything came unravelled in what I thought was my life. It was the beginning of the end which turned out to be the creation of my revolution. You have to hit the lowest of the lows to really know what you’re capable of as a human being.

I though my world was crashing down on me. It started slow, like a first time rider on a roller-coaster. The anticipation of the climb to the top of the incline, I knew something was coming- but wasn’t sure what or how it was going to affect me.

You cannot prepare for it. It is impossible. You can try. Put in an effort, but still doesn’t prep you for the darkest holes we can reach. Sorry, reach is the wrong word. Reach is something you gain, like reaching the mountain top. You dig holes. That’s what I did. I dug a fucking huge hole. In that hole, there was no one but me and it was dark. Very dark. Light did not, and could not exist.

It is hard to explain without me sounding responsible. I 100% blame myself for what happened in my life. I am affected/was influenced by an illness that I have to fight each day. I am accountable for not getting help earlier in my life. Probably, as far back as my late teens. That is something I cannot control nor dwell upon. Rather, something I must accept and motivate others who suffer in silence to get the help. Breaking my silence was one of the most difficult, if not, the most difficult decisions of my life.

I have accepted that I was a bad partner. I have accepted that I disappointed my family. I have accepted that I was not the best friend possible. I have accepted that I may have wasted many years of my life by not getting help.

I cannot make up for the lost time. I cannot rectify mistakes I may have made. I cannot apologize enough to the people in my life that I may have been mean or disrespectful to. I will never be able to pay back people that have stood by me to ensure my safety. It’s humbling.

I thank you all.

Last Christmas was blurry. I remember only some parts- the bad parts. The holidays can trigger a lot of emotions, feelings, and thoughts. That’s why I came home to Newfoundland for Christmas. Yeah, it was very difficult being away from my son during the holidays, but I also felt it was very important for me to do what I thought and felt was best for my health, so I could be around for my son’s Christmas next year.

I still cry when I think of last year. I never cried so much as I did during the holidays of 2015. To the point where I couldn’t breathe. I had enough. I couldn’t hide it anymore. I couldn’t contain it. It was a complete mental and emotional breakdown. Ten years or so of negative feelings and thoughts came out of me through the tears in my eyes. To be honest, I needed that to happen or I wouldn’t be here today.

I still remember the first day of 2016. I was parked at the gas station near Halifax Airport. I was picking up one of my players. I found out earlier that day, my ex had moved on. That led to me believing I wouldn’t see my son again. It led to a lot of negative thinking. In hindsight, it was an opening for me to finally reach for help. I cried and cried on the phone. The tears slithered down my face like a snake. I didn’t know it was conceivable that someone could excrete so much liquid through their eyes. I thought I wouldn’t see another day. I thought my life was over. I thought of every negative thing possible. I wouldn’t wish that feeling on my worst enemy. No one deserves to feel that pain; only me. I deserved it.

It was only a few days later that I thought about hooking a hose up to the vehicle, pulling in the garage, revving the engine, and hushing the pain. End the torture. The suffering was almost over. 

Almost.

The end of my story would have read like this, “Hockey coach found dead in garage in team vehicle after an apparent suicide.”

But some lucky person didn’t get to write that. My parents didn’t have to read it. My friends and family didn’t have to read it. My son didn’t have to read it. My players didn’t have to read it. No one had to read it. 

If I killed myself, people would have questioned, "Why would he do that? He has a lot of good things in his life." People would have never known the truth because I never spoke of the truth of my illness to anyone. They would have never known of my mental illness. If I killed myself, there would be more people that would have no idea or insight on what Depression is. That is why i made a commitment to me, and others to help. 

People ask me what stopped me. I reflect back and I believe that answer is ‘hope’.

No clue what I was hoping for, but something inside of me said, “Not tonight, T.J.”

It felt like one voice versus a million. The odds were against me, but I had a chance because I had a breath left in me. That is all it takes. The hope of one little breath, one little voice. That was the commencement of my change. The inauguration of my new life.

Some may question me, “Why are you reflecting back on this T.J.?”

Simple answer, really. It allows me to show people how far I have come. But it also reminds me of how far I have come. It symbolizes hope. Quite honestly, I didn’t think I would make it to Christmas 2016. And now, here I am, 50+ blog posts later. Hundreds of messages from people from all over Canada telling me I have helped them or a family member. People have even told me I have saved their life. That is amazingly impactful to me and my fight. It has been a humbling experience, and I look forward to continuing to help people. Trust me, it is possible to fight this illness. I am walking proof.

Not only did I make it here, I have reached other milestones as well.

Saw my son turn four.

Saw my son play hockey for the first time.

Helped others get help or be there for them when they needed someone.

Met so many new and inspiring people.

Mend and renewed my relationship with my parents and sister.

Got a tattoo that symbolizes me. (Never thought I get one)

257 days of sobriety. No alcohol since April 2016.

16 days of suicide-free thoughts.

It is safe to say this holiday is a little more positive than last years'.

"The first step towards change is awareness. The second step is acceptance."

                                                                     -Nathaniel Branden

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith

Stepping Outside of Myself- December 5, 2016

I have said this before, "I do not like the reflection in the mirror."

I am trying to change my view on that, but for now, that's how it is.

But I have come across another way of looking at myself; getting outside of my body and soul and mind and looking at me as another person.

What do I see? Where to begin?

Physically, I see a tall man, that isn't overweight, but has somewhat of an athletic built. I see a guy that has a lost and emotionless face. Never focused on something. Always wandering with his eyes trying to find some answers around him. A man that hardly smiles and takes a lot to crack a smile. He is not a hateful son of a bitch, rather a man searching for something, but he has no idea what he is looking for. Hard to find something when you have no idea what you're looking for.

When I look at this man, you can't see what is inside of him. There is no way of telling what is on his mind. He looks to have something to say, but can't seem to find the words. He looks tired.Always. Never rested. Miserable could be a word to use to describe him. This young man I see looks like he is pissed off and saddened by life. Yeah, he is definitely lost.

He looks confused and unsure of anything. He is full of secrets or something. I can definitely see there is something on his mind. He looks healthy. I mean he is 6'2, 200 lbs. He is a young man. Looks fit. So he must be healthy.

I notice his hands. No wedding ring, so I can make the assumption that he is single, gay, or maybe has a girlfriend. I have to cover all the bases. His fingernails are depleted. Especially three of them. There is nothing there. Chewed down to the finger. I am not a psychologist, but that must mean something. Bad or good, it explains something.

He walks methodically. Slowly, he gets along. Step after step, he moves quietly.

He isn't confident looking. He looks sad and unsure. What can be wrong with him?

The only place where he looks happy is at the hockey rink. Out on the ice, moving around gracefully and helping younger hockey players. I see some genuine smiles from him. It is like a whole new person. Once he walks through the doors of a hockey rink, he transforms into something magical. He interacts with people flawlessly and effortlessly. Whether it is teaching them something or sharing a joke or smile, he is definitely at his best. It is evident to see he is at peace in this environment and loves what he is doing. This is his happy place. It is his sanctuary. He sure looks like he has some joy from this.

That is what I saw a few weeks ago.

Now what do I see?

Something that I have not seen in a long time. Maybe ever. He looks more confident in his life. I guess more hopeful is the proper term. Sign of progress. A sign of life.

He still has a shyness to him. Won't speak first unless he is spoken to. There is improvement. A sign of life.

He still moves slowly. I guess that is not a bad thing. Maybe he is taking it all in. Everything around him, he is observing without judgement and just taking life as it comes. A sign of life.

Smile? Yeah. He is starting to crack a few. He wouldn't fake a smile anymore, so that must be real. Joy. He is finding joy in the little things in life. He is getting wise. A sign of life.

I notice he says thank you a lot. Therefore, I can assume he is grateful. Expressing gratitude more has definitely changed his life. A sign of life.

The way his face and eyes lighten up when his son is around is amazing. Another part of his life where the joy and goodness is coming back. If it isn't coming back, he is developing it. It is never too late to make changes to you life. It is too late when you're dead. A sign of life.

Back into my body.

How did this change, or transformation occur?

Was it all the doctors, nurses, mental health workers, friends, family, strangers, medications, etc.?

Absolutely. They are all critical to my well-being. But there is something that is a prequel to them all. I have meditated and searched for the answer. It comes down to one word in my mind.

Hope.

I didn't quit because I had hope. I seek help because I didn't want to give up. It was just one ounce of strength I had left. When the rest of my body was telling me to quit and give up and kill yourself, there was still one little ounce of hope.

Without hope there is no beginning to getting better. When it is 3:37 a.m. and everyone in your life is sound asleep, you are only left with hope.

I was literally minutes from poisoning myself and ending the torture and suffering. Something stopped me. There is no doubt in my mind it was hope. The hope to live another day. The hope to fight this illness. Hope that I will see my son again. Hope I will see my family again. Hope to skate down the ice again. Hope to have one more breath. Hope not to quit and die.

I am not sure if hope can be quantified. Even the smallest amount of hope can change your life. It can save your life. 'Glimmer of hope' is an expression. I am still alive because that is exactly what I had; a 'glimmer of hope'. I am walking proof that there may be millions of excuses to quit, but you only need the tiniest amount of hope to save your life.

"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."
                                          -Martin Luther King, Jr.

Yours Truly,

T.J. Smith