This chain of essays about behavioral health and mental health is exhausting.  Am I talking in circles?  Are there any conclusions? The best we can say, based only on these essays, is that we are governed by both nature and nurture.  About fifteen years ago I began an intense journey seeking sanity and serenity.  A singular method was employed.  Help others.  Turn from a life of selfishness to a live of selflessness.  I am an active volunteer in helping others less fortunate – but do not mistake me for one of the good guys.

There are people who have only known me in the recent past.  A new friend, Jo Anne, recently commended me for my work.  Jo Anne is a strong and powerfully charismatic woman.  Her volunteer activities in the cause of civilization are rarely paralleled.  Part of her skill is in lifting people up, dusting off their worn and weary clothes, and guiding them into a life of service.  I accepted her commendation with a warning to her, “I have done some good things but do not mistake me.  I am not one of the good guys”.  I saw her puzzled look and realized she has not visited the underbelly of society very often.

I have lived a life of ruthless selfishness.  My resume suggests otherwise.  As an active volunteer I climbed the ladder of social acceptance.  The not-for-profit community, the helping community, offers a myriad of activities in service to others.  That was my bandwagon.  Local not-for-profit Boards were used by me and others to pad our resumes.  Some laughed at the Boards, calling them Obituary Boards.  You know – something glorious to write in an obituary.  My use of the Boards was advanced selfishness – I often served as an officer of the Boards, usually on the Executive Committee.  My need for affirmation required more than a seat at the table.

Along the way people benefited from my work and I accepted the congratulations that came along with success.  But I am a fool.  I think I began to believe my own bullshit.  People who have known me all of my life struggled to understand me.  I come from a humble family of people working hard to improve their life.  There was little time to volunteer to help others.  My parents were good family members and good neighbors – no one could lodge any complaint against them – they are good people.  But they are also simple people.  Simple in the sense of not being worldly.  They have no idea about not-for-profits or Boards of Directors or active participation in community events.  My family is simple in the sense of hard work.  We were raised to get a high school diploma so we could get a job at the “good factory”.

There was a secret part of me that I tried to hide.  A polite way of describing me might be to say that I had an inferiority complex that I covered up with good deeds.  This public forum intimidates me.  I want to tell stories of honest confession but am restrained by the public conversation that is thefiresidepost.  Some things are best limited to a few people in an inner circle.

What can I say?  There is evidence along the way of my immaturity.  I did not know how to act.  It would take years to realize that my father and mother worked hard every day of their lives in service to their children.  It was easier to see their faults than their blessings.  This is the twoness I have spoken of before.  The yin and the yang.

Our boat rode low in the water and any disturbance to the boat was harshly punished.  We were taught to walk the straight and narrow.  Nine people in a four room house has to have hard rules.  Hard rules can keep one out of trouble in the factory work world.   My life was different than my brother’s.  I was lucky.  Computers and modern technology came along and I hitched a ride.  By the time I was 23 years old I wore a suit to work in my own office.  Just dumb luck – being in the right place at the right time.  The hard rules of my childhood did not play well in a world of ever advancing technology. I am beating around the bush.  I was immature.  It was not about hard rules or strict parents.  I was immature.  I did not know how to act in an office environment.

I learned how to keep out of trouble – but I was very slow to learn how to act appropriately.  These are different ideas, staying out of trouble versus knowing how to act.  One might have thought I was a sociopath who understood the game but only played for personal advantage.  I am not a sociopath – but I have been extremely immature and selfish.

I am struggling  as I write.  I want to tell the truth but fear only pain will result.  Let me state the obvious:  I have been married twice and divorced twice.  I have had two careers.  Some of my siblings prefer that I not come around.  I know people who will not speak to me.  I have not seen my step children in fourteen years (we lived together for eight years).  There is hard evidence of my poor behavior.  Thus my response to Jo Anne, “Do not mistake me for one of the good guys.”

Most of that which is disjointed in my life, like my siblings resentments, is out of my control.  I cannot repair damage done.  I can only move forward.  I can only be a good guy just for today.  The people who resent me do not see me for what I am today – they only see their memories of who I have been.  The balance sheet of my life feels like it is in the red.  I get one day’s profit for one day’s work.  There are days when I go backwards.  But I like to believe the trajectory is up.

I am trying to be a good guy today.