Month: March 2019

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Living Through Trauma

When I sit in my ‘man cave’ (our office) I feel like I’m in my safe place and I can close the door and leave the world outside. But that’s not really true, I believe it creeps in under the door and through the cracks. But it’s in my ‘man cave’ that I find refuge, strength and distraction; my greatest source of therapy. For it’s here I can read, write my blogs, paint and just mediate or pray. Oh yah, I forgot, and I become ‘Walter on da line’. All of these various activities have helped so much in helping me escape the darkness or that feeling of knowing that something is just not right. That nagging, gut wrenching feeling of uneasiness. Words really cannot describe how it really feels.

As I sit here in the early hours of the morning, there’s a deafening silence. I’m not comfortable with silence, it scares me, afraid of what thoughts I might hear. So I grab my pencil and start writing, I’ve needed to write but didn’t know what to say or where to start. You would think I have said everything I needed to say by now. But everyday brings new challenges, something new that triggers my brain to want to write about. Mental illness certainly has given me lots to share and the topics are endless.

Today I want to talk about trauma and how it affects your life, how we deal with it and how someone with a mental illness, especially depression and anxiety, can cope with it and survive. Trauma is defined as a deeply distressing or disturbing experience. Over my lifetime I have encountered many traumatizing experiences, all of which triggered my depression and anxiety disorder. So dealing with trauma in your life, while at the same time living with a mental illness, hits you with a double whammy. You are fighting two battles at the same time, which makes it even more distressing.

I’m going to be honest with you, there really aren’t any concrete answers. There’s no one thing that I can say to you that will make the pain go away, except time and that just deadens it for a while. There’s a lot of truth to the phrase, ‘time heals all wounds’. But I always say, ‘they leave such ugly scars’. Especially when it comes to trauma; we have to take just one day at a time and with each day there will come some healing.

I am not a trained professional, nor do I claim to be; but I have lived and survived through many traumatic experiences in my life.

I believe the first step is to talk to someone; whether that being a professional therapist, councillor, trusted friend or partner. Knowing that you are not alone and you have support is certainly your first step on your journey to healing.

We also have to accept that bad things happen to good people. It’s a part of life that we all will have to deal with at some time or another. I compare my life to a boat on the ocean. There are some days when we have a beautiful calm but then there are other days when we are in the midst of the raging seas. But we have to remember, storms don’t last forever; we just need to ride out the storm and eventually (sometimes longer then others) the storm will cease and the calm will come again.

If our trauma was caused by someone else; we have to forgive, we must ‘love your enemy’. Now that doesn’t happen overnight. Ecclesiastes says, ‘there’s a time to love and a time to hate’. Right now we may be at the hating stage, but with time we can learn to love again and let go of the anger. Holding on to anger and hate only hurts ourselves, so there are and were many times when I had to let it go and free myself and learn to forgive.

We also need to recognize our strength. Life may at times knock us down but we have to get up again. I believe experiencing painful events and trauma in our lives makes us more resilient. When we see that we have already survived, we know we can make it through again. We just have to keep getting up, never stay down.

Experiencing trauma in our lives can also give us greater compassion for other trauma survivors. We can relate on a new level because we ‘get it’. And relating to others can further provide a source of strength. It certainly gives us a sense of purpose in life when we know we are helping others and bringing some good into an already hurting world.

So if and when we do experience trauma in our lives, we can work through it and with time, will find healing and the hurt won’t hurt so bad. I hope I have encouraged you today and have given you some food for thought. We are stronger then we think, even in the roughest seas.

 

 

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Let’s Talk Suicide

I just finished reading another heart wrenching story written by a Mom about her daughter who had died by suicide. Her Mom goes on to say (speaking of her daughter)  that in March 2017 she lost her battle with depression and died from suicide.

The stigma that society as placed on suicide is ridiculous. So much so that it steals from the grieving family the opportunity to grieve without prejudice, guilt or shame. And the deceased is looked upon in an undignified, judgemental and condescending manner. It’s sad, that even today we still use language like ‘committed suicide’ or ‘taking your own life’, as if it is an intentional, deliberate and rational process. If someone loses a 10 years battle with cancer, we talk about their bravery, their strength and how they were an inspiration to all around them. And they were certainly all of those things, I am not denying that. But people (myself included) with depression are fighting a constant battle as well. Some people lose their battle with depression and other mental illness through suicide. But the way in which Society views this person is the complete opposite of the way they would view someone with cancer or some other physical disease. They are looked upon as selfish, weak and highly stigmatized. It’s time for this ignorant way of thinking to end!

Someone suffering from a mental illness should be treated with the same dignity, pride, love, compassion and remembered as brave fighters, regardless of the circumstances of their death. Maybe you have not been introduced to the ‘death of shame’, but maybe if it hit close to home, to someone you loved, you would soon start to see suicide in a new light. I hope you never have to experience such  an horrific death but there are no exemptions. So the next time you are quick to pass judgement, may you think before you speak.  Someone who has fought a mental illness for too long and within their broken mind the only way they see to ‘fix it’ is through suicide. Relieving themselves and their families of this horrible burden of sorrow, shame and ugliness.

This blog is not based on my spiritual beliefs and I wish not to get into a religious debate. But is based on the right to die and be treated with dignity, no matter the cause. We were always taught to respect the dead. It’s about being treated humanely with no disrespect for anyone involved. But may we leave the ‘God Stuff”, up to God, it’s certainly not our place to judge; God has the last word! But may it be our responsibility to, love, to be compassionate and a shoulder to cry on. I want to be that person that is there for the hurting, the misjudged and for those suffering from a loss of a loved one by suicide. Or if you are that person that is contemplating suicide or just wishing you could die to end this unbearable pain, then I’m here for you too. I have been and still have those days just like that, so you are not alone; I’ve been there too.

I know I have nothing to be ashamed of because I have a mental illness. Yes, my brain is broken and tells me I’m a loser, I’m weak, I’m a good for nothing, etc. No different then if I was suffering from anorexia and my brain was telling me; I’m fat and ugly. None of which are true but when you have a ‘sick’ brain you cannot always control the way you think.

And that is why more needs to be done to find more effective ways to treat the brain and  then suicide wouldn’t need to be an option and hopelessness would be turned to hope and hope to life. But right now I believe our Mental Health System is failing us, one suicide at a time; at an alarming and frightening rate. Someone open your eyes! We are in the midst of a suicidal epidemic and very little is done. ‘Let’s Talk’ is great but ‘Let’s Do’!

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A Life Of Fighting

‘Desperate times cause for desperate measures’, that’s what the quote says anyway. Here I am at Robin’s, sitting alone, sipping a coffee and writing; like I was getting paid for it. I’m expecting the roof to blow off the building any minute, the wind is blowing so hard. I’m here trying to put my thoughts together but nothing seems to work. If I’m getting paid per word for what I’m writing, then my pay won’t be much today.

I’ve just experienced two horrible weeks of depression and nothing I do helps. When you are feeling depressed; ‘to do’ are the last two words in your vocabulary. You really feel totally disabled, not that you don’t want ‘to do’ something, you can’t do it. It’s like your body goes in shut down mode and you find it next to impossible to function. Nothing brings you joy, you feel numb but mostly you feel angry and guilty because you feel this way. I know it’s not my fault, this illness has captured my mind and as held me prisoner for most of my life.

Major depression is not a once in a lifetime occurrence or at least it hasn’t been for me. I guess I can compare it to a roller coaster, with many ups and downs; with the downs a lot lower then the highs of the ups. The scariest part of the ride is, you have no choice in when your ride will end and you can get off. Yes, you will experience times when your depression goes into remission as it were. You know it’s still there, but you can live life with a little more  ease. Those are the times when you have to enjoy life to it’s fullest because you don’t know how long this reprieve will last. And  then that disabling, crippling, ugly beast of depression returns in all it’s fury; that’s where I’ve been for the past few weeks. I call it a veil of sadness.

What happens to me during this period of time? I change! I find it difficult to laugh, but yet normally, I love to laugh. I love to make other people laugh; so much so that I started a YouTube channel called, ‘Walter on da line’ and it’s all about laughing. But when I’m in this pit of despair I cannot even play the part but yet I miss it so much. I’m hoping this cloud will soon lift and I can get back to playing my character, ‘Walter’, once again. Then, I didn’t go to church on Sunday, and I rarely miss. But I just could not go, I couldn’t be around large crowds, just too overwhelming. The darkness was starting to close in, the dark night of depression was creeping in. When this happens I find it really hard to see the sunshine, even when the sun is shining. I love bright sunny days but when depression strikes, the darkness hides the sunshine. I want to just run and hide. I ignore the phone, not that  I don’t want to talk to the other person but I just can’t. I just want to sleep and isolate; but I know if I do, depression will take over. So now I am becoming very frightened, scared and panic is setting in, I’m terrified that I’m relapsing, that I’m returning to that place I call hell. I can’t go there again, ever! I know now I have to see my doctor. I make my appointment.

The night before my doctor’s appointment, I sat down and tried to the best of my ability, to write what I thought he needed to hear, in order to help me.

Once inside his office, I sat and pulled out my letter of ‘confession’ and nervously let him hear what I was feeling. ‘My doctor appointment note’:

‘Lying in my restless bed last night, I turned over at least a thousand times. My appointment with my doctor this morning was enough to give anyone nightmares. I felt my life was on the line but how would I make him see that. And if he did, what good would it do, if any? Had my diagnosis been written in stone and this was my lot in life? Six months had gone by since my last appointment and here I was again, waiting impatiently in the waiting room.

What as happened in those six months that he would need to know and that I would need to tell him, in order for him to understand where I am today, in my somewhat mental health. I guess those pass six months have proven, I’m not suicidal because if I were, I would not be sitting in this chair today and he would have lost one of his many patients.

But how have I improved or declined since my last visit? Mental health isn’t as black or white as other physical illnesses and therefore much harder to explain and pinpoint. For me each day and everyday is a fight and a struggle to survive this war within. Some days very intense, others maybe not so intense, but a struggle none the less. It’s a fight to function, to move, to feel happiness, to perform. Some days I do fairly well, others not so well.

The last few weeks I have found myself spiraling downward into a deep hole of despair. Wanting to sleep more, to escape the pain. Longing just to feel okay. Not being afraid to face the day, just to know I can do this. But lots of my days I loose my fight, I run out of ammunition, there’s nothing left to fight with. I’m exhausted, tired, frustrated and lots of times hopelessness creeps in and tries to steal that little bit of ‘being’ that I have left. But I won’t let go, I hold on tight.

My pain becomes real through my tears. I have moments when I have to let them escape and let some of the pain go. Sometimes I think I feel healing in my tears. Some people may call that weakness but I call that strength. Keeping it all inside is weakness; not wanting or knowing what to do with the pain. Finding ways to cope, to heal, to be okay; is strength! On most days, that’s how I have functioned.

But the scary days come when you feel you are loosing control, when you are loosing your battle and you have no strength to fight back. That’s the scary days and that’s where I am today.’

I believe he heard me, he was listening. But I also believe that he knows that this is really what my life is, was and always will be. I will have good days and bad days, but I have to accept that that’s the way this illness works, much like any other illness, you have it and you just have to learn to live with it. Right now I feel really low but I have to believe that I will bounce back again. That the light will shine again, that the spark will come back into my eyes, my energy and drive will increase and life will be restored to my being.

I know what I have written is very personal and some would call private. But if I am going to be honest and expose this horrible disease for what it is, then I have to tell it like it is and hide nothing. Good days and bad days. If I have to sacrifice my own privacy to help others to see and feel this misunderstood, stigmatized and cruel disease, then I will do so.