bipolar

HAIKAST XVII – Mental Health at Work

After 7 years, I walked away from my longest held job on Valentine’s Day 2023.

I started at COSCO in January 2016 as a temporary worker. COSCO, whose name is a sort of acronym for Columbus Specialty Company, began in Columbus, IN over 80 years ago. To be clear, I do not work at Costco, the popular club store started on the west coast, known for being a slightly elevated version of Sam’s Club.

If you know COSCO, it is likely as a manufacturer of folding tables and chairs or, more recently, as the creator of a very impressive hand truck that you can buy at …. Wait for it…. Costco!

So how did I, a proud Indiana University alum from the Kelley School of Business MBA program, start out as a temporary employee?

In the summer of 2007, I started my first year in the MBA program as a married man with 2 kids, 5 years of banking management under my belt, a homeowner, and a leader of the youth group at my church. I received a scholarship and can still remember reading in my acceptance speech that I was prepared to manage my priorities of “family, church, and school” with an emphasis on that order. 

By the end of the first semester, I had spent most of the 4 months in an insomniac stupor, fueled by uncontrollable anxiety, resulting in a debilitating suicidal depression. The unexpected fall into the nadir of my life included spending Thanksgiving break at the Mental Health Unit of our local hospital, separating from my wife, moving into my parents’ house, taking a leave of absence from the MBA program, and nearly losing my faith.  I was divorced 9 short months after the first day of class. 

It was an absolute tragedy.

By the time I started at COSCO, 8 years had passed.

During that intervening period, I had some significant accomplishments – writing a book about a major flood disaster in my hometown called “Watershed: Service in the Wake of Disaster,” marrying the beautiful Jennifer Anne Johnston, remaining a loving and engaged father of my 2 children, finishing the MBA degree through the IU evening program, and joining a church where I met a great group of new friends.

What did not happen during those 8 years was a significant stride in career growth. I held down a full time job as a care partner at the hospital for 3.5 years, a year stint as an assistant manager at Walmart, a 3 year full time contract job as a grant writer at a local youth serving organization, and a 1 year temp job at Cummins in their HR department. I had yet to earn a salary that exceeded what I earned at the bank before I started as an MBA student.

The stress of not keeping up with my friend’s career trajectories, not living up to the potential after being a straight A student throughout my life, and failing to make progress after completing my MBA were all crushing to my self esteem. 

I had two more stress unit visits during this time and lived long stretches with severe depression.

… And then I started as a temp worker at COSCO, helping out as a part time Administrative Assistant, committed to finding a way to be optimistic and gain full time employment.  A few months later, I was offered a full time job and over the years had multiple promotions until ascending to the Marketing Manager of the furniture department in 2022. Who could resist the new “Trusted Solutions” marketing slogan of the COSCO tables and chairs!?

Something else had happened over those seven years with the company – I rekindled my professional self-esteem, found a deep passion for environmental work in the community, and started a weekly mental health recovery group at my church.

I became a member of The Stability Network, a national organization with a vision for “People experiencing mental health challenges to thrive in supportive workplaces and communities.” To join, I needed to publicly recognize my mental health diagnosis on their website, attend mental health advocacy training, and be willing to share my mental health diagnosis in the workplace. I attended retreats in New York City and San Francisco with members of The Stability Network to learn how to effectively share my mental health journey in a way that demonstrated how mental health struggles and professional success can coexist. 

When I came back from the second training, I was only about 1 year into my job at COSCO. I decided to disclose my mental health diagnosis with my manager, Brennan Eckelman. My prior experience revealing to a manager that I had a diagnosis was to alert them that I needed time off for an in-patient hospital stay due to major depression. This time was very different. I was healthy. After scheduling a meeting with Brennan, I rehearsed my talking points with a member of The Stability Network. 

Vulnerability – the uneasy feeling that most of us do not like to experience at work – was essentially what I was walking into, instead of away from, when I stepped into Brennan’s office. After a few minutes of casual conversation, I broke from the regular agenda to ask if we could talk about a personal topic. “Of course!” she replied, with her usual positive energy. 

I referenced my trip to San Francisco and then jumped into the reason why I was there. I told her that The Stability Network encouraged me to share my mental health diagnosis at work and I felt most comfortable starting with her. I emphasized that my mental health was stable. She replied with the utmost respect for my disclosure and with gratitude that I trusted her to keep the information confidential. We talked for about 30 minutes on the topic and I felt her support throughout the conversation.

Light through her window
Difficult topic discussed
Coworkers- now friends

Sharing the challenges of mental illness is not easy, especially in the workplace. However, doing so is one of the best ways to reduce stigma in our society. My time with Brennan was a turning point for me – I no longer needed to hide behind a professional veneer that neglected a significant part of my life story. This experience helped me develop a “vulnerable-ability” in the workplace. An ability to discuss, with the intention of helping others – at the right time and place, the experience of living with a diagnosis.  

Being able to share my story with Brennan, and eventually other colleagues at COSCO, gave me the confidence to start this Revealing Voices podcast without risk to my professional career. My transparency helped me build repertoire and deepen relationships. I became a leader of a corporate initiative to encourage coworkers to focus on wellness, including their mental health. I was grateful that sharing my bipolar II diagnosis helped others feel comfortable being more vulnerable and allowed me to continue to grow professionally.

So why did I leave a workplace that played a profound role in my stability?

I admired my co-workers and their critical role in helping me reestablish my career. However, as many of us did during the pandemic, I reevaluated my career path. While many struggled with isolation during the pandemic, my mental health thrived during that time. I discovered the bedrock of my stability was my connection to nature. Gardening, landscaping, hiking, writing haiku, and working with advocates to protect our natural resources were an endless source of joy and hope during those difficult days in 2020 and 2021. Doing these activities was therapeutic for me and I wanted to share that appreciation with others.

My growing commitment to environmental advocacy turned into a recognition of a soulful desire to do environmental ministry work. I discovered a grant writing opportunity with a company called Faith in Place that supports environmental work in Indiana, Illinois, and Wisconsin.

I knew of Faith in Place through a recent merger with a nonprofit called Hoosier Interfaith Power & Light. I had participated in some of their virtual meetings during the pandemic to learn how they were supporting environmental advocacy within spiritual communities that ranged from Baptist to Buddhist. 

I applied and devoted many hours to devouring the content on the Faith in Place webpage, podcasts, and social media. I had never been that prepared for an interview. 

On a cold January morning, I took the day off from COSCO. I was volunteering to go to Indianapolis to meet with state legislators to discuss renewable energy. Before I left, I checked my email. There it was – a job offer from Faith in Place! I wholeheartedly accepted the invitation. When I arrived in Indianapolis, I serendipitously met three Faith in Place staff in the Capitol building. We gathered for an impromptu group photo with glowing smiles of surprise as they welcomed me to the team. 

Later that week, I joined my co-workers at COSCO to paint a new large meeting space. As we worked together, we talked about my job transition. I spoke with gratitude about my time at COSCO, sharing parts of the career metamorphosis that led to this opportunity for me to spread my wings. 

After the painting was finished, I stood in the room for a moment as we were cleaning up. The laser level that we used to paint the dividing line between gray and white sections of the wall was perfect.  I thought about how this would be a vibrant space for the COSCO team – where important discussions and fun team building activities would lead the company into a profitable future. This place that was the foundation for so much of my healing, however, would no longer be my home away from home. It was time to retire from this chapter in my career and embark into completely new territory. I was confident that my mental health was ready to endure the journey. In a quiet moment after my COSCO colleagues departed, I stood alone in the large unfurnished room. I was so grateful for what was and what will  be.  

Meticulous line
Paint dries, new conference room
I turn towards the door

HAIKAST XIII – Life Verse

I have a “life verse.”  Before adopting this so-called life verse, I always thought of people who said they had one as being a little woo-woo.  I didn’t understand how to claim something from the Bible as my own.  I’m sure I was a little cynical about life verses before finding mine, because I assumed that people would find something they liked without a deep personal story and just roll with it. I was dismissive of the randomness of picking a verse.  

I want to apologize to anyone that I didn’t pay attention to because of that attitude.   

A life verse can be consequential and anyone who claims one may have a story that is worth considering. Really, anything that is a lifelong commitment is worthy of our attention because of the great care it takes to select and cultivate.  

I tend to not want to make life defining pronouncements. This is probably because they may be more of a fleeting fancy than something with the substance of a true resolution. 

As I write this, it is Lent in the Christian calendar. I normally honor the season by stopping or starting a habit as a way of focusing on the coming of Easter. This year, I decided to start reading the four Biblical gospels and stop eating food after dinner. Little more spiritual nourishment and a  little less dessert nourishment. I picked them as short-term commitments.  

It seems logical that a long term commitment like a life verse would require even more consideration than what to do for Lent. However, what I’m about to tell you isn’t so much about me picking a verse, it’s a story of a verse picking me.

As I was going through graduate school, I also worked full time at our local hospital.  To manage my stress level, I gravitated towards a hybrid role that was a mix of a floor secretary (processing medical orders from doctors and nurses), a Care Partner (having direct patient care responsibilities in partnership with the nurses), and, for difficult patients, a Sitter (literally sitting with them and carefully watching so they wouldn’t fall, pull out their IVs, or commit self-harm). I sat with lots of people who were in critical condition. While I never saw someone pass away, there were a number of patients who I spent the last days or hours with – being on high alert monitoring the patients’ vital signs and taking care of the family’s needs.

On my last day at the hospital – a day that I had no idea would actually be my last – I brought my Bible. It wasn’t ever my expectation to read to the patient, but some days when I was responsible for sitting, I needed a good long read. I would only read the Bible to the patient if they directly asked me to share with them. It happened to be on this day, the patient was curious about what I was reading.  So I read to them this passage:

“Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.”

My Bible does have lots of notes scribbled on the margins of the pages. However, it rarely lists the time and place when a verse carried indelible personal significance. I did make a note of this verse that day. March 2010. Soon after reading to the patient, I was asked to go to HR. I had been in two patient fall cases in recent weeks when I misjudged when I should give them privacy while they were using the bathroom. It was time for me to resign. 

Four years later, after a long bout of depression, I found myself on the edge of another resignation. I didn’t know when it was going to happen, but it definitely felt like there was a strong possibility that I would need to step down. Many of my coworkers knew that I had been hospitalized the previous year and I had felt alienated from them for months. It was eerily similar timing to me resigning from the hospital nine months after a hospitalization for severe depression. I was hanging on to a job that I think both my contractor and I knew could not last.

I was reading a daily devotional that year. On the day that I was asked to resign, I went home for lunch and read the devotional. The same verses from Ephesians popped up again – this time beginning at verse 14,  “Instead, speaking the truth in love…..”

When I went back to work, I met with my supervisor and we had the difficult conversation of me needing to resign. I was numb, feeling like I had already been grieving an inevitable end to another promising career path. I wept in the car in the parking lot, unable to collect myself to drive home. I wondered how I was going to recover from my ongoing mental illness and my second job loss in 4 years. That day, I felt like I had lost nearly everything, but I had gained a verse.  It was the day my life verse was born.   

I slowly rebuilt my life, with my wife, friends, and extended family offering unconditional love through the process. I took solace in contemplating what it means to speak the truth in love. I discovered that the Ephesians passage is the only verse in the Bible that is directly translated as speaking the truth in love. I knew that my recovery needed to include the way that I spoke to myself. 

In depression, it is easy to embrace certain “truths” about who I am that do not take in the full picture of my humanity. My negative self-talk that fueled so much of my depressive episodes was full of self doubt and fear of failure. I can get tied up in negative emotional attachments to experiences of when I felt like I could have made better decisions, been more sensitive to others, or put forth more effort. I don’t give myself grace for my natural limitations or lack of knowledge. In short, it is truth without love.  

The Ephesians passage allowed me to pause and rethink how I talk to myself. It gave me the insight that I’m only one part of an entire Christian community and that it’s ok if I only play a small part, as long as it is in earnest and pursued in a spirit of unconditional love. The truth, when considered in love, is full of grace – it does not condemn or isolate, but points to each of us being connected to a sacred community. With this affirming perspective, I began to love myself and accept my diagnosis.   

I started a practice of studying the Bible using the lectio divina. It is a practice of reading small sections of the Bible multiple times and paying attention to words or phrases that resonate with the reader. I would then write reflections on what I read. I began practicing lectio divina with verses that included the word “humility.” I recovered by understanding and practicing humility. 

It took almost a year to feel ready to reenter the workforce, and when I did, it was with a renewed sense of self-respect and trust in my wherewithal. I am grateful that I have not slipped back into depression since reentering the workforce.

After 7 successful years working in product development and marketing at Cosco, I was incredibly thankful for the stability, job advancement, and relationships I had built. However, in 2022, I sensed that I was being called to a new career path. I decided to go on a retreat to St. Meinrad in southern Indiana to spend time in solitude and prayer. While there, I often go to the Arch Abbey Sanctuary where the monks gather to pray multiple times per day.

As my 2 day retreat came to a close, I went for a final prayer hour. Nearing the end of the hour, the Bible was opened and a monk began reading.

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work….”

There it was again. I found peace and resolution in that moment as my life verse was spoken in the sanctuary. This time, I was ready for new work. 

Ephesians 4 read
The verse about Truth in Love
Monks gave me a gift

HAIKAST VI – The Local Drafts

Fifteen years ago, on the day my divorce was finalized, I sat around a corner table with some friends at the Columbus Bar. This was not a celebration, but a solemn gathering of men who supported me through one of the most difficult times of my life.  

A few months before, my best friend, Ben Stilson, and I had changed allegiances from Buffalo Wild Wings to Columbus Bar for a number of reasons – gigantic onion rings, best fish sandwich in town, first microbrewery in Columbus, and the kindness of the owner, Jon Myers.  The Diesel Oil Stout was a revelation in local brewing beauty.

That night of the divorce, Jon was serving us. For old times sake, in remembrance of fun evenings I had experienced in England back in college, I ordered an absinthe. Jon brought it to the table, with the special glassware, spoon, and sugar cube. It was a bittersweet night, but one of remarkable fraternal bonding and creation of new memories as I started a new chapter of life.

Weeks later, Ben and I, along with our friend Patrick Fosdick, were forming a Columbus Young Professionals team to compete in a summer long “Amazing Race” competition. The goal was to solve clues that led us to special spots in town. We needed to take a picture at each location and write a blog post about it. We were looking for a fourth team member, so on a whim, we asked Jon if he would like to join us. He did and the 4 of us gathered at the front plaza of City Hall to begin the competition. We had forgotten to create a team name. In a moment of creative clarity, Ben offered up the name “The Local Drafts.” The double entendre of being recruited to this team and promoting Jon’s Powerhouse microbrewery immediately resonated. 

So the Local Drafts ran around for 3 months, bonding while taking silly pictures holding empty beer mugs all over Columbus. We finished fourth in that summer of 2008. As we realized our formal time as a team was coming to a close, we reflected on the deepening bonds we had established and brainstormed how we could keep the fun going. So we organized a party called a Blind Beer Taste Test. We picked 8 beers in a particular style and randomly placed them into an elite 8 bracket. One person poured 1.5 oz samples into 2 separate glasses and after trying both, a vote was taken. There was then a Final Four round and a final head to head match to decide the champion of the beer style. In October of 2008, Keystone Light won the inaugural Blind Beer Taste Test competition in the Light Beer style.  We loved it. And kept doing it. 

I was not in a fraternity in college. I didn’t like the idea of hazing and the drunkenness associated with it. As the years went on and Ben, Jon, Patrick, and I invited more people to the taste tests, we realized that the fraternal bonds that developed through this ritual and all of the friendships that emerged outside of the taste test experiences were very special. No hazing required.  

In 2012, we inducted a new “class” of 4 Local Draft gentlemen and 6 more by the end of 2018.  The “organization,” and I do put that in quotes, waxed and waned in attempts to formalize, but in the end we decided we all just wanted to be together. Not to have meetings, but to have gatherings. Random happenings. Maybe it was golfing or hiking or helping someone move or supporting a Draft through a job transition, or planting trees, or volunteering, or organizing spur of the moment happy hours. 

In 2017, we had our first overnight trip on a trip to Cave Run Lake in Kentucky – starting an annual tradition of a 3-night, out of state trip. It will take too long to tell the stories of Three Rivers, Michigan – other than to say the Drafts have all left a piece of their hearts with our gracious AirBnB host, Mary Doezema, and her idyllic acreage with its winding boardwalk through beautiful wetlands. The relationships with these men have all become such an incredible blessing for me.

I did not know any of these guys in high school or college. I hear about men struggling to have meaningful relationships as adults and I’m thankful that I’ve been able to cultivate enduring friendships. It’s not about the beer or working at the same company or going to the same church or following the same sports teams.  The root is in sharing the same community and being committed to caring. In a way, it was born out of my suffering after the divorce and being full of gratitude for the men who walked beside me in my time of greatest need.

After my last hospitalization for major depression in 2013, my wife decided to share my bipolar II diagnosis with our church and friend group. When I returned home, the Drafts organized a game night at our house and a group of 8 men gathered around our dining room table to play for hours. The acceptance that I felt that night was an incredible experience of brotherly love. In the weeks that followed, I finally found peace with my diagnosis, knowing that I would be loved and supported through the recovery process. With that confidence, I have been able to cast aside the isolating effects of stigma to become a more steadfast advocate for mental health.  

So to the original Drafts already mentioned and Robb Kelly, Joey “Yolo” Leo, Johnny Unitas Koefoed, Jeff Bradley, Josh “Draft Lite” Brown, Brian Hardy, Tyler Reynolds, Philip “the OG Quadfather” Roggow, Kevin Hurst, and Cruz Baisa – thank you.  And since our motivation to formally initiate beyond 14 has waned over the years – shout outs to Mr. Brandon Andress, Derek Young, Chris “Toast” Myers, Darrin Clyde Myers, and Professor Slayer! 

What a joyous occasion when we meet! Thank you for the last 15 years!    

Circle table seat
Grief shared with friends, turns to joy
Mugs merge, cry of cheers!