The Story of how 'Daily Good Dog Feedings' Started.
It is one of those stories that can change your life, forever, igniting a spark of hope and offering up a powerfully effective yet simple technique. The story of the Good Dog has changed my life forever and as you will see, the lives of many others around the world.
Often, when I'm suffering from my mental illness, (Bi-Polar II), mania and depression as well as severe ADHD, when hope fades into desperation, I pray, No, I plead with God to listen to me, to help relieve of my suffering ... yet, I hear nothing but that maddeing silence.
This story is about how God answered my pleading prayer, not only giving me hope and strength but also giving me the idea of lighting a single candle that has already lit thousands of other's candles all over this planet, providing a little daily flicker of hope that others can light their own candles and find their way out of the dark.
Ok, back to the story ... sorry, I do get a bit manic when I write ...
About a year ago, I was undergoing a particularly bad bout of debilitating depression, hiding it from those around me, as usual, while dying inside. I was at an alcohol support meeting when someone shared a simple story. My life has never been the same since then.
Funny how sometimes somebody says something that sticks, that becomes a permanent fouundation on which you can rebuild your entire life. Perhaps I was at a place in my life that I was worn out and ready to listen. That day, God answered my pleading prayer, through one guy, that I had not seen before or since that meeting, one of my angels - there have been, many!
Finally ... The Story that Changed My Life, Forever ...
A Native American Elder told a story about his people believe that we all have, within us, a 'Good Dog' and a 'Bad Dog,' that are always fighting to be in control.
My friend asked him, "Which One Wins?"
The elder simply replied, "The One That You Feed."
That anonymous angel shared that story with me in January of 2007. At the time of hearing it, I thought, "Cool story, after 20 years around this place, it's amazing to hear something I've never heard before." That was it, just a simple story that I thought was pretty cool. I filed it into my brain with all the other clutter accumulated from 54 years of mostly useless thinking and went about trying to survive another day of my life.
That very next morning (mornings are the hardest time for my depression) I seemed to be especially aware of my thoughts. I watched as my mind instantly went towards fear, dread and self hate; it's as if I was watching myself watching myself and condemning myself.
My depression, especially when mixed with extreme mania at the same time, can cause me to feel disconnected, totally fragmented from my-self (whatever self is) and the rest of the world. That morning was especially harsh, feeling as I was hovering over myself, watching this pathetic human parasite in that dirty bathrobe smoking a cigarette and filled with hate and disgust and anguish of feeling so alone and anger at God for feeling like such a victim for having to endure this kind of pain. You get the picture ... it was a pretty atypical morning for me.
