I thought it would be easier than this. I'm a stay-at-home mom, but wouldn't that mean I can keep house and take care of the kid? Ha! There are dishes to wash and put away, toys all over the house, clean clothes (that were washed 4 days ago) that still need to be put away, and 2 hours ago I wanted a nap. Now? My son is asleep, but I can't sleep. Forget the dishes. I wanna write! But sitting here I realize what I want to do will take more than a couple of hours. I'm much better at writing poetry. Spew out a few lines, rearrange them a couple of time, scratch out one or two, toss another into the mix, and voila! Thirty to 45 minutes later I've got a poem. Task completed. So what was it that I wanted to write that would take longer than that? A book. Well, several books. I've got ideas on a kids' novel, young adult novel, non-fiction coverage on my poems and how my bipolar episode influenced my poetry. My hands itch to write but whether its from tiredness or lack of organization, I don't accomplish those goals. My dream would be to have someone else wash the dishes while I write my books. I still wanna take care of my son, but I can only focus on one thing at a time. I'm not good at multi-tasking. So writing takes the back seat. Except when I can come in here and spew out a few lines...
I've recently heard about my husband's co-worker who's brother committed suicide. Life isn't fair. My heart goes out to the co-worker and to all who have lost loved ones to suicide. I could have been one, I tried to commit suicide when I was in a deep depression a few years back. It wasn't my fault that I was depressed. It wasn't your fault, either. There are things that go on in our heads when depressed that can't be explained or described. I was in this depression when I should have been happy. Its very frustrating when you can't make yourself the "happy" you think you should be, that everyone else is.
If you've lost someone to suicide, I can say they left because they knew you were strong. I had to think and think and think of a reason to stay behind. I did think about my family, my brother, my mom. They'll survive without me. That's what I thought.
But when I thought of my grandmother, that held me back. She was in her 80s at the time and I knew she already had anxiety problems and "heart" problems. I knew she'd take it very hard losing her only granddaughter. She had started to lose weight when I started my mood swings. She's what anchored me here to stay.
Its difficult to explain the pain of depression unless you've been through it. It was very difficult to think. All I could feel was this sort of anxiety to hurry and off myself, to end the mental pain. Its very frustrating to try to do the things that used to make you happy and it not make you happy. I cried so much and so hard, my chest and heart literally hurt.
I had psychosis to add to these feelings of unhappiness. The hallucinations would only drag me down further. Too often, I had heard something like a thousand voices shouting at me that I was useless, no-good, hopeless, horrible, etc. If one person can scream at you and make you cry, which has happened to me, imagine what a thousand voices could make you feel like. There was also this one single voice that kept telling me to off myself: "Why don't you just crash into that tree?" It went on for a few months before I got my diagnosis and understood what it meant to have psychotic features. And even more months before it all went away.
With all these confusing, internal, brain-chemistry-wire-crossing, it was very difficult to hear or see those around me. Don't get me wrong, I knew when my mom was visiting. I just couldn't form the words to speak how I felt, when I wasn't understanding what I was feeling. How can I ask for what I need, when I'm not sure what it is that I need? It's not your fault that you didn't understand or know. It's not my fault I didn't know what to do, either. I don't blame any friend or family member for my struggles during that time. I knew they helped with what they could.
All I can do now is offer my condolences to those who have lost loved ones to suicide and to tell you: its not your fault.
To the one considering suicide: It's a lie that you hear. The whisper or shout to end it all. It's not what you need. I've often wondered why I felt such a strong desire to off myself when I had no reason to do so. There must have been some trigger to overload or decrease something that produced those strong feelings. We've all heard about the chemical imbalance. Perhaps our diet predisposes us to certain conditions. Maybe even something environmental; we do live in a chemical world. Whatever it was, it was enough to cause that "confusing, internal, brain-chemistry-wire-crossing". But it wasn't your fault. Consider the ant trail. We've all took a swipe at that invisible trail they follow and watched how they suddenly become confused and lost. Something must have swiped at my brain chemistry to cause my depression and suicidal feelings. But consider also, how the ants regain their invisible path and their work is continued. You, too, can regain your path. Forgive yourself. Survive today in the simplest way possible so that you can thrive tomorrow.
If I had not gone through that hardest part of my life, I would not have met my husband. I sit here now 11 years later, married to a wonderful husband of 5 1/2 years (I've known him for 9 1/2 yrs.), and with 2 beautiful boys ages 4 and 1 1/2. I still struggle. I still get down. But I know if I can regain my path from the hardest struggle, I can regain it again and with more family support now.
Survive today so that you can thrive tomorrow.
Comments? Suggestions? I'd love to hear from you.
I like reading. Of course, I'm going to read those things that interest me or that are intriguing to me. Dragons hold that "intrigue".
There was a book that I just happen to cross in the library. Dragons and Dragon Lore by Earnest Ingersoll. Its been a while since I read it now, but I can recall knowing that an Englishman wrote it, from how it was written. I could hear his accent as I read. Click the title of the book above to read the book online.
He made a few drawings of the evolution of the dragon on page 47. The first one looks like a snake with two arms. In his book he noted that the first tales and drawings of a dragon were more serpentine. I found this interesting because the Bible also refers to "The Great Dragon" in Revelation 12:9 as "the original serpent." You'll find the "original serpent" in Genesis chapter 3.
I don't know if Mr. Ingersoll was a religious man, if he read the Bible at all, but his findings correlate with the Bible. No, not prophetically. Just with how this "dragon" image morphed in history and cultures. The dragon and serpent in the Bible are used to help describe Satan. I would gather that people understood the image of a dragon or serpent back then. It was an analogy, at least in Revelation. The serpent appears in the first book, Genesis. The dragon appears in the last book, Revelation. This reflects the history of the dragon images.
It's interesting to think that the Bible even shows the history of dragon lore, if just a small piece of it. I'm not saying Mr. Ingersoll wasted his time researching the dragon. I thoroughly enjoyed his book. Whether I'm right, eh, it really doesn't matter. I just made an observation.
So much can happen in a short period of time. But it's been more than a short period of time.
Mom's health or I should say emotional health is up and down. Cancer is a difficult thing to deal with, physically as well as emotionally. I knew Mom had cancer before she had the biopsies. I still suspect she's got more problems than the areas her oncologist knows about so far. Support and encouragement is about all I can give my mom now. But even for me, its been difficult.
I knew that I knew that I knew. And I was having anxiety because I wanted her to get on the road to treatment quicker than her appointments were happening. For my mom, though, things were happening too fast for her. I've had to back off a little, but Mom has been meeting me half way. I prayed for strength and patience in dealing with my mom. I think my prayer has been answered. I don't feel the same level of anxiety I had a month ago. I'm realizing and focusing on what I can do for her.
Helping her with phone calls and paperwork for doctor visits and insurance or any mail, for that matter, is what I know I can do for Mom. I know the feeling when you get something in the mail that you know is important, but you don't have enough brain power to figure out what to do with it. I was like that when I had my breakdown. Whether from medications or depression or a combination of both, the mail I got for that time period ended up in a box and remains there today. Hospital and doctor bills that could have been taken care of, but instead got shuffled aside and forgotten, mostly.
I know I can deal with Mom's mail. I know what to do with it, who to call for whatever, and what questions to ask. I didn't have anyone do that for me and although I got bad credit because of it, I learned the importance of having someone take care of those little, everyday things for you. The stress is lifted from the person whose mail it is. Its not just a matter of keeping things from going on your credit report; its a matter of relieving the stress and anxiety from the person, giving them a sense of being cared for and cared about and that things will work out just fine.
Its no fun when we get phone calls from collection agencies. Its no fun having these bills and other personal business in the back of your mind while you deal with depression, anxiety, and cancer.
I suppose there's more than one lesson I learned from my ordeal with depression and mental breakdowns and medications. This is just one. I'm glad I can rise to the occasion to help Mom with what I've learned.
I've always had these vivid dreams where I could recall the smallest details and intricate plots. They seemed like mini-movies. There was even one dream where I was singing a song with someone and I've remembered and used three lines of it for something I gave my husband. I've also written a short kids' book about a dream I had when I was a kid. It was for an art class project where I had to write and illustrate a kids' book. One of the fiction novels I started recently is also based on a dream I had.
I was reading a newsletter on one of my favorite author's website last week. What he mentioned about his schooling was interesting. He said that the school "did not address (his) needs or potential." Talent, at least not his, was not the focus of the school, but rather "memorization and conformity".