Where’s Pop Pop?

by Troy Bishopp

I remember it well on a week-long family vacation, overhearing my granddaughter’s voice downstairs from my groggy, sleepy state asking the question: Where’s Pop Pop?

To comfort her, someone said, “He’s tired and is sleeping”. However, it’s not normal to mimic Rip Van Winkle, and lay your head down and not function for three days. I was burned out. I’m gonna assume many folks who read this know what I’m talking about. My rancher friend, Dave Voth calls it “The badge of honor” syndrome. However, it goes way further than the farm, just ask anyone from another profession.

It was seemingly the first time that this happened to me in such a stark, unplanned, manner. I mean, any farmer has their grouchy periods and steals naps when it rains, but for me, this was a clear indicator of trouble, and it was on full display for my family to witness. Which in a weird sort of way, was a good thing to see and realize the old man was hurting and the stoic, farmer wall had crumbled.

The work-alcoholism and keeping your endless “unattainable” lists, financial worries and profound grief and emotions tucked inside was too much. Some of us type-A personalities need the wake-up call and this was it. I was humbled. . .

A “reawakening” was in store for me, as I learned others were in the same proverbial boat, but as farmers, we’re expected to soldier on, alone, and pull yourself up by your bootstraps. It’s what society seems to expect from us agriculture people. It’s a false narrative. I never envisioned the past 15 years would lead to a foray into the farmer mental health space and being dubbed the “burn-out” guy or the “work-life balance” guy.

I didn’t ask for this connotation, but here I am with reddened eyes and a better understanding of the triggers to the "tornado of negativity", as my fellow “burnout” friend and young farmer, John Suscovich calls it, on his infamous meltdown podcast episode.

For me, the trigger mechanism is sleep deprivation. Seems easy enough to solve, just get some sleep. Falling asleep is easy, staying asleep is hard, as my mind races throw scenario after another, in an effort to keep up with the work, financial obligations, family needs, grief reconciliation and the what-ifs.

Not being in control is numbing, and the fear of failure or failing other’s expectations is debilitating. Work ethic is my armor against all odds and having it compromised was hard to take or talk about with other “workers”. That wasn’t until two workaholics crashed together and found a way to talk about it, talk it out, and talk about solutions. Talk about healing. Healing is just a conversation away.

That talking led to others safely talking and sharing in popup “sanctuaries of free thinking” sessions after a conference or pasture walk, where you could go into the weeds and feel better afterward.

We talk about breaking the cycle in my circles, because we are so habitual and lone wolf, in our agricultural context.

My mantra for breaking the cycle of worry and despair just happened to come from a simple, paper grazing chart where “breaks” from incessant work could be planned, looked forward to and highlighted when done with an actual highlighter marker (satisfying) and of course, from the photos I took of the memories with my wife, family and friends. It is the process of planned control that was important, especially after hearing a farmer friend say the horrifying phrase that “He didn’t deserve a day off!”

The sad part is, after 40 years of farming and pouring my emotions out in public to be judged, there are still a few who question the practice of taking breaks from work, in their devilish tone, with the connotation of being “lazy.” For a farmer, that word is Kryptonite and probably why I am up at 4 a.m. again writing this. The work of caring for land, family and community is my identity, and to question that is debilitating. Again, the fear of failure is a real emotion for men, and I’m no different. Putting the 1% negative away against the 99% positive seems harder than it looks, but I’m coping as I read, “The Let Them Theory” by Mel Robbins.

There is something else I’d like the reader to realize. Every day, someone is on the struggle bus and, with the help of social media, they can share their story, remind others where help is, and give us inspiration to pause for a moment to collect ourselves and consider our path forward for good.

This happened to me as I recently read a moving article by rancher, Shanon Sims about “photographs being worth a thousand words”.

It pointed out a trigger in myself that I will always be haunted by, and why I have waded into the mental health awareness space and found people who listen and help. It was July 28th, 2017 when I unknowingly hugged my brother for the last time and sent him away on family vacation where he died on the Carolina shore that weekend. The last trigger for me is not having a picture of us together and the realization that with all the busyness and work we never took the shot. I’m sobbing when I say, “Take the Damn picture!”

In the last month, I have attended five funerals for family and community members. The gatherings are adorned with those pictures and of memories created and no one said, “How hard they worked or how little time they took off.” Work is important, but not as important as the memories created by such toil. I’m sorry I didn’t get this sentiment sooner in my life, but I’m on a path to recovery and mental stability.

Where’s Pop Pop nowadays? He’s the annoying one who is always taking the pictures!