There are a number of passages in the Bible which make me sit up and question, sit up an reflect on, their true meaning.
Indeed there are a number of passages that lead me off on wonderful journeys of discovery.
Likewise some passages which I thought I had understood will often leap out at me with new meaning, new significance, new revelation.
But then, more than any other writing, the Bible for me stands unique as a constant living and fluid unfurling of narration, a living explanation of the relationship that I have with God through Christ.
One such passage that has often caused me to sit and reflect is that of 1 John 4:18…
18 There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. (KJV)
“But perfect love casteth out fear.” Its an interesting one isn’t it? Especially if, like me paranoia, or anxiety, forms part of your mental health. And especially if thqt paranoia forms part of your schizophrenia or your schizo-affective disorder and those ‘voices’ or that inner dialogue asks such things as “see you have fear, so you are not made perfect in love – what does that tell you then?”
The key words for me here however, is that of “casteth out” or in the NIV ” drives out”. In the Greek the word is βάλλω (ballō) and means to throw out or get rid of. So in answer to those voices and that inner dialogue I have to say, “how can you cast out, drive out, throw out, or get rid of something that you don’t have?”
It is a valid point isn’t it? You have to have something in the first place in order to be able to cast it out or get rid of it? So having a faith in God through Christ doesn’t mean that I will never fear or have reason to fear, it instead challenges what I do with fear when it comes my way.
So let’s look at that for a moment…
I wonder how many of us as parents have had our child or children wake up from a bad dream or nightmare and in their fear automatically call out to us of come to our bedroom door in search of us?
Or if you have no children how many of us can remember doing that ourselves when we were children and had a bad dream or nightmare?
Just going to Mum or Dad and getting their reassurance and the security that that offered dealt with that fear didn’t it? The faith and trust that perfect love that a child has for and in and from his or her parents casts out that fear.
Isn’t (and shouldn’t) the same be true in respect of the fear that we face in life as children of God?
Can’t we go to Him in faith through Christ knowing that as our perfect heavenly Father we have that perfect blessed assurance?
God is our heavenly Father and His love is perfect. In Him we have comfort and joy, as the old song goes, and yet there is no where in the Bible – as far as I can see – that says that through a relationship with God through Christ all threats, all trials, all troubles will be removed from us. In fact there are several places that indicate that they may well increase.
I have long since said, that one of the fundamental roles of a parent for a child is in many ways to be representatives and representations of God until the child is able to understand and develop his or her own relationship with God through Christ Jesus.
That source or comfort, of reassurance, of guidance and protection that we should get from our parents – especially in our younger years – is an excellent example of this and I fully believe that as Christians it is the perfect love of our heavenly Father that enables us to cast out all fear.
Some students of the bible will no doubt suggest that since this verse being preceded by the words of verse 17…
17 This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus.
it would indicate that this passage is speaking of the day of judgement, but I would point out that actually it is also about how we live our lives up to that day. Consider the words of verse 19 I would add…
19 We love because he first loved us.
We love because He first loved us and it is that perfect love that provides is with the courage that we need to run the race for which we are called.
Yes things have and in many ways are still tough and I know that I am not alone in that and that many others are going through equally if not tougher times. But as a child of my heavenly Father, His perfect love gives me the strength to go on
I mean it is something that the majority of us actually want, if we are truly honest with ourselves and something that we seek in life. To be accepted by our family, our work colleagues, our neighbors and friends.
It is also something which a lot of us, including those of us with mental health challenges, truly struggle with isn’t it? To be accepted for who we are – even with our illnesses.
It hurts and unnerves us or unsettles us, even angers us when we are not accepted. It seems harsh and uncaring, unjust and unfair when we are not accepted and can lead to a whole plethora of questions and soul-searching. And let’s be honest here, it can be emotionally crippling when it happens can’t it.
“I mean after all, what is so wrong with me, what is so bad about me, what is it that I have done, that they don’t like me, won’t accept me?“
Do they sound like familiar questions, a familiar thought process to you?
Or perhaps you have reached a stage or place in life where you have asked these questions so often now, where those thought processes have been so present in your life that you have simply stopped asking them, simply stopped questioning?
Or perhaps your past experiences – your childhood or past relationships – were such where any self-worth that you may have had was crushed or taken from you? Or perhaps worse still where you were never given any self-worth in the first place?
And where this happens what does it do to us and how we view ourselves? And as a result of that what does it do to what we are willing to accept in life?
This question has been on my heart of late and I can’t help wondering how many of us are accepting what we think we deserve (as a result of the poor self-worth or self-image that we have formulated as a result of those bad relationship or lack of positive affirmation in the past) instead of fighting for what we need?
If our child was ill and needed medical treatment we would do all we could to get them the best treatment possible wouldn’t we? Likewise for a parent were they to need medical treatment or for a loved one. So why are we not applying the same standards of expectations when it comes to ourselves?
Destroying the internal dialogues of the past and changing the way that they affect us is not easy is it?
As someone who experiences poor mental health I think this is one of my biggest battles. Add as a mental health advocate it is also a battle all too often present when folk share with me the things that are affecting them.
As a Christian – even one with poor mental health – I am convinced this is not how it is meant to be. Not what God desires for us. I am convinced that I, that we, need to combat these internal dialogues and thoughts, and I am reminded of some of the words Paul writes in his admonishment to the church at Corinth (2 Corinthians 10:3-5 NIV)…
3 For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. 4 The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. 5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.
I am convinced that God loves us and wants the best for us just as any good parent would want for his or her child.
So that is my new challenge to myself and one I invite you to consider. “to take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”
Day Five-“Younger Self” Write a letter to your younger self telling them the things you think they will need to know about when they are diagnosed with your condition.
Well I am going to cheat here slightly if I may. The reason for my cheating is that actually I have already done this exercise. It is an idea that I gained from reading something Stephen Fry had done and in response to that I wrote my “letter to a younger self” back in November of last year. Wow that year seems to have gone fast.
So having already done this exercise I thought I would republish that last – which can be found here, – but add to it and highlight the additions by placing them in red text…
Dearest Kevin,
I know that you do not really know me and that this letter is going to come as a surprise to you. And I apologize if it comes as a shock but hope that you will see that I had to write it.
To be honest, it is my sincerest hope that if you; get this letter in time, if you take time to read it, and if you truly take my words to your heart, you will never ever know me and never get a chance to become me. Not the full me at least.
You see, I am “you” or at least I am the ”you” that you have become many years in the future. It is confusing I know, but I so very much wanted to write to you telling you some truths that somehow we – you and I – have never been able to understand or accept.
Truths that I now, after years of struggle and no small amount of healing I now know and understand.
You see I know the thoughts and feelings that you (that we) have had for so long now. Thoughts and feelings of; being unloveable, of worthlessness, of guilt, and of shame and of being somehow damaged, even irreparable.
Yes Kevin, even now some forty years into your future I still struggle with these.
For as long as I can remember I too have heard and sadly listened to and believed those voices, those thoughts, those feelings that tell me I am not worth anything, that I am ugly, dirty, useless, worthless. Voices, thoughts and feelings that convince me, convince us, that we are not worth loving and that seeing as we are not worth loving that those who want to hurt us or abuse us can do so.
But you see those voices, those thoughts, those feelings are wrong, so very wrong. And we have no right to listen to them let alone to believe them and I so desperately want for you to know that and to know it now before everything goes so terribly wrong.
You are so very young. Only ten years of age, and trust me I know how already things have gone astray in your young life and how desperately alone you feel.
When you slide into your bed at night and lay there unable to sleep, scared, and alone, desperately trying to face those thoughts and feelings and voices not knowing how to stop them, to change them, to heal them, I have been and am there with you also.
I know only too well, how much you try to hide the way you feel, the thoughts you have and the voices that you hear, from your family and your teachers, and those around you for fear of rejection or ridicule or worse.
But I beg of you, dear sweet child, I beg of you to trust them (those who hold you dear) and to let them into your inner hidden shame-filled world. Because if you don’t, and trust me I am talking from experience here, it will go on to damage you and hurt you and destroy relationships that you should never have lost.
And even more than this, it will lead you to form relationships that you should never have begun and that will hurt and damage you even more deeply than I care to think of.
Kevin, dear sweet Kevin. How deeply I wish I could be there with you to hold you, hug you, guide you and help you find the healing that you so desperately need and so deeply desire.
I cannot begin to place into words, knowing now what lies in your future and my past if you do not get this letter, the sense of urgency that I feel in trying to change the course of life that you are on.
I desire so deeply for you not to go through what happens to you both in your very near future and beyond it and for you to NOT make those attempts that I know are going to come to try in an attempt to end it all. Not to mention those the decisions and actions that you take as a result of the misplaced feelings and beliefs that you mistakenly hold as being true.
Kevin, if you take nothing else from my words to you please, please, accept and believe what I am going to say to you next. Take my words, hold them in your heart and never let go of them…
“Life IS WORTH LIVING because YOU ARE WORTH LOVING and what is more YOU CAN BE LOVED and ARE LOVED despite the way you feel.”
Kevin, I know those words are difficult to hear and even harder to believe. But take it from me, (and let’s not forget that I am actually you – just and older and hopefully wiser and more experienced you) these words are true and the thoughts and feelings and voices – those hateful, harmful, deceptive and malicious, lying thoughts, feelings and voices – that you and I are so used to knowing and believing, are all wrong, so very wrong.
Kevin, I have to close this letter now. I wish so very much that I could write more, share more, show you more. And yet even as I have written the words I have just written, I have come to understand that actually a large part of who I am (who we are) today is in part as a result of what I have been through and what you may yet still go through.
There are so many things in my life that I am thankful for, and trust me Kevin, so many wonderful things that you have yet to experience. Love, marriage, parenthood, your ministry and the faith that I know you already have and yet don’t fully understand or appreciate.
Kevin, please trust me when I tell you that I know the things that you have done and I know the secrets of your heart – the questions, the confusions, the conflicts and the victories. The joys, the fears, the wounds, the guilts, the dreams, and the hopes that are all present there held safe and secure within.
Admit the things you have done sweet child, and accept the love and forgiveness that is offered in return. Trust your family no matter how hard that may seem right now. But trust your heavenly Father more. Because the years of love shared with them that you may lose as a result of not trusting them now can never be regained. Trust me I have tried.
And above all else please, please, know that nothing is greater than God’s love. Not those voices, those feelings, those thoughts, nor the guilt, the pain nor the hurt. None of them, whether individually or combined, are or could ever be greater than God’s love or God’s love for you.
With much love and deep hope,
Kevin. November 29th, 2011. Additions (in red) added December 12th 2012.
So there you have it my, albeit slightly amended, letter to a younger self.
As I said, I wrote the original version of that back in November of last year and I have to tell you that it was a painful experience then and (to a lesser extent) a painful experience now.
Did is serve a purpose then? Does it serve a purpose now? Well we are all different aren’t we but yes for me I believe it did and does.
As you will have possibly gleaned from reading that letter my mental illness had a direct impact on my young life and on the relationships that I did or didn’t form throughout my life. But there is one relationship which it had a huge impact on and that is my relationship with God.
So many of the wounds, the fears, the self-criticisms and so much of the self-hatred that came as result of my mental health and in some part from my unsuccessful attempts to end it all even as a child, had corrupted my perspective of my acceptability to God. So much of the relationship I struggled with in respect of my own biological father corrupted an distorted my understanding of the father-heart of God.
As I re-read that letter, as I reflected on it’s words and sentiments I reflected on the lessons that I have since learned and the healing that I have been blessed to have received in these respects. And in that alone it has served a purpose in helping me to affirm and cement the healing that I, that my inner child as received.
But there is, I hope, a greater purpose from this exercise and that i that if but one person – who is struggling with similar situations and hurts and fears – comes across this and benefits from it than it has been more than worth doing.
The other day I draw up, with the help of my daughter Nicky the above 12 day challenge and wishing to put my money where my mouth is, so to speak, I have been keen to take the challenge myself and to see how I get on with it.
Here is my response to day one’s challenge….
Day One -“She” (Or if you are male “He”) - Write a short story about someone who has just been diagnosed with your mental illness/condition and who is the age you were when you were diagnosed. What happened, what were they expecting, what are their feelings etc?
He…
He sat in the taxi, not physically alone, for his wife and son were with him, but mentally, emotionally, seemingly even spiritually alone and he knew it.
Within the hour he would perhaps, most probably even, know what had happened to cause him to come unraveled, to become undone.
Unraveled an undone. Yes they were good words. Horrible, rotten, revealing, naked, vulnerable, bad words but good for explaining for describing where he was at.
Questions and comments addressed to him as they journeyed towards the psychiatrist appointment echoed within the chasms of his mind as he journey back and forth between the urge to escape, the need to hide and the longing to understand.
To understand the very thing that he had hidden for as long as he could remember. The very thing that had begun in and that had tainted his own childhood and now some 30 odd years later was tainting his own child’s childhood.
The secrets of his mental illness – hidden for the past 30 odd years behind a mask of confidence and capability - had suddenly erupted, exploded, perhaps imploded, causing him to hide behind a closed bedroom door for the past 3 month and to steal himself from anyone and everyone even his own family, his own son.
As the car continued its journey towards the answers and his wife and son continued their conversation and comments of encouragement so too did his mind continue its journey into more and more questions and its conversation and comments of discouragement and of slanderous attack.
“They’re gonna lock you up” “They’re gonna put you away” the voices chanted and jeered. “All these years of running and for what? Just to fail and end up where you have always wanted never to be!”
His thumbs traced the furrows of his palms, skating off of the film of sweat that somehow seemed to be there.
“But I need to do this.” He silently screamed at the voices. “I have a son and a wife and they need me.”
“Yeah right” The voices screamed back “They need you like they need a dose of botulism!”
The car pulled to a halt outside it’s destination and he was helped out of it and led to a waiting room within the big old formidable house.
“Oh God,” his fears called out. “Will they see how damaged I am?”
The sense of panic was mirrored by the film of sweat on those palms he had been etching with his thumbs. Lines and furrows now flooded with sweat just as he himself was flooded with fear and apprehension.
“What would they ask?” “What would they ask his wife and his son?” “Would they even talk to his wife and son?” “Would they even talk to him?” “Is there survival from this point on?” “Is it even worth it?” Still the questions came. “What if they see the real me?” “Find the real me?” “Heck I can’t even see, can’t even find, don’t even know the real me!”
He heard his name being called and stood up looking at the doorway from whence it had come. “Is that the doorway to the rest of my life, or to the end of it as I know it?” He asked.
He glanced at his wife and son, there encouraging, concerned and loving faces pleading with him to believe.
To “believe”? To believe what? He didn’t even know what he believed anymore an belief had been a part of his life for even as long as his torment had been. “Did he still believe? Still believe there was any hope? Did that lack of belief speak of God or of him? Even in the depths of the torment he had never had trouble believing in God, but always in believing in him in God.
His eyes lingered before moving once more from looking at his wife and son back towards that doorway. How could he leave them, go through that doorway, and run the risk of not coming back?
How could he not leave them, not go through that doorway, and lose the chance to find his way back to them?
I think that is all I can write right now. It’s long, I know that and I apologize, and yet how can you write something shorter and do justice to the myriad of thoughts and fears and emotions and torments that took place.
In truth is has not been a place, a memory I really wanted to go back to and I am aware that I am left more out than I have put in.
But what is most painful to me is the look on the face of my son during that time and other times, back then. He was I think 9 perhaps 10 when this all took place. I can still see the look on his face at that time and at other times when he tried to reach out to me in the world within which I was trapped. But I thank God those times are behind us and that my son i who he is.
I thought that since all I seem to have done over the past few weeks is complete the 30 day challenge each week and work on my books, it was time for a real and normal post
And today was, as I have mentioned my appointment to see the psychiatrist. I hadn’t seen one since way back in June and so wasn’t sure what to expect.
Actually (and thankfully) the psychiatrist I saw was nothing like the one in the clipart above Instead it was a female psychiatrist from the french part of Canada and she was extremely nice and very approachable.
I will be honest with you here. Sadly, as a Christian with mental health issues, there are two types of people with whom I have learned to be hesitant about discussing my faith and mental health in the same conversation.
Psychiatrist and some Christians. And again sadly, I am sure I don’t have to labor the reasons why.
Go to a psychiatrist as some one who hears voices and share that you speak to God and three things will immediately rise. Their interest, their eyebrows and their pen.
Go to some Christians as someone who believes in and hears God and admit that you hear voices and instant diagnoses of demon possession and the need for immediate deliverance will result.
But thank fully the psychiatrist I saw today, although having her own faith, did neither of those things and we were able to have a sensible cohesive conversation with each other which included aspects of my faith. And trust me, since my faith is core to who I am, and thus no amount of help will be effective unless recognizing and respecting that, it was a welcomed change.
As a result of this I also fessed up to my struggles over my medication. My memory and focus difficulties often mean that I would forget to take my meds – folk who know me well will know the struggles that I have with these things – memory, focus and taking my meds.
Subsequently on realizing that I have forgotten to take my meds I would then decide to deliberately not take my meds, believing that since I haven’t taken them and seem ok I must not therefore need them.
Of course the keywords in that statement being “seem ok”, and often I am not ok. But I guess I am not alone in this and that others will be able to relate.
One difficulty is of course that in the past i have been medicated to such a degree that I am effectively being chemically lobotomized. Something I never want to experience as it affords no quality of life worth living and removes my ability to function let alone worship.
But we discussed this, the psychiatrist and I, and I have agreed to an increase in the dose of my psych meds on the condition that I retain control over whether or not I continue with the increase subject top giving it an adequate period of review.
I have to tell you, and I mean no disrespect to other psychiatric professionals here, but it is so refreshing to walk away from a consult actually feeling that you have been listened to and heard and that the primary purpose was not just the ticking of boxes and pushing of pills.
Day two of my 30 Day Challenge and I am up bright and early and sat looking at the screen, wondering what way to go with this one and asking the Lord for guidance.
Today’s question/subject (and remember I did not set the questions or subjects) is…
“Something you feel strongly about.”
My difficulty is that actually I do feel strongly about several things and choosing one of them is difficult….
As a Christian I feel very strongly about God and all matters relating to God.
As someone who suffers with mental illness I feel very strongly about mental illness and mental health awareness.
As a parent I feel very strongly about the Children’s Referendum happening here in Ireland today and how desperately wrong it would be if it was voted through. I truly believe that in seeking to give more power to the state it will remove some of the rights of the children to be parented and the rights of parents to parent.
But which one, if any, do I choose for the purpose of this exercise?
How about we talk about Family? Yep ‘Family’ – it is such an important issue isn’t it?
Family
I am a Christian. I make no apologies for it nor for the fact that it does in so many ways shape the way that I see things. When I write, I do so as someone fully aware that my thoughts, my attitudes, my understandings are shaped by my beliefs and that not everyone holds those same beliefs. And I absolutely respect the right of each person to hold their own beliefs just as I hold mine.
All I ask is that regardless of your personal beliefs you bear with me as you read through this.
‘Family’ has been so very central to the way in which we as a race has developed hasn’t it? It is or should be, as children and infants, the very foundation of the security from which we grow and develop.
In all manner of species we see the same thing don’t we? The young instinctively reaching out to, depending upon and finding identity and belonging in their parents. Finding comfort, protection, belonging, guidance in their parents and their kin?
Isn’t this the way that it is meant to be?
Let me share a couple of scriptures with you…
Palm 68:5-6 in the NIV read…
“5 A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. 6 God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.“
and Romans 8:14-16 in the NIV reads…
“14 For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. 15 The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” 16 The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children.“
A “father to the fatherless“, setting “the lonely in families“, “for those who are led by the Spirit of God are the Children of God“.
Yes, I am convinced that ‘family’ is not only extremely important but it is also God’s design for mankind.
I am convinced, and have been for such a very long time now, that the very structure of ‘family’ is God-designed and God-intended. And I would go even further as I am equally convinced that until we have fully understood the concept of family as God intended it we cannot fully understand God.
But of course we often speak according to our own experiences, and our own passions. And often our passions are based on that which we have personally struggled with the most.
So, in the interest of that honesty, openness and candor (which I determined to make a constant feature of my responses in this challenge), I have to admit that ‘family’ is something I have always struggled with personally.
My biological family, most of them, are still living and I would not wish to inflict any discomfort or harm upon them. Likewise in many ways they were no better nor any worse than most families, although certainly there were aspects of my family life which were extremely unusual and different to most when I was growing up.
What was different to most families however, was the fact that even as a child my mental health was not great. A direct result of which was that I knew that I was different and felt that I did not and could not belong.
Reflect for a moment or two, if you will, on those last words. “I was different and felt that I did not and could not belong.”
I wonder what comes to your mind, comes to your heart when you read those words?
Are you thinking what it must be like for a child to grow up with those feelings, with that understanding, with that perspective on his or herself and on life? Are you remembering what your childhood was like? The things that made you feel so accepted, made you confident that you belonged, or are you remembering how you too felt as if you didn’t fit in, didn’t belong?
Or perhaps your thoughts are more recent, more current than that? Perhaps you, like me, also suffer from poor mental health – after all there is a strong possibility of that since this is essentially a mental health based blog. Perhaps you also know only too well those feelings and thoughts, that internal dialogue, of being ‘different’, of not ‘fitting in’ of not ‘belonging’?
As a human and a humanitarian I am convinced that no child, no person, should have to suffer these feelings, these experiences unless their own willful and deliberate actions have placed them in that situation. And even then we need to be very careful don’t we?
As someone who suffers from poor mental health I know only too well how often these thoughts, these feelings, this internal dialogue, can come not from the evidence of actual reality but from the reality perceived as a result of that poor mental health. But I have to ask, “What then do we do? Accept that person’s perceived reality or try to understand why they have they perception and in turn increase the evidence of the actually reality?”
As a Christian, and one who ha suffered mental illness most if not all of my life, and one who has struggled with these; thoughts, these feelings, this internal dialogue, this perceived if not actual reality, I am convinced that this is NOT what God desires or intended.
It saddens me, truly saddens me, that so many of those whose blogs I read and who take time to comment and share on this blog have similar struggles that I do with acceptance, and belonging and with fitting in and with family.
But what saddens me even more, something which saddens me to my very heart, is how many seem to have lost out on experiencing true love and acceptance and belonging in God’s family.
I consider myself blessed, truly blessed. I have had a lifetime of experiencing such feelings, such thoughts, such internal dialogues, of experiencing a perceived and sadly in some case an actual reality of ‘being different’ of where I ‘did not belong’, of where I ‘did not fit’. But I have also had a lifetime of knowing God’s truth, His will and His desire in this respect and that in all of those I can ‘be different’, do ‘belong’, do ‘fit in’.
I consider myself blessed, truly blessed that I am now in a Christian fellowship where I feel and believe and where my perceived and actual reality is that I can be different and do belong and do fit in and am accepted. And I thank God for that and for them.
But what about you? What about the others? Those who still struggle with this and who have not yet found a family of believers where they too can belong, fit in, where there differences are not seen as an excuse to reject but a more reason to love?
I started this post trying to decide what I should write about when it came to something that I feel strongly about. My faith in God, mental health, or in the way in which if we are not careful in our actions in the current referendum in Ireland we will, in my opinion damage and even remove a child’s freedom to be parented and a parent’s freedom to parent.
Reading back over this post I see that I have actually written about all three. But there is a deeper message in all of this isn’t there? One that does include aspects of all three?
In writing about “Family” I have written about God as our loving heavenly Father and His family – the body of believers. I have written about how my poor mental health and my mental illness – how mental illness and poor mental health in general – can seriously affect our experience and understanding of family and of God and His desire and will for us.
And even more, I have written about how our perceptions, our actions and the perceptions and actions of others can seriously damage and even remove a child’s right to be parented and a parent’s right to parent. Our freedom to be loved of the Father, by and in His family, and His freedom to love us within His family.
Are we all not God’s Children? If we are God’s children, if we have recognized Him as our father do we not have the right to be loved, to be parented of that Father?
If Christ, if God’s Holy Spirit is within us and we reject each other, are we not rejecting the Christ, the Holy Spirit within each other are we not removing our freedom to be loved and parented and His freedom to love and parent us within the family He desires for us?
I end this post on that thought and with one final piece of scripture and a video to watch and listen to as you reflect on that scripture. And I end this post giving thanks not only for the personal struggles I have experienced in this respect but for the truth that has remained with me concerning His will and desire for us and thanks for the family that He has now placed me in.
And I end it on the fervent prayer that no matter what your experiences may have been you too will find and know the perfect love of the Father and a family, His family, to truly experience and know this in…
“31 “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. 32 All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33 He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
34 “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35 For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36 I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
37 “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38 When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39 When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
40 “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” (Matthew 25:31-40 NIV)
If you were to come into my home right now you would be forgiven for thinking that there was some sort of Christian concert going on!
The music is blaring out of the speakers and all the songs that reach me, speak to me, encourage and lift me are either playing, have already been played or are lined up in a play list.
Of course I am not actually dressed as the man in the image and I am not dancing the way he is. But the image amused me somewhat.
I haven’t posted anything noteworthy (excuse the pun) for a while now and the reason for this has been that I have been in a bit of a rut lately.
That can happen can’t it? Especially if you suffer from depression or a similar form of mental illness.
My physical health has been kicking my butt lately and so has my mental health. Not in an extreme way, not so extreme or even an obvious that I or others specifically noticed. No, in a subtle and more protracted way and those are often more dangerous aren’t they?
There have been one or two comments made by those who know me the best, and indicators that have been there and that in hindsight seem obvious. Comments and indicators which should have alerted me to the fact that I was not right.
But sometimes the nothingness is so thick that you don’t even pick up on these things.
My home, whilst still neat and tidy is not as neat nor as tidy as it usually is.
MY books and films etc are not as orderly in their shelves as they usually are. My OCD normally requires them to be extremely organized.
And on the same note my office is less orderly or organized.
I haven’t done any real studying lately.
I haven’t been writing or drawing or painting or doing anything creative lately.
I haven’t been posting or commenting or even emailing as much as I usually do.
And I don’t remember the last time I even played a CD or listened to a song outside of being at church.
And in truth one of the byproducts of living alone is that folk are not around you enough to notice these differences.
(Are you sat there reading this and saying to yourself, “Good grief Kevin how many indicators did you need?”)
It’s an understandable and valid question, but then that is the nature of the nothingness as I call it. And one of the byproducts of living alone is that there is no-one else there who would normally notice these things when you yourself can’t.
Yep, there is no doubt about it. I have been stuck in a rut and didn’t even realize it. One that, it seems, I didn’t just fall into one day but which I seem to have slipped into without noticing.
But no more! I am aware of it now and it is time to get up and get out and one of the quickest ways of doing so is to turn that rut into a groove and take back those things that this rut has taken from me.
Starting with my joy! For me, being a Christian, nothing brings me deeper joy than being able to lose myself in praise and worship.
There is, I am convinced a spiritual element to all things and my strength, I am also convinced, comes mainly from my spiritual life. Hence the Christian music blaring out of my speakers right now.
I see and know the truth that I have indeed been down. I recognize that now and I know that now. I also know that this, thanks to my mental and physical health is nothing new and that it has been a part of my life for so long now.
But more than this I know that despite it all I have access to great strength.
So having recognized that I prayed, and am still praying. Today is all about prayer and all about praise and worship.
All about walking in His strength and not in my weakness.
So it would appear that the Time Thief has been revisiting me.
For those of you who are unaware of who the ‘Time Thief’ is, that is the name I give to the experience of suddenly realizing that whole heaps of time seemed to have slipped away and having no idea where they have gone or what you have been doing during that time.
If you are interested in poetry, I wrote a poem about this way back in October 2011 and you can read or hear (simply visit the link provided and click on the arrow) that poem here. [Apologies for the poor recording, I think I had a cold at the time]
So I woke up this morning and decided that the first thing I wanted to do (after the obligatory coffee in order to make the world slightly acceptable) was do a little ironing.
I had to help arrange for an elderly neighbor of mine to go into hospital as he wasn’t doing so well on Tuesday and I noticed that he had some recently washed laundry in his washing machine. Knowing that this would have smelled and gone mouldy by the time he returns, I took it home to dry and iron for him. But having had poor weather it has taken longer to dry and I was feeling guilty for not having ironed it yet.
Putting the Television on to give me something to watch and listen to whilst ironing I was shocked and stunned to learn that today is actually Friday.
I have absolutely no idea where the week has gone. Actually what is even more disconcerting is the fact that I have little to no idea what I have done all week or huge chunks of it at least.
I do know that I was busy studying all Monday and then went out to Bible Study in the evening and I do know that on Tuesday a huge part of the day was occupied with helping my neighbor and talking with his family. I also know that I did manage to blog something on Wednesday and a friend came over late Wednesday evening but outside of those times I have no idea what I have been up to.
This really is most disconcerting as I know that there is so much that I really do want to get done and yet have done so very little of it. I haven’t even been reading and commenting on other bloggers’ posts as I normally do and that is so very unlike me too.
Additionally I started responding to comments and writing this post over two hours ago and it seems that my mind has developed some sort of run ahead dyslexia this morning whereby I am typing letters all of out of order, even now whilst writing this.
This means that I am spending as much time altering and correcting typing mistakes here and in comments and text and Viber messages as I am writing the actual messages or words themselves.
A quick check on my meds – which are sorted and dated into daily sets for me – in response to just such circumstances tells me I haven’t been taking meds either. Not good.
Time to pray and to try find some order and sense me thinks.
And on the positive side, which I always try to see, I am at least aware of it and can at least try to compensate for it and of course take my meds today.
Horrible aren’t they? They come like vermin and steal from you.
Nearly always without invite and all too often without reason they just show up and wreak havoc and then leave. Generally doing so leaving you confused, drained and very often anxious that they might return again soon.
Certainly that is what happened to me yesterday and I have to be honest it was so very tough.
Actually before this I was having a really good day. I had woken up early in the morning and had my normal cuppa before answering emails and then got on with some studying which was going very well.
Some very dear friends from my former Church text me and asked if I was up for a visit, which I of course was as I had not seen them for such a long time and always enjoy their company
Their visit went well and I then returned to some blogging and some more studying and then I went and rested and watched television for a little bit.
And then it hit me! Bang! The mood vermin descended
on me without warning and my mood crashed and with it my ability to think properly.
What happened for the rest of the evening I really couldn’t tell you. I do know that I went to bed at some point only waking up much later and with my general mood and ability to think properly pretty much being restored.
I also know that sometime shortly after my mood crashed I received a text from a friend telling me that they couldn’t take me to church this Sunday. This didn’t help my mood and mind crash any, but is perfectly understandable and I very much appreciate the times when they are able to take me to church.
At some point during what was to be a very unsettled night I answered emails and blog comments and as I said with my general mood and ability to think properly being pretty much restored.
I also know that I did shortly after this happened ask for prayer, and I am grateful for this and the fact that it no doubt helped.
Today I find that I am not quite right but way better than I was yesterday evening and I am of course so very grateful for that. The anxiety that I mentioned which often accompanies such an episode is of course with me but I am keen not to recreate the same crash as a result of it. If that make sense.
I often talk about the little man inside my head and explain that he sometimes gets things wrong, suffers from insomnia, confusion and the such. Last night, it seems, he was overrun with mind vermin. Hm perhaps I will have to buy him a cat
…raises public awareness about mental health issues. The day promotes open discussion of mental disorders, and investments in prevention, promotion and treatment services. This year the theme for the day is “Depression: A Global Crisis. 1
But how do you see Mental Health and Mental Illness?
Are you scared of it? Are you confused by it? Are you embarrassed by it? Concerned by it? Repelled by it? Perhaps like some you think it is a bit of a joke?
All of these reactions are normal but are they healthy or helpful?
Depression affects more than 350 million people of all ages, in all communities, and is a significant contributor to the global burden of disease. Although there are known effective treatments for depression, access to treatment is a problem in most countries and in some countries fewer than 10% of those who need it receive such treatment. 1
As I said, Depression is but one kind of mental illness and it affects so many people the world over. But there are many other mental illnesses. I myself am diagnosed with; Paranoid Schizophrenia, MPD/DID, Bipolar Disorder and Aspergers.
But I wonder, when it comes to Mental Illness and Mental Health, what is it that you think? How do you think about it? What do you see when you see or read something about Mental Illness or Mental Health?
When you see some one who is obviously suffering from some form of mental illness, what do you really see? The person or their illness and how it make them act or behave?
If you have never really thought about your attitude towards mental health, then I invite you to watch these two little videos and having done so to do spend a little time rethinking your attitude towards mental health and mental illness now…
These are two videos representing just two real-life experiences of the same illness.
It is worrying and understandably can cause some hesitation and nervousness in those who see this kind of reaction to the illness.
But I ask you… What do think it is like for those of us who suffer this? Those of us for whom, when the effects of this illness subside for a little while and we have face the realization of what we have done to others and ourselves?
Mental illness and Mental Health is very real and very important, but unless we can look beyond the behaviour and see the person, trapped in that behavior we will never fully understand Mental Health and never find true comprehensive solutions.
They were words that my mother no doubt said to me as a young boy and a message that I think most parents impart to their children at some point or another.
I think we would all agree that knives and children just don’t make for a good combination. So I wonder how you will respond to this little video…
Don’t worry no knife was hurt in the making of this film and thankfully neither was any child.
So how did watching that old video make you feel? Did the ‘near miss’ make your heart leap like mine did? Of course the film is very old (1950′s) and ‘things was different back then’.
But I can’t help wondering how many Health and Safety executives, or Child Protection agencies and workers, would be near to exploding if they saw such a thing today?
It just seems so wrong doesn’t it? So counter-intuitive. Throwing knives around when there are small children about. Let alone actually throwing knives at them – well virtually at them. Here’s a reasonable statement for you…
Knives can hurt! They can cut! They can pierce! They can stick! And they can scar!
Rational, caring, responsible people don’t go throwing potentially harmful words at small children, loved ones or other people or even around when they are in the vicinity.
We are more caring than that aren’t we?
Well what if we take ‘knives’ out of that statement and put ‘words’ in there in its place instead?
Words can hurt! They can cut! They can pierce! They can stick! And they can scar!
Rational, caring, responsible people don’t go throwing potentially harmful words at small children, loved ones or other people or even around when they are in the vicinity.
Oops! We appear to have a problem here, don’t we?
Whilst the first part of our new statement remains true, the second part – the part that speaks about how we behave – no longer rings so true, does it?
Sadly the truth is that sometimes we do go “throwing potentially harmful words at small children, loved ones or other people or even around when they are in the vicinity.“
Knives can hurt! If we jab or stab or slice or cut ourselves and can’t harmful words do the very same thing? Isn’t it true that often the damage they do is much deeper, often less easily seen and all too often much longer lasting?
Knives can cut! They can cut our skin but harmful words can cut even deeper can’t they?
Knives can pierce! They can pierce our skin and flesh and muscle and they can do untold damage but can’t harmful words do even more untold damage? Damage which often goes unseen? Isn’t it true that harmful words can pierce even our very heart?
Knives can stick! Didn’t we see that in that old video? But isn’t it true that harmful words can often stick deeper and longer?
Knives can scar! As a self-harmer trust me I know this is so very true. But don’t harmful words often scar, doing so much deeper and for much longer?
Ask any medical practitioner – nurse, doctor, etc – which they would generally rather treat, external bleeding or internal bleeding and I am pretty sure they would say external bleeding because it is easier to treat and often results from less serious damage tha internal bleeding does.
And the truth that lays behind that answer in respect of physical wounds is just as true of emotional, and psychological wounds.
So we have to I think ask ourselves, if we are deliberately responsible when it comes to knives, why are we so much less responsible when it comes to words?
This blog is about mental illness and I make no secret of my mental illness and the ways in which it affects or impacts me. I try my best to be as open as I can in the hope that it will not only benefit me but also help others who suffer from similar mental illness.
Being so open about my mental illness opens me up to all sorts of reactions and responses and trust me some of them are good and some are pretty bad. But I do so because I believe in the benefit of being open about it and because my faith and beliefs as a Christian prohibit me from living a lie. (Something which sadly I did for far too long in respect of my mental health.)
But being a Christian does not remove me from the same kind of attacks or unhealthy or unhelpful responses and reactions that many folk with poor mental health or who suffer with mental illness are subjected to.
One of the ways in which my mental health effects me, which is very relevant to this piece is that confrontations, disagreements, unhelpful or unhealthy comments seem to affect me more than most.
For some reason the voices in my head latch on to them, cling to them, focus on them. They, and my internal dialogue, repeatedly throw them back at me for days after the actual original statement was made by someone, or for days after the original confrontation or disagreement.
Monday evening I went to Bible study with a group of fellow Christians at the church I attend. During that evening I had a civilized and non-abusive disagreement with one of the other people there. Additionally one or two statements where made which truly unsettled me. And here we are on Wednesday afternoon and my mind has not been able to let this go.
I need to point out and make it very clear that no-one said anything rude or deliberately disrespectful and that I am convinced that no harm was deliberately intended. And yet harm was without doubt done to and possibly by me.
This is a group of loving, respectful and well-intentioned Christian brothers and sisters and still hurt happened. And that is the point isn’t it? That even in the most well intentioned and loving group and circumstances these things – being hurt by harmful words and hurting others by harmful or careless words – are still possible.
My faith has already enabled me to forgive that which was said and the harm that was done. My mind and my mental illness may be much slower at letting go of these things and no doubt will continue to use them against me.
All I can do in that regard is stand on 2 Corinthians 10:5..
5 We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (NIV)
But I do also recognize my own weaknesses and failings in all of this and I do unreservedly apologize for any time when my words have been careless and harmful and have caused hurt to others.
And I do also want to encourage us all to be careful with our words and to remember that they all too often can be just as, if not more, dangerous as the sharpest knife.
If I had to describe my current mental health status using weather terms that would be the description that I would currently use as it is the most fitting that I could think of at this time.
“Overcast with a forecast of inclement weather”
Not a very positive report I know. But then I like to keep things real and I am acutely aware of my mental health and how it affects me and as I said, I couldn’t think of a more accurately descriptive report.
The thing is that whilst it give some information about what is happening right now and indeed does carry with it some warning of what is likely to come it doesn’t commit to anything too specific. Does it say tornadoes, hurricanes, whirlwinds, gales, etc? No. It just says that what is to come is likely to be stormy, tempestuous and severe.
The thing is that I just don’t know what is to come. I just know how I am at the moment – hence the “overcast” statement and I just know what feeling like this, being like this, normally leads to.
But we all get times like this don’t we? Times when we feel that there is little to no sunshine in our lives or even on the immediate horizon? Times when, for no apparent reason we get a sense of impending doom?
I mean surely those things, those feelings, those thought processes, are not unique to those of us who suffer from poor mental health or with mental illness? No of course they aren’t but here’s the deal.
When you do suffer from poor mental health or from mental illness, and know how that poor mental health or mental illness plays out in your life, those feelings – those thought processes, are usually far more accurate and are usually indicators that all is not right within and trouble is indeed in store.
Sadly, what they don’t often come with is specific indications as to just what kind of inclement mental health weather is to come.
Physically I am run down at the moment and, as the trip to the doctor today has confirmed I have indeed had flu for the past few weeks and on top of that also have a sinus infection.
I am very much aware of this and I am very much aware that this is affecting my overall poor physical health, sleep patterns and general mental health. LIkewise I am also aware that one of the conditions that I suffer from is paranoid schizophrenia. Impending doom and paranoia are close relatives in my experience and I also need to bear that in mind.
But I find myself extremely agitated an anxious at the moment and I find myself very much on edge. I want to sleep and hope the whole thing goes away, but know that sleep avoids me once again.
I want to reason this whole thing out with logic but find myself in that heelish place where I can reason enough to work out things are not right but not so much that I can reason my way beyond that or out of that. I dislike this particular place of confused and impaired mental agility and in response to that comes the temptation to self-medicate to such a degree where reason is no longer possible. But then isn’t that what the voices want?
My faith of course assures me that I will get through this and yet that same faith and assurance condemns me to go through it and not to give in.
I came across this song the other day and it really spoke to me. To be honest it isn’t the kind of song that I would normally listen to. As a music lover I have a very wide and eclectic taste in music but as a Christian I have great passion for good Christian music and so tend to listen to that more than anything else.
When you have a faith but are isolated a lot of the time, Christian music can become more of a life-line for your faith than a mere distraction or entertainment.
But as I said I came across this song by Bonnie Raitt and it really spoke to me.
Why? Well why does any song speak to you? Because the lyrics speak of something so very close and so very personal to me.
Mental Illness and poor mental health can have such a varied impact on our live and also on our relationships can’t they? I certainly know that mine has. SO I thought I would share this song with you. Hey it isn’t that often that I share songs – although I do like to do so every now and again.
And I think instead of explaining in detail just why it speaks to me, I will copy and paste the lyrics after the song and let the words simply speak for themselves.
But I hope that you enjoy the song, and if it speaks to you, perhaps you will let me know and share a little of that.
I Can’t Make You Love Me.
Songwriters: REID, MICHAEL / SHAMBLIN, ALLEN
Performing Artist: Bonnie Raitt.
Turn down the lights, turn down the bed
Turn down these voices inside my head
Lay down with me, tell me no lies
Just hold me close, don’t patronize – don’t patronize me
Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t
Here in the dark, in these final hours
I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no you won’t
‘Cause I can’t make you love me, if you don’t
I’ll close my eyes, then I won’t see
The love you don’t feel when you’re holding me
Morning will come and I’ll do what’s right
Just give me till then to give up this fight
And I will give up this fight
Cause I can’t make you love me if you don’t
You can’t make your heart feel something it won’t
Here in the dark, in these lonely hours
I will lay down my heart and I’ll feel the power
But you won’t, no you won’t
‘Cause I can’t make you love me, if you don’t.
Suicide and Self-harm discussed in general within this post. Whilst all caution has been taken in the writing of this post reader caution is also advised.
I wonder if you have ever wanted to send a parcel or letter or message at work and been asked, as part of the office mailing system to “Please Indicate Priority Level” as part of that system.
In fac t setting priorities is something that most of us do most days and a lot of times without even having to consciously think about it.
But what makes one thing a priority over something else and indeed what changes something from being a priority to be urgent?
After all, whilst there are common criteria which we all use isn’t it also true that sometimes we have our own personal criteria which others may not agree with.
Take for these following scenario and statements for example.
In this scenario you have a friend who has mental health issues and can as a result of them be quite demanding on you and your time.
Naturally this in turn places you under a great deal of pressure in respect of your other obligations and so you have to decide which of the following statements your friend makes you need to respond to immediately – the urgent ones if you will, which you need to respond to fairly quickly but not right away necessarily – a priority but not urgent, and which you can safely respond to when you have a little more time…
Here are the statements, simply place them in order of priority…
A ) Feeling blue
B) Doesn’t want to go on living.
C) Feeling suicidal
D) Feeling like life isn’t worth living anymore.
E) Feeling kind of ok but not quite right.
F) Feeling like I want to hurt myself
G) I don’t feel anything
H) Feeling ok thanks.
Its a difficult choice to make isn’t it?
How about we change the scenario a little? What if instead of how you are going to respond to a friend and his or her feelings and subsequent statements, we instead make those your feeling and your statements. How would you prioritize them now?
After all, let’s be honest here, if you look at that list and place them in order from least urgent to most urgent it is very easy to see that actually those statements can so easily lead into each other and one can very quickly change to another.
As someone who experiences all of the mindsets behind those statements and as who, I am sure, made all of those statements from time to time I can testify how easily an quickly one mindset can lead to another.
Today the blogosphere or more precisely the mental health section of the blogosphere is awash with Suicide related posts and rightly so since today (Sept 10th 2012) is World Suicide Prevention Day.
Whilst this is all about awareness, for me, the key word in all of this has to be Prevention. Very often recognizing any progressions in our mental health can be an essential to preventing escalations in it.
And when it comes to suicidal thoughts I know first hand how, for me at least and I am sure for others, those mindsets and thought processes that I have listed within our statements above can lead into each other and cause those dangerous escalations.
I need to be clear here. Self-Harming isn’t always linked to suicide or suicidal thoughts and it is possible for those who do Self-Harm to not even consider Suicide, just as it is possible for those who consider suicide not have ever considered or practiced Self-Harm.
But for those of us who do struggle with Self-Harm, and Suicide Ideation the risks are obvious and the risks of escalations in poor mental health or harmful mindsets are just as real for all of us.
Having the wrong approach to our thought processes. Not dealing with them when they need addressing. Not seeking help when it is needed and available or not finding help when it is needed and our normal help sources are not available can all be so very harmful. Even and especially when you don’t feel we deserve or are not worth that help.
So I am going to display our list of mindsets and statements again and ask you to do something for me.
Looking at our list identify the statements and mindsets which you are familiar with and decide on healthy responses to them and the priority of responses needed.
A ) Feeling blue
B) Doesn’t want to go on living.
C) Feeling suicidal
D) Feeling like life isn’t worth living anymore.
E) Feeling kind of ok but not quite right.
F) Feeling like I want to hurt myself
G) I don’t feel anything
H) Feeling ok thanks.
And once you have done that – how about making a commitment to do all you can to afford yourself those responses from now on?
Because no matter what you have done or how you have feel about yourself I am convinced that there is hope, that you are and can be worth it, and that affording yourself and taking the right responses can prevent so much hardship.
And I am convinced that making our own well-being a priority in our lives is all part of the doorway to better mental health.
I am sure you probably have, or at least know of the game.
You build a tower comprising of alternating layers of blocks (normally 3 across) and then take turns removing a block each and replacing it at the top of the tower.
In time the top blocks become the bottom blocks and so it goes on until the tower falls or is knocked down as a result of instability.
Actually it can be great fun, although not a good game for the less steady handed amongst us, and I am sure has provided a lot of good clean entertainment for many a family.
But what if instead of blocks they were experiences and what it instead of a tower it was a life – your life that we were dealing with?
In the game of Jenga the more blocks which are removed and replaced the more unstable (unless you are extremely cautious) the tower becomes and thus the longer the game goes on.
Blocks are placed slightly askew or in the wrong place and this in turn adds to the instability of the tower and increases the chance of it coming crashing down.
Of course within the game you don’t have the freedom, on spotting a block or blocks which is making the tower unstable, of going back and replacing or repairing it in order to stabilize your tower.
(It would after all kind of defeat the purpose of the game) But is that, does that, have to be true of our lives and those experiences that we spoke of earlier?
Oscar Wilde, the Irish writer and poet, once said…
One’s past is what one is. It is the only way by which people should be judged.
It’s an interesting position isn’t it? Not one that I entirely agree with it has to be said, although I do have some sympathy with the idea that we are, at least in part, made up from our pasts.
But then the same Oscar Wilde also said…
Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.
This is something which I more fully agree with, although it could be argued that the two quotes are almost somewhat contradictory.
Isn’t it true that sometimes our pasts can sometimes alter our perceptions or indeed do sometimes come back to haunt us in life? Sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worst?
For me personally I fully believe that the past is a ghost which has a voice in our present only as much as we allow it that voice.
And like all ghosts we need to be very careful just what voice we do actually afford it.
But we also need to remember, I think, that like all ghosts it is not always seen even if it is there, and even when it is having an effect on our present.
How many of us have had experiences in the past which still haunt our dreams? Experiences that are the fuel of panic attacks and the playground of our nightmares?
But what about the less obvious, the less dramatic and yet just as harmful effects? How many of us have taken on board the labels or attitudes or self-images that where repeatedly thrown at us throughout our childhoods?
I know I certainly have, and I am fairly certain I am not the only one.
The truth is that unlike our game of Jenga, where we do not have the freedom to revisit those blocks which are causing our towers to go slightly askew or become unstable, in life we can revisit those experiences which are or have sent our lives or our perceptions askew and which are making us unstable.
Isn’t this the very essence of a lot of therapy?
The English writer Leslie Poles Hartley (1895-1972) once wrote these words…
The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.
Well whilst I might agree with him in respect of human history and of society, I have to say that in terms of our individual pasts sometimes it is an invader who forces us to do things differently here.
The question we are left with therefore are, in respect of our own life, for the sake of both our present and our future, are we aware of that invasion and what are we going to do about it?
The fact that suicidal thoughts and ideation has been part of my life since early childhood is no secret and I have written about it on this blog several times before.
It is a subject dear to my heart as it is a very real spectre that can haunt the mind of many a person. Not only those of us who suffer from poor mental health, but many a person and it can and has also cast very dark shadows over the lives of those who have lost a loved one through suicide.
World Suicide Prevention Day 2012 is on September 10th this year and it is something I am encouraging everyone to get involved in.
The world Health Organisation state that…
The number of lives lost each year through suicide exceeds the number of deaths due to homicide and war combined.
Its a staggering statistic isn’t it? And we need to be very mindful that this is also a very real threat to many of our young people.
So why not get involved?
One way is to light a candle at or near a window on September 10th at 8pm. to show your support for Suicide prevention, to remember a lost loved one, and for the survivors of suicide.
And there are other ways in which you can get involved and show your support, especially if you have a mental health blog.
Why not reblog this post or write your own piece in support of this important issue?
I am also going to be placing some resources on the Mental Health Writers Guild Recourses page which you are welcome to use. Or alternatively why not visit the links below for further details.
Growing up as a boy, which appeared to be a totally acceptable way to grow up since I was a boy, I of course had a media diet of action-packed, sports packed and crime-packed shows.
Of course in those days, things were more clearly defined. Goodies were good and wore white or carried badges, and baddies were bad and wore black and carried bags with ‘swag’ written on them. (Ok perhaps not the bag of swag part so much but you get the idea.)
Ah yes things were more clearly defined in those days. Good was good, bad was bad and there were far less grey areas in life.
Even in the crime shows the cops were good and robbers were bad and you seldom saw a cop being bad or even being considered bad.
Likewise when one of them messed up, crashed into a passing car during car chase, or reversed into something it wasn’t because the cop made a mistake it was because there was a ‘blind spot’.
And the same went for the Lone Ranger and Tonto, or for ‘Rocketman’ or ‘Superman’ or ‘Mighty Mouse’ or all the other heroes fed to me in my childhood. Whenever a baddie got the better of one of them it was usually ‘from behind’ or as a result of ‘a blind spot’ in their line of sight.
No way could it have been as a result of a mistake or some imperfection in our ‘heroes’.
Of course in real life no one is perfect and we all mess up from time to time don’t we? And likewise ‘blind spots’ are an everyday fact of life aren’t they? How many times have you been maneuvering your car or trying to parallel park or reverse into a space and been aware of a ‘blind spot’?
But then some ‘blind spots’ can be less obvious and far more serious can’t they?
What about the ‘blind spots’ we may have about our mental health? The things that others see but we just can’t seem to grasp or see for ourselves or even accept or see when they are pointed out?
I think there is a huge difference between being ‘in denial’ over something and ‘having a blind spot’ in respect of something, although I cannot help wondering if indeed an initial denial can lead to something becoming a ‘blind spot’? I am also wondering if repeatedly suppressing and emotion or thought can lead to such ‘blind spots’?
And I am seriously questioning whether my ‘isolation’ and my relative ease at being alone and isolated isn’t all part of this?
You see honesty, integrity, and respect are such important things to me and I really do try to be mindful of them in my everyday dealings with folk. (Yes I know sometimes I fail miserably in this, but I do try.) And so they must also be important in my dealings with myself.
I have often written about the isolation that I experience and indeed the fact that I just don’t experience loneliness other than perhaps once a year when my daughter has visited and then only for a short while after she has gone.
Emotionally it doesn’t seem to affect me at all. Mentally it doesn’t seem to bother me (although I am open to the suggestion that it might be having a subtle longer term effect) Physically it really doesn’t bother me – I am not very sexually minded/motivated and am physically so large and obese that on the rare occasions in which I do get a hug they often either confuse me or put me in mind of a leprechaun trying to death grip an elephant. Spiritually my isolation concerns me only to the extent that I wonder if it is really God’s will for me. And intellectually I ponder over the effect it is having on me.
I am neither agoraphobic, nor socially awkward, nor do I have any diagnosed or instantly obvious social anxiety disorder and actually usually have fun on the rare occasions when I do go out. But in terms of my isolation I have to tell you that I can sometimes go weeks without physically speaking to a single soul and on a normal 168 hour week would probably be in face to face contact with other people for a total of perhaps 6 hours.
Its a staggering statistic isn’t it? Of a normal 168 hour week I am probably physically alone for about 162 hours of it. And yet it only bothers me either intellectually or spiritually to the extent that I wonder if I am not seeing something here.
When looking for a picture which best represented my isolation I found this oil on board painting by Karen Thompson over on the Paintings I Love site.
And I have to say that I love the painting and think it to be excellently done and extremely expressive. BUT as much as I love it I love it for it’s artistic merit it doesn’t reflect my isolation.
Actually I really don’t think I will find the picture I want and don’t really have time to draw one at the moment so I will give up looking. But I did want to open this whole thing up on my blog and to invite your comments on my isolation ad whether you think this is a possible ‘blind spot’ or not.
As I said my isolation only bothers me to the extent that it really doesn’t bother me but wonder if it should and thus might be a ‘blind spot’.
And I want to invite you also to comment on any possible ‘blind spots’ that you may feel you have in your life as a result of your mental health.?
Hindsight it a funny thing isn’t it? I would, if I were a betting man – which I am not, lay odds that most of us can look back to circumstances or behaviours in our childhood which we now see as clear indicators or something else.
I remember a few years back when ADHD became more prominent in the media and how so many adults considered the possibility that they themselves may have had it but gone undiagnosed as a child. I was tempted as a result of it to belief that ADHD stood for ‘As Does Hindsight Demonstrate’.
The fact is of course, that such thought processes were perfectly natural if ot always correct.
For example here’s a picture which sums up part of my childhood – well my school days at least.
And I bet I am not alone in this am I? Hours spent looking out of the school room window day-dreaming away the mundaneness of the lessons they were trying to teach me.
Which often resulted in this kind of comment (And yes this an actual scan of the comments my head master wrote on my report card way back in 1972 when I was 10.)
Or this one from the previous year and made by my form teacher…
And of course comments such as these always led to my having many a sore butt as a result of them. Although my taking a report card which said, “Could do better” and writing the words, “not with you as my teacher!” understandably earned me both a whuppin at school and also a further major whuppin at home. (Despite the fact hat is was a totally accurate comment.)
Actually, whilst I never, as far as I am aware, had ADHD, I did have mental health issues back then and the lapses of concentration were without doubt an indication of that. And interestingly only once did they and the other indicators lead to my being referred to a psychiatrist at that age.
Readers of this blog will know only too well how those “lapses in concentration are still present and still affect me today as does lapses in memory.
So much so that I am thinking of having the follow t-shirt which I designed printed up.
And even if hindsight does demonstrate something (a mental illness for example) which is still a part of your life today the beauty of hindsight is that you have had the time in between to develop new skills, talents and experiences.
Which of course is where I am today.
So today sees me trying to compensate for that lack of memory and focus or concentration and trying to establish some routine and order in my life. Yet again!
I say yet again as this is a running battle with me and sometimes I seem to lack the discipline required to stick with the routines that I try to set in place in order to combat that chaos.
But I am not going to get disheartened. It is part of my illness and I accept that and no matter how many times the plan goes awry I know that it does benefit me when it is working and so is worth working for.
It has been building up for weeks now. Or should that be it has been crumbling for weeks now? Sometimes it is hard to tell isn’t it? I mean whether the fog-filled attack is building or whether the strongholds of defense have been weakening?
Logically is it not true that it actually both are correct and that it is a combination of each of them?
I was holding my own. Managing to stay strong. Keep fairly positive. Pretend (at least to others) that it wasn’t as bad as it was.
But attacks come, sadly often from those who are meant to support and encourage you. Those who are meant to know better. Names that you are called in the heat of the moment and yet which cut with cold searing pain that lasts long beyond the moment. Folk you respect and care for pointing out time and time again how it is your fault that relationships didn’t last or work out. How you were the one who failed.
It is the tragic irony of memory problems, well for this sad fool at least that I all too often don’t remember the stuff that I want to, need to, remember and yet can’t forget the stuff that it is unhealthy not to forget.
Like some retro vynal playing it’s scratchy echo over and over again in my brain the tormentors howl and with them the demons prowl.
Demons – memories and vivid flashbacks of experiences long since had and yet frequently, constantly refelt in the chasms of the nightmares.
Confusion that envelopes me and tries to consume me. Yes you may have caused me hell in trying to write this but I will win through no matter how many mstakes i have to correct, edits i need to make.
Urges that are neither healthy nor helpful and which seek only to cut and scar and with each mark to add guilt and shame to the already stacked deck of involuntary self-perecution.
Torments that replay the names called, the accusatory labeling of failure and add to them that others, all others, think these things of you even if they don’t speak them out.
But then that is what paranoid schizophrenia is isn’t it?
Temptations to ‘just let go’, ‘give up’, ‘end this farse’. Are yes I know your name, recognize the shadow that you cast all too often, see you as both tormentor and demon. Suicidal thoughts I know thy name and am familiar with your ways. But you will not have me this night. No not tis night.
I am tired, so desperately tired. But I won’t sleep in your lair. No but I will defy you in your nest, you and all the other demons, all the other tormentors that come to me in the madness and the silence of the night. Yes I will defy you, cut and scar all you like, mark me with pain and brand me with guilt I will find healing and cleansing and forgiveness. Maybe not this night, maybe not this world, maybe not this life, but certainly in the next. And I will damn you by not rushing towards it.
What would you do if you were to be walking through a busy shopping centre one day and there in front of you amidst the hustle and bustle of shoppers pushing past each other you spied a small boy stood all alone and looking lost?
Would your heart go out to him?
Would you stop and try to help? Would you simply walk on for fear that someone might think you were up to no good were you to stop and try to help him?
Would you immediately go off to find a shop assistant or security officer or police officer and alert them? Would you simply think it someone else’s responsibility and go about your business not giving it another thought apart from perhaps a casual one later?
The truth is that any one of those responses are possible aren’t they? The fact is that any one if not all of them would have been taken by people in exactly that situation. And even if you heart did go out to that lonely lost looking boy in a crowd have you ever thought why that is?
Can you empathise with the boy in that situation? Feel sorry for him? Compassionate towards him? Protective of him?
What if we changed the scenario slightly? What if instead of a small boy stood all alone looking lost he was a grown man stood all alone looking lost?
Does your heart still respond in the same way? Do you still feel that concern, that compassion, that protectiveness towards him? I mean what has actually changed here?
Do his adulthood remove some of the fear, some of the potential danger in this situation?
You are still the same. The crowds are still the same. Arguably the situation and circumstances have changed. But just how much have they changed?
Is he no longer alone? Is he no longer lost? Is he no longer vulnerable? At risk?
What if we made the man older?
Has the potential for him to be; lost, alone, vulnerable, at risk returned?
Again we have to ask the question what has changed here? The boy being lost and alone stirs up all these feelings which are in many ways removed by the boy being older and being man. But add even more years and those feelings, that compassion and fear for his safety might somehow return.
Why? Could it be because we expect someone who has reached those adult years but not yet reached those older adult years to be more competent? More capable?
But how do we know that?
What if that man – that man who has reached adulthood but not yet become elderly – has mental health issues that are not readily noticeable?
What if he is just as lost, just as alone, just as confused, just as scared, just as vulnerable as that young boy or that elderly man? What then?
I am of course not suggesting that every time we see a grown man or woman stood alone in the middle of a crowd we have to go up and approach him. Nor of course am I suggesting that every grown man or woman stood in a crowd has mental health difficulties.
And for the record nor am I suggesting that all elderly people are frail and in need of help.
But what I am suggesting is that mental illness is not always obvious in a person and that it can be experienced by folk of all different backgrounds, ages, genders, and circumstances of life.
And what I am very much suggesting is that very often when mental illness is present in a person’s life it sometimes takes that person beyond usual or common experiences and circumstances and because of that we all need to be able to look beyond what we first see. Beyond our usual or common understandings and expectations and to adjust our picture and our responses accordingly.
Perhaps it is because I am a Christian or perhaps it is because I live in such a wonderfully beautiful country. But either way I can honestly tell you this, I have looked at and witnessed many a hell but not one of them can be as staggeringly impressive as the heaven made by the creator of the landscape I have witnessed this week and share with you now.
The place is called the Mahon Falls and we went there a couple of days ago. It is part of the Comeragh Mountains, in County Waterford and I so very much love this place. And we were blessed that on the day we went the local search and rescue helicopter was out doing drills and I managed to catch it in a couple of shots. It was so impressive and indeed was totally appropriate in it’s purpose and yet somehow it was so out of place next to such natural landscape. The whole area is a place of natural beauty not man-made construct.
And the drive up to it was often nearly as breath-taking as the views once you have arrived. Winding open roads gave way to pretty tunnels through over-hanging tree branches and hedgerows. Nature’s Cathedrals we call them.
Old dry stone walls (those constructed without mortar or cement) line the routes. And nature provides an honor guard welcoming us ever closer. Up ahead the mountains wait, not so much for our arrival but in simple testimony to their creator.
Truly magnificent are the only words I have to describe the views.
And local wildlife roam free and seemingly without a care.
And as you draw close to the destination, the falls themselves (seen here in the centre of the above pic) offer a peace and tranquility to welcome you. Pulling the car over to a standstill we simply sat and looked all around us. Unspoiled by commerce, industry, urban culture or ways. Unspoiled, if you will, by man. And that same wildlife looks on at you as if to say, “Here you are the trespassers.” Miles and miles of raw nature lays at peace with itself and it’s creator. And as we made our way through this wonderful place I could not but help ask myself how many of us can make the same claim? To be at peace with our creator? In this setting the mental illness and turmoil inside my head seemed as out-of-place as a beak on donkey. Here creation found both a natural order and a predestined presence. I am not, by personality, taken to the great outdoors as a rule, I like my comfortable living. But the solitude and tranquility this place offered made wonderful companions I must admit.
So much of what I share in this blog is about turmoil and hardship and the battle that I, like so many of us, face with our mental health and there is without doubt a place and a need for that.
But here in this place my spirit groaned and reached out to our heavenly Father – the creator of all that was laid out before me and which I now share through the photos that I took that day. (Try clicking on one and seeing all its beauty in the enlargement that should come up. And then click back and check out the next one.) As my awareness of the ever-present turmoil that my mental health presents to me gave way to the recognition of my spirit groaning to be heard. The words of Romans 8:22 came to my mind…
“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.” (Romans 8:22 NIV)
How long have those mountains, that terrain, those rocks been groaning in testimony to their creator, to our creator? And as the search and rescue helicopter carried out yet another sweep across the horizon before me it’s smallness reminded me that even in the magnitude of our achievements we could never be anything more than children playing in the garden of our God and our Father.
Many of you will know how blessed I have been lately to have had the opportunity to get out of the house for a change and to go visiting different places within Ireland – the country I now call home and which I love so dearly.
That is not to say I don’t still love my native and original country England because of course I still do. As the numerous evenings recently spent viewing the 2012 Olympics and cheering on sportsmen and women from both of my home countries – Great Britain and Ireland will no doubt prove.
But that is the funny thing about ‘home’ isn’t it. It is, as they (or I think more accurately Gaius Plinius Secundus did) say ‘where the heart is.’ And home is something which I have been giving a lot of thought to of late.
For me to claim to be ‘a simple man with simple needs’ would perhaps be a little inaccurate if I am being truly honest and truly objective and in some was I am ‘a complicated man but with simple needs’. I accept that and I accept that two of those needs are ‘home’ and ‘family’.
And yet am I so different in this? Are these not two things which we all in some way or another yearn for – either in reality of experience or in expectation of what they should be?
They (home and family) are also, it could I think be argued, two things which we can sometimes take for granted.
I am blessed to have a wonderful home here in Ireland and not one but two, even three, wonderful families. My biological family back in England, my adopted family spread across the world but mainly in the UK, America and Canada and my third family, the family of bloggers for whom I have such passion and love.
But what if life presented me with the need to pull away from and leave behind the home and family that I loved so much?
Let me show you a picture…
Pretty isn’t it? The other afternoon Tony and I went out for a little drive in search of a fairly local castle. I had heard of it’s existance but never seen it. On our drive we passed a clearing in the roadside hedgerows through which I spotted this little stretch of the River Derry (above).
It was right next to this pretty little bridge (above) and anyone who knows me well will know that I love rivers and bridges and so we stopped so that I could take these photographs.
I also noticed this little engraved stone (below) and the heading on it interested me greatly.
‘Gate of Tears’ the inscription read and as I said this really interested me as we drove past it so Tony very kindly agreed to reverse up so that I could take a closer look and possibly photograph it.
What I read was truly touching and extremely beautiful…
The years are 1845-1847 and terrible destruction had hit Ireland due to a great famine as a result of the potato blight. So much devastation was brought to this beautiful country that many were forced to leave the homes and family behind and emigrate to England and especially America in order to find hope of surviving.
This stone marked the spot where many of those “emigrants from Clenegal Parish had their last view of their native valley and the Wicklow Hills, here too they made their final goodbye to their relatives.“
There is a chilling beauty in those words isn’t there? As I said, they really touched me and I suspect they will touch you too.
As I said before, I am blessed. In truth I have never experienced such a famine and in truth I probably never will, despite how the world’s economy seems to be going.
And as I said before I have a wonderful home and two, even three wonderful families. But has that always been the case?
I may not have experienced famine but I have certainly experienced homelessness and I have certainly, in the past, left my family behind.
Mental illness can do that to someone. It can cause you to do things other folk might never consider, to see things or perceive things in a way others seldom seem able to understand. And it can seem to remove or place out of reach those things which we so desperately need to survive – assurance, acceptance, belonging, security, love.
Yes, many years ago when I was a young man all of those things seemed so very far out of reach for me and I left my home and family behind and went to live rough on the streets of England.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying they were not there, nor that they were actually out of reach, but thanks to my mental illness that is how they seemed and when something appears so obviously out of reach how likely are you to reach for it?
In truth I am older now, and much more experienced, and hopefully a little wiser. But even now I struggle to feel that assurance, that acceptance, that belonging, that security, that love which I spoke of. I know of course that it is there and the rational part of me, the calm, clarity based, clear thinking and logical part of my mind tells me all those things are there.
But as much as they do, my mental illness and if I am honest sometimes the poor behaviour and judgment and comments and actions of others (and especially those they do and try to excuse through my mental illness) so regularly tell and show me differently.
As I said, I am older now, and much more experienced, and hopefully a little wiser. And as I said before I have a wonderful home and two, even three wonderful families in my biological family back in th UK, my adopted family in the UK, USA and Canada and my blogging family stretched th world over.
When I read that stone my heart went out to those emigrants who left in search of hope and to their family members that they had to leave behind. As I write these words, my heart goes out to all of you and I hope and pray that you know how very special you each are and how important and essential family truly is.
As I said, I have never experienced famine but I do, as a result of my mental health, know what losing family is like. No matter how hard it may seem, no matter how difficult the struggles, I hope and pray that not one of will let mental illness (or a poor response to it) be the reason to lose family members, or each other.
It is my fervent hope and prayer that our mental health will never be allowed to become our ‘Gate of Tears’.
I wonder what your body-image is like or indeed to opinion of nudity it? Are the two related perhaps?
As an artist I have developed an appreciation for many forms of art and have over the years tried my hand at a few different forms too.
Art communicates in way that words sometimes cannot and as a writer I have no reservation in admitting that. Often, actually very often, a piece of art will inspire more questions than it provides answers for. Likewise what I see in a piece of art you might not see and vise versa.
Take for example this piece of art which is actually a bronze sculpture of a nude which is commercially available from AllSculptures.com and which I would seriously like to own one day.
What do you see in this sculpture?
A man embracing himself? Someone in need of physical warmth? Physical contact?
Perhaps a man who is so overcome with the realization that he is indeed loved that his only response was to portray that love in a communication of self-acceptance, self-embrace?
Or perhaps you see something different?
A man who is ashamed of his nakedness? Lowered to his knees, covering his own shame in front of his God or perhaps his peers or maybe even his captors?
What emotions, feelings do you see portrayed? Warmth? Compassion? Love? Humility? Vulnerability? Shame? Pain? Slavery?
It is interesting isn’t it? How we all see things slightly differently (or even greatly differently) from each other.
Perhaps the nudity of the sculpture embarrasses you a little. It would embarrass some folk I know. And I for one make no judgement of that. Who knows that nudity might be the very thing you feel most appealing about it.
Personally is doesn’t worry me in the least bit. I have long since been convinced that we have nudity all wrong when it comes to our understanding and approach to it.
Don’t get me wrong. I am all for being conservative in these things and would by no means consider myself a naturist or a hedonist or someone who would advocate us all walking around publically naked. But nor do I believe that we should be ashamed of our own bodies or indeed our own nudity when in private.
And I do so very firmly believe that society sends out and teaches the wrong messages about nudity and that we have in many ways long since lost the ability to appreciate the naked body without assigning some sexual context to it.
So consider these questions if you will…
Look at that picture again for me but this time imagine the man dressed in some way. You can choose the attire he is dressed in.
How is he dressed in the image in your mind? (Feel free to participate and comment below)
Would it be as appealing to you as a sculpture or perhaps more appealing? (Again please feel free to participate and answer or comment on any of these questions or points by commenting below)
How does the message, the meaning, the feel of the piece change now that he is in some way dressed?
Has it lost some of it’s beauty, it’s rawness, it’s intimacy? Has it gained or lost some of it’s innocence?
What if we were to keep the nudity of the figure and indeed keep the same position or pose of our figure, our sculpture, but this time change the model.
What if instead of that well defined, athletic and muscular form we changed it to something closer to home? What if we made it of me or of you?
If I were to be immortalized in a nude sculpture of that same pose what would I see? What would you see? What would others see?
Indeed if you were to be immortalized in a nude sculpture of that same pose what would you see? What would I see? What would other’s see?
Would they still see that Warmth? Compassion? Love? Humility? Vulnerability? Or would they see that Shame? That pain? That Slavery?
As someone who battles with self-harming I am very much aware of the scars that my skin still holds. Would the sculptor somehow include those? Would they be noticeable and if so how noticeable would they indeed be? Likewise how would they change the feel, the meaning, the message of the piece?
Hopefully you don’t have those same battles with self-harming as I do nor the all too familiar signs of it. But here is a really interesting thought for you to ponder if you have a mind to…
Not all of our scars are physical, some are indeed internal – psychological, emotional. Some are real or even perceived by us as a result of our having poor mental health but yet not even seen by others.
If you were immortalized naked in that same pose – would others be able to see in that sculpture your – bipolar disorder, your OCD, your depression, your schizophrenia, your aspergers, your… (The list goes on and only you truly know the ones that apply to you.)
Perhaps rationally, logically you would answer, “No of course not.” But take out the rational, logical part of your response for mental illness often places us in non-rational, non-logical mindsets.
And is it not true that mental illness sometimes induces a sense of nakedness and of vulnerability? Certainly, for me personally, when I have an episode and others witness it I often feel naked and vulnerable and all too often ugly, broken and ashamed afterwards.
Actually these times are the times when the my deepest compulsion is to hide and yet ironically when I haven’t hidden and someone has reached out to me this is the time when I feel the deepest sense of love.
As I said, I don’t view physical nudity the way a lot of people (and certainly a lot of other Christians) seem to.
Perhaps it is because I am not very sexually minded or perhaps because I have seen so much suffering at the hands of corrupted and mis-taught body-image messages.
Or perhaps it is because I know that the body is but a shell and that body-image is but one part of self-image.
Perhaps also it is because true beauty is not skin deep, nor is it seated in sexual desire, pleasure. or gratification. Nor is it found purely in; chaos, nor order, nor in perfection.
True beauty is, in my opinion, found in love. Love given and love received – loved shared.
Shared despite the chaos, despite the order, and despite the imperfections.
Look at our sculpture one last time if you will. But this time let love direct your sight.
Notice if you will the head he lowers perhaps not daring to look up, to fully connect or perhaps in an act of submission or of worship?
This time notice how he covers himself, his manhood, his vulnerability and yet notice also if you will, the nobility of his form. The way his left hand, participating in the covering of himself, does not yet grip his right ankle as perhaps some would when in a similar but defensive pose.
Notice also the positioning of his right fingers not held flat against – but gently upon – his left shoulder almost seeking to caress to complete the embrace.
Is he experiencing and this expressing that warmth, that compassion, that love, that humility, which we spoke of earlier? Or is he experiencing and expressing that vulnerability, that slavery, that shame, which we also spoke of?
You decide. But in your decision, consider your place in this interaction and consider the needs expressed the invitation given and then ask yourself this – “how many of us have bared ourselves and crouched before each other in literary or virtual nakedness – deeply in need of that hug, that acceptance, that embrace?
I for one know I have and I for one know I will again…
So far in this mini series looking at therapy we have taken a look at why therapy can work, what happens when medication is relied on incorrectly, and how therapy can still be effective even when our mental illness comes as a result of genetics or neurology.
In this part of the series I thought we would look at what we should expect in a good mental health therapist.
I should explain that I have either prepared or planned this piece and that as usual I am simply typing the thoughts that occur to me (well the logical ones at least) and will edit it a little before hitting publish.
I am of course no expert in this field and offer only my own opinions and understandings and so I will be relying on he input of others reading and providing feedback on this piece and therefore recommend your reading both this piece and any comments that have been made.
But before I look at the qualities I would look for in the therapist we should I think be mindful that the therapy itself is just as important as the therapist.
So what should we be considering in respect of the therapy itself?
Accessibility.
The therapy may be the best therapy there is but if it isn’t accessible to you it is useless and when considering that accessibility we need to be mindful of the accessibility not just there and then but for the duration of the therapy.
Accreditation.
Accreditation is there for our protection and we need to be mindful that some therapy and therapists exist, depending on where you live or the type of therapy being offered, that do not have either accreditation or a legal requirement to be certified or accredited. Personally I would avoid these like the plague.
Likewise we need to check out just what any accreditation displayed means.
The truth is that Accreditation does NOT always guarantee that the therapy will be good but it is at least an indication.
Adequate and Realistic Time Frame.
Having an indication up front how long the therapy is going to last in respect of number of sessions and length of each session can be invaluable. It affords you the ability to commit based on an informed decision and can also help with any rejection or abandonment issues you could have when the therapy ends. (But see flexibility below)
Affordability.
Affordability and accessibility (see above) go hand in glove. Again it could be the best possible therapy there is but if it isn’t affordable (and affordable for the duration of the therapy) then it is useless. On this same note we should always bear in mind that if we have to cut down on essentials in order to get that therapy then we run the risk of adding stress and difficulties to our lives which we really don’t need and which can make the situation self-defeating.
Appropriateness.
The appropriateness of the therapy is essential and what is vital is that the therapy should be appropriate to who you are (Gender, Age, comprehension levels etc) and what you have been through and go through and not just to what that therapist has trained in or specialized in.
Challenging and Purposeful.
Therapy which affords you to feel good about a situation which is unhealthy and which can be fixed is not therapy it is excusing. Therapy that affords you to cope with situations that can’t be fixed is understandable but all therapy need to challenge and inspire in purpose.
Identifiable Exit Strategy.
This very much ties in with the ‘Adequate and Realistic Time Frame’ above and ‘Flexibility’ below. The truth is that very often, until the therapist gets to know more about you he or she can’t really tell how many sessions you are going to need. But having a clear exit strategy will at least allow you an understanding of the process and the time frame and again can help with any abandonment and rejection issues.
Flexibility
Flexibility is in my opinion important in respect of three main areas – Scheduling, Program, and Duration.
Scheduling – Mental Illness and poor mental health can bring such disorder into our lives and whilst it is right and fitting that we do all we can to bring order into that any therapy that does not accommodate occasional cancelling and rescheduling of appointments demonstrates a lack of understanding of what I go through and the difficulties I face and I personally would avoid it.
Program – It is your therapy as they are your hurts and issues that you are dealing with. No-one can fully predict what will come up during therapy and this the program must be flexible enough to be able to accommodate proper and adequate responses to those things or at very least referral to others who can.
Relevance.
A therapist can be the best OCD therapist in the world but if you are attending therapy for an unrelated reason, the potential benefits from that therapy may well be greatly reduced. It should deal with the issues that you want or need to deal with or refer you to folk who can deal with those issues.
So having looked at the therapy it self let’s look at what would I look for in a mental health therapist?
Here is my by no means exclusive list…
Approachability.
I need to be able to feel that I can actual talk to the therapist and that they are both interested and care. Assertiveness.
I need to know that they can hold their own and encourage me (assertively if needs be) to think a different way, approach things in a new way. Remember sometimes and in fact very often we are our own worse enemy. Caring.
I need a therapist who is not just ‘going through the motions’ or earning a wage packet. We all have challenges and difficulties in life and we all burn out at some time or another but your burn out is my fall out and your lack of caring is my lack of inspiration. Communication Skills.
Communication skills are not just about what you say. They about what you don’t say, what you do say, when you say it and how you say it. They are about your eyes, your heart, your body language. I ned to know you care so I too might be inspired to care. Humility.
Therapy is about making me feel good and being able to be good, not you looking or sounding good. I don’t need someone who feel so self-important that they will just stand at the top of a pit shouting climb up to where I am, I want one who will run the risk of getting their hands dirty and reach down and give me their hand. Intelligence.
I need a therapist who can demonstrate that they have enough intelligence to be able to understand and keep up with my thought processes. But also one who can explain but doesn’t feel the need to rub it in when those thought processes are on a go slow or have stopped or gone off the rails.
Life experience. Listening Skills.
Very much linked to ‘Communication Skills’ above, I need a therapist who can hear as loudly what I don’t say as what I do say. Who will listen with both of their ears and their heart. If you don’t have a direct link between your ears and your heart you are little use to me as a therapist and that link isn’t also connected to your brain filtering both what get’s through to your heart and comes out of it you are no use to me whatsoever as a therapist. Objectivity.
IN short I need therapist who will use their training and experiences as a foundation but one from which they are willing to reach out, but not so far that they fall over or knock me down. Relatability
I need a therapist who I can relate to. Who I feel has some form of common bond with me. One who I can see not so much coming along on the journey that I am taking but at least willing to be there at the various stops along the way and to do so with some interest and a connection at least in part with what I experienced between those stops. Real-ness.
I need a therapist who is real and tangible. I am not looking for theories or dispassionate text book responses. If I wanted an audio book I would by one. Respectability.
I need a therapist that I can relate to but also have confidence in. Trust is huge issue in therapy. If you don’t present that you care about yourself, your conduct and your appearance how can you hope to inspire me to care about mine? Respect.
Regardless of your opinion of what has happened to be or been done by me I need the therapist to respect that I am me. Broken, damaged, hurt as I maybe I am me and that me deserves respect even if the fallout doesn’t. Sensitivity and Patience.
This is another huge one for me. If I open myself up to you don’t make me feel dirty or shameful or worthless and know that my hurts are deep for a reason and so my being able to bring them to the surface may take time. Work at the pace that is best for me and in a manner which is best for me, not just what is best for your schedule. Remember you are my therapist not the rapist. Spirituality.
This I accept is a personal preference. And here again it is for me a huge one. As a Christian my faith is core to who I am. Likewise I am convinced that we are not physical beings seeking a spiritual experience but spiritual beings living a physical experience. Any therapy must therefore acknowledge understand and incorporate my spirituality. Trust worthiness.
Another huge one, I need to know I can trust you as my therapist. Trust your judgement, your reasoning, your motivations and your advice. And a huge part of that trust for me is your understanding that you do not automatically have the right to my total trust from the outset. I have been hurt before and will need to build my trust in you. If you can’t understand that then can I respectfully suggest a career change might be in order? Understanding.
Here’s a strange thought! Your understanding as my therapist that these are my issues, my hurts, my pains, my fears, is just as important to me as your understanding them and how they can affect people. I need you as my therapist to understand how unhealthy they are for me even damaging they may be to me yes, but also how integral to who I have become they are and how much difficult it is for me to let go of them. Understanding therefore how hard it is for me to share them, let go of them is important, but understanding what an enormous gift it is for me to accept you as part of that process is essential.
So there you have it or them. My ‘by no means exclusive’ but hopefully fairly comprehensive lists about what I look for in the therapy and the therapist.
I would be very interested to hear other blogger’s/readers comments and additions and responses to those lists.
Anyone who has watched television for any length of time will probably have noticed the different trends that seem to happen within scheduling and program making.
Over the years we have seen the advent, craze, and then decline in, and even virtual death of such trends as…
Gardening shows, Home decor shows, DIY shows, fashion shows, forensic documentaries and their ilk, Reality Tv shows, sublime – rediculous supposedly ‘reality’ based chat shows, recovery-based shows and docusoaps, therapy based shows, obesity based shows, secret millionaire show, secret or undercover boss shows, secret I want to be famous and for people to think I am a good person so I know what I will go on tv and do something to make me look like a good guy shows, talent, and “I think I have talent and all my friends and family who should know better but who obviously don’t, tell me I have talent even when I have no talent’ shows.
The list is virtually endless isn’t it? And I am sure you can think of several additions to that list which I haven’t included. (Basically because by the time I had reached the point where i stopped in my list I was losing the will to live lol.)
And whilst I have employed a certain amount of cynical humor in my list, I do admit that actually some of them can be quite good and quite interesting and some may even have good intentions behind them.
One fairly recent craze not on that list is in respect of ancestry and genealogy and this has become really big business with, television shows, websites and independent researchers popping up all over the place. And actually it really can be fascinating (and somewhat addictive once you get into it.)
For those of us with mental health issues it can also provide a doorway into the past which can in some cases provide valuable insights into influencing factors even the source of our illness(es).
Genetics can without doubt play a huge part in our physical and mental health and as I say Genealogy can provide us with valuable insights.
Some years back now my mother asked me to trace our family tree. At that time I wasn’t well enough to do so but did promise to do so when I was more able. A year or so ago now I kept that promise (see I can be a good son sometimes ) and started that process. I now have researched and built a family tree with in excess of two and half thousand family members on it going back as far as the 1600′s.
As I said above it can be both fascinating and addictive, and I should also note that it can also be an extremely expensive undertaking depending on just how deeply you want or need to get into it.
Depending on how far back you go, where the folk lived and worked etc., records and information can range from detailed to sparse, totally accurate to less accurate, joy-bringing to deeply disturbing. Some of the circumstance you can learn concerning the lives and social conditions of ancestors can without doubt impact you emotionally.
And I think at this point that I should post a warning that in respect of mental illness, mankind’s history of its understanding and treatment of mental illness and especially those who suffer from it is desperately sad and criminal in many ways. Thus, learning of ancestors who had mental illness and how they were treated can be deeply shocking and distressing. I have literally wept at one or two of the things I have learned.
Whist details of infirmities, mental capacity etc ., are often excluded from being available on census records online, information such as institutionalization, hospitalization at time of censuses being taken, can be indicators and additionally death certificates – cause of death for example – newspaper and local court records all help build a picture.
It should also be remembered that genetic illnesses including mental illnesses can skip generations and indeed can be specific to, or increased in their potential, according to gender. (Hm I hope that made sense, it is not a field I have any expertise in)
So it is without doubt true that genetics can have a part to play in someone’s mental health and that indeed many who suffer from mental illness do so because of a long history of it within their family.
But is that the only cause and indeed even if it is the cause of someone’s mental health does that mean that they simply have to cope with the results of it?
The answer to those questions are, in the opinion of this writer, undeniably NO!
And let’s be real and objective here. Even if a child does not inherit a mental illness genetically from a parent or grandparent, or relative it is extremely possible (and sadly in the past very likely) that the child will have experienced behaviour and situations and circumstances as a result of that parent, grandparent, or relative’s mental illness which could subsequently induce or create mental health issues within that child.
In this mini-series looking at Therapy and its benefits and usefulness, I have already touched on the fact that some mental health can result from genetics or neurology. I have also mentioned how one can be forgiven for mistakenly thinking that where this is the case therapy has no benefit.
But the truth is that regardless of the cause or source of our mental health we all have to live with it and even if we can’t find full healing from it we can very often find managing and coping skills or techniques in respect of it.
And this is one area where therapy can be invaluable.
Additionally, we need to be mindful that because it plays such an important part of our everyday lives it impacts our everyday lives. Therefore as a result of this it can and often does cause issues for which there can be healing.
Therapy can play such an important part in this also.
For so many, mental illness and poor mental health can seem like a life-long sentence that has been handed down with no merit or deserved-ness and for no other reason than someone somewhere in our past had it and so the cycle began.
Whilst that ‘sentence’ is relevant and important it is also beyond our control. But what is in our control however is a) whether we allow it to be seen as a ‘sentence’, b) how we deal with it and c) how much influence we allow it to have over our lives and the lives of those nearest and dearest to us. And again all of those things can be directly helped by good therapy.
Many of you know that I have an adopted family and that some of my adopted kids have a history of being abused. As I have said to them many times, I can’t take away the abuse that you suffered before we came into each other’s lives – the fact that it happened or the hurts and pain of the past. But I can try and reduce the effect that it has on your future.
The same is true of mental illness and how we deal with it. So I am convinced that even where the cause of a mental illness or poor mental health is genetically or neurologically based, therapy – good, effective, affordable and accessible therapy – can be invaluable.
Yesterday, since I was feeling a wee bit impish, I published a post entitled, ‘The Black Dog and The Woods‘ and in it I set the following puzzle.
A farm house sits on a plot of land which is 200 meters square and surrounded by a wall.
Actually the farmhouse is 10 meters from the back wall and some 150 meters from the front wall and gate.
Tied to the farmhouse by a piece of rope some 300 meters in length is a black dog.
At the front of the land there is a 10 meter wide river over which there is a small bridge.
Across the bridge and only 1 meter away from the bridge is a wooded area come forest which is 200 meters square.
If the dog does not break free from the rope and there are no obstacle in its way, how far into the woods can the dog go?
(Please note that the above picture whilst pretty much to scale is not exactly to scale and is only a guide)
This puzzle really wasn’t as random as it may at first have seemed.
So Firstly in case you were doing the maths here is the relevant maths and salient points for you…
The Farmhouse is 10 meters from the back wall of the 200 square meter enclosed farm land and 150 meters from the front wall and gate.
Therefore the farmhouse is some 40 meters from front to back…
200m (length of the land) -150m (gate to farmhouse) = 50m – 10m (back wall to house) = 40m (farmhouse from front to back)
Since the dog is tied to the house the shortest amount of rope he would use to get to the front gate is 150m (farmhouse front to front gate) and the longest is 190m if tied to the back of the house. (150m from front of house to gate + 40m width of house)
So, since we know the rope is some 300m long, at the front gate the black dog would have either 150m of rope left (if tied to the front of the house: 300m rope – 150m distance from house front to gate) or 110m of rope left (if tied to the back of the house: 300m rope – 190m distance from house back to gate).
We also know there is a 10 m wide river with a small bridge over it which the dog has to cross in order to reach the wooded area and that the edge of the wooded area was 1 meter away from the bridge. This meaning that the dog would use a further 11 meters of rope in order to reach the edge of the wood.
So we know that at the edge of the woods the dog will either have either 139m of rope left or 99m of rope left depending on whether he was tied to the front or the back of the house.
The only other information that we know is that the woods come forest are 200 meters square – 200 meters wide by 200 meters across.
So since the wooded area is 200 meters square and the dog has some 139 meters or 99 meters of rope left you would think that the dog could go either 99 meters or 139 meters into the woods yes?
Well actually no he can’t. Did I mention that I was feeling impish?
Yes the dog can indeed go 99 meters into the woods but no he can’t go 139 meters into the woods.
Why? Well it all comes down to the size of the woods. We know that they are only 200 meters across by 200 meters wide. From this we know that the central point of the woods is 100 meters in from the edges.
And if the central point is only 100 meters in from the edge any distance that the dog travels beyond that point means that the dog is no longer traveling into the woods but actually traveling out of them.
And since our question was how far can he travel into the woods the 139 meters has to be wrong! And the most he can travel into the woods is 99 meters if he was tied to the back of the house and 100 meters if he was tied to the front of the house.
Of course it is not a perfect puzzle – there is of course no guarantee that the dog would go in a straight line.
But, in my defense, I did already confess to the fact that I was being very impish and I also admitted that the puzzle wasn’t necessarily that random.
In my aforementioned previous piece I likened the woods to depression or a depressed episode. Some of you very cleverly picked up on that.
Unlike the woods in our puzzle however, (the length and width and thus central point of which we know) we don’t know the length of a depressed episode until it is over.
And if we don’t know the length of the depressed episode until it is over we can’t possibly know the central point of the episode either and thus can’t really know if we are going into the depressed episode or coming out of it?
Now to some this realization might seem demoralizing even frightening – where is the structure? Where are the markers? The points of reference?
But what if we looked at it a different way? What if we said that since there is no set structure, no set markers and no set points of reference telling us where we are in that depressed episode we can decide that for ourselves and decide to be coming out of it any time we want to?
Does that sound too easy? Too radical?
Well what if it isn’t? What if it really is – in some ways just that easy?
Ask yourself this if you will, “How many times has your motivation to fight through a depressed episode been reduced by the knowledge that previous episodes have lasted a long time?” How many times, and be honest with yourself here, have you sat in a depressed episode and resigned yourself to the fact that it is going to last a lot longer – adding the words, “it always does” to your internal dialogue?
Well, who says it always does or always has to?
After all we have already established the fact that the only structure, the only markers, the only points of reference are the ones that you yourself assign or accept.
Now obviously I understand that depressed episodes can sometimes be totally beyond our control and likewise I accept that sometimes there seem to be indicators that the depression (our wooded area) is heavier or more intense. (Or thicker/denser in respect of our woods.) But who is to say that this is the middle of the depression (or our relative wood) Who’s to say that this isn’t simply another slump within the depression?
The point I am making is that at the end of the day the depressed episode (or our wooded area) is our depressed episode (our wooded area) and thus we get to have some say in how we deal with it. Whether we deal with it in the attitude of walking deeper in or indeed walking out of it.
This whole thought process and dialogue started because I myself suffered a crash and felt myself having already entered into that depressed episode.
Let’s be real here, sometimes you can be part way into a depressed episode before you realize you are in one. (Just as sometimes you can walk past several trees before you work out that it is in fact the edge of a wood you have been walking into.)
I have been putting a lot of effort into getting healthier and losing this darned weight. I have also had a lot of success and am so thankful for that since it really is so very important.
BUT I know where these depressed episodes lead, (what the centre of that wood is like), and I know how they affect me. Even putting my mental health issues aside for a moment I cannot afford to go there if I can possibly help it and I can’t afford for my physical health to suffer any more.
As I said our puzzle isn’t a perfect puzzle as there is no guarantee that the dog will go in a straight line. And of course it is not a perfect world and there is no guarantee that we can control the depression. BUT we can try and that is the important thing and we can recognize the fact that we do sometimes have a say in whether we are walking into the depression or out of it!
In a comment to a previous post I was asked, “How do you drag yourself out of these dark places, these dark moods? These depressed episodes? And the truth is that sometimes that is virtually impossible without assistance…
Last night I sat watching a bit of television and there was absolutely nothing on which suited my mood at the time. “I know,” thought I. “I will see what is available on Netflix. I fancy watching a really dark sad and tragic movie.” But then I realized they hadn’t made my autobiography into a movie yet.”
There is some ironic humor in that statement, that tought process, isn’t there? In a dark, sad kind of way I mean.
Actually the only truth in that statement is the fact that a) I did think it and b) they haven’t made my autobiography into a movie. And yes I have actually written an autobiography of my life.
The fact is that my life (and indeed my autobiography for that matter) is neither dark nor sad nor tragic. Does it contain dark, sad or tragic episodes? Yes it does, (don’t so many of our lives?) but I certainly wouldn’t label or describe it that way and in fact it has been woven with as many amazing and incredible moments as it has dark, sad or tragic ones.
And the truth is that I rarely if ever willingly or knowingly watch that type of movie.
But then that is the nature of depression isn’t it? It can re-color things or even bleach the color out of things. Likewise it can corrupt and pervert our perception or focus causing us to be drawn to the macabre or the tragic or the dark.
Being aware of this and remaining mindful of this – especially when such thought processes logically progress to suicidal ideation can be so very important. Having coping mechanisms in place with which to combat such a progress is also so very important.
I am mindful of a wood or forest at this point. As you enter into it the trees are fairly spread out and light is breaking through the gaps and the branches. The further in you get the thicker the forest or wooded area gets and the thicker and closer together those trees get and subsequently less and less light breaks through until eventually you see neither light nor individual trees just darkness all around you.
Instead of trees think of wounds and hurts, guilts and shames, stessors and problems. Look at them all spread out and thinly planted around you and you see each one and you also see the light – that hope.
But allow yourself to walk right down into the thick of it and they become one mass, a blanket, a barrier, a trap and they block out the light – that hope that joy that we all need to survive.
That for me is the first lesson. Recognizing that entering into that pathway of thoughts will lead you deeper in and exactly what is there for you if you do go down it. And there are other important lessons/considerations…
Separating the trees (or individual thoughts and either dismissing ech individual one without further consideration or combating them (chopping them down) and then very importantly letting go and letting them stay down. Thus allowing that light to shine through.
Recognizing where that light (that hope and that joy) comes from and how important it is. Remembering that this is what you need to be looking towards and staying close to. The minute a thought process seems to be removing or blocking that light – walk backwards in your mind and allow yourself to face that particular thought process another day when you are more able.
Of course I do recognize that it is not always that easy. As someone who suffers from poor mental health and a number of mental health issues I know only too well that sometime we just cannot control where I mind will take us.
BUT the truth is that there are times, plenty of times, when we can.
I started of this post with a statement reflecting a thought process I had last night – one which said, “I need a movie which will match my mood.” PErfectly natural and understandable you might think, but I would suggest that as natural and understandable as it may at first seem it is without doubt a harmful thought process?
Why match a dark mood? A Sad mood? A tragic mood? Why feed those moods? Where will doing so lead? Why not try to combat them and try to speak into them and change them for the better?
Actually instead of matching or feeding the dark mood was in I watched a comedy. After that I read some comments hereon my blog, I listened to some upbeat Christian music.
Can I say that doing so lifted my mood noticeably and dragged me out of the darkness that I have been experiencing? No in all honesty I can’t.
BUT and like mine this really is a big but it never fed that mood and never dragged me further into that darkness and that is noticeable and that is a victory that is well worth acknowledging.
IS the darkness still there? Yes I am afraid it is. Are the suicidal thoughts still lingering, still threatening? Yes I am afraid they are. But it hasn’t gotten worse and I can still see flickers of light, signs of hope and that is so very important.
Today I have worked in the house, bought and constructed a bench to go in my garden and with the help of my son and his partner hung all of those blinds that I have been washing and had put out to dry.
A dear friend from my old church came round to see me today and that was a very real blessing also.
So those are the rays of light breaking through the darkness that tries to cover me and I am going to recognize them, hold on to them, and thank God for them.
We have many terms for our bad times don’t we? Slumps, lulls, depressed episodes, dark times, black dog times, (hm I have never liked that one and think it particularly unfair to black dogs), the emptiness, the nothingness, falls, crashes.
In truth I think we all have our own individual ways of labelling them and indeed may well have different labels for different levels of severity.
Perhaps we need something similar to the DEFCON scale where as instead of DEFCON (DEFense CONdition) we have a DEPCON (Depression Condition) and conversely we could have MANCON (Mania Condition).
Can you imagine it? Friends and loved one’s would be handed little laminated cards with the different color-coded DEPCON and MANCON scales on each side and perhaps as small pocket or handbag sized handbook on what the protocol is when we reach a certain level.
I can see it now. Concerned and frantic telephone calls between family members. “Moma, It’s Janey. He’s at DEPCON 2.” A call which launches Moma into a frantic flurry of activity where she rummages through her handbag for her handbook, looks up the protocol and then cooks up a batch of comforting chicken noodle soup and some biscuits and then drives round to deliver it in person. Thus affording her the opportunity to ensure that I eat it. Plus secretly affording her the opportunity to remove all the sharp objects and excess pills from my house.
Of course, despite my mood, I am trying to make light of the situation. A situation in respect of the crash – the depressed episode – that all too many of us know only too well. But that’s the problem So many of us do know it only too well. And that is where I am at the moment and where I have been for the past three or four days.
It started coming on earlier in the week last week and has gradually increased in severity with each passing day.
My physical health deteriorated. Lethargy and general aches and pains, gave way to (or progressed into) sleeplessness, a complete lack of energy, more aches and pains and specifically chest pains. And just to add to it my breast lump is back and whist I know this is nothing major it is darned uncomfortable. All of which is killing my attempts to lose weight and get healthier.
My mental health deteriorated along with the my physical health. Normal moods gave way to (or progressed into) darker moods, emptiness, nothingness, with flickers of suicidal ideation. Concentration is as much an effort mentally as sitting up at my desk is physically. (Which explains the relative lack of blogging activity lately.)
My spiritual health is taking a battering also. I couldn’t make church, have no appetite for fellowship. Praying is difficult at these times as the voices and harmful thoughts attack and tell me what a fraud I am when I hold fast to the message of hope when the reality of experience is so very much different to that.
But they are of course wrong. My knowledge of the Bible convinces me that there are no guarantees of a problem free existence this side of eternity and in fact the very opposite is true. That the Bible clearly acknowledges that we will face difficulties in this life and how coming to faith will not remove that from us and in many ways can increase that.
Yes DEPCON 2. is probably just about right. Perhaps a high three bordering on a low 2 but most definitely around the 2 mark and that is worrying.
Of course there are no concerned telephone calls going on (to my knowledge) and certainly no chicken noodle soup and biscuits being made – my family (apart from my son) all live in a different country. And certainly no one is going to come round and remove all sharp objects and excess pills from me. Isolation does that for you, it presents you with the reality of the removal of those safety nets and is never an avenue I would recommend for anyone other than for short visits.
But isolations presents you with another reality. The reality of the fact that if you truly are going to drag yourself out of DEPCON 2 you are going to have to do just that. Drag yourself out of it! Or at very least drag yourself far enough to seek the help you need.
I need to start that journey and I need to start it now. There is a slippery slope leading to the abyss and I need to start the journey away from the abyss and back up that slope no matter how steep or slippery or difficult that slope may be.
This is not new! I have been here before! It is not new and it has been conquered before! And if it is not new and has been conquered before then it can be conquered again. I can conquer this again.
I need to go for a walk. Walking involves taking steps and taking steps is what I need to do right now and walking is a good time to pray. To remember that I am not alone in this and to fight back against the lethargy, the emptiness, the nothingness.
Firstly and before anything else I would like to say how very touched and grateful I am by all of the comments of support and reblogging that has been offered in response to this campaign. I can’t begin to express you how grateful I am for this and how much it means to me.
As a result of such response I have been reflecting on the campaign and really feel that this is something that the Mental Health Writers Guild should be hosting as opposed to it being something which comes from this my personal blog.
Because of this I have today created a page on the MEntal Health Writers Guild blog and I hope therefore that in this way we can generate more support and touch more lives.
You can find that page here and I have also created an honour roll on that page for those who support this campaign as I feel that support needs to be acknowledged.
Again, many, many thanks to everyone who has gotten behind this campaign! You are just awesome.
Firstly I would like to say a huge thank you to all those who sent me comments and messages of support in response to my last post “Anxious Anticipation“. It really does mean so very much to me and it is that kind of support and encouragement that I passionately believe it so essential within the mental health blogging community and on of the reasons why I am so passionate about the Mental Health Writers Guild.
Such was my anticipation about my regular hospital visit today that actually I ended up not being able to sleep until about 4 – 4.30am and then had to get up at 6am in order to shower and prepare for the trip up country to the hospital I attend just outside Dublin.
So as I am sure you can understand I was pretty shattered by the time we left. But the positive side of that was that I was able to doze pretty much for most of the journey and this made both the journey pass relatively quickly and gave less time for my anxiety over it all.
That having been said, the pure logistics of transport meant that I arrived a few hours before my appointment and so I decided to spend some of it writing a poem about morbid obesity. Some of you may be aware that I have a love of poetry and it is something I have been wanting to get back into writing.
I did indeed write the poem (entitled ‘Downsized Shell’) and have just posted it on my poetry blog “Deep From Within” and if you are interested in reading or listening to that poem (there is a streamable audio recording of it that you can play) you can find it here.
Having written the poem and whilst waiting for my appointment I met and had a really nice time chatting with another guy who had morbid obesity and who had also arrived long before his appointment. And in fact he lives not far from me and it was great to spend time with him and his son and to share experiences, challenges, obstacles and coping techniques in our respective fights for better health.
But then came the moment of truth – my appointment and that all important anxiety inducing weigh-in. This is such a big thing for me what with all of my health and especially my heart problems and as you know I have written before about how depression and mental illness can affect our body-sizes and self-esteem issues.
As part of the treatment for my morbid obesity I see a team of specialists – physiotherapist, dietitian, psychologist, and doctors and today it was the physiotherapist that I saw first and who supervised my weigh in.
I was so nervous. Yes I have made a great deal of very radical changes and put a lot of effort in since my last appointment but I have also been in bed with flu for most of the past two weeks and I was worried that what efforts I had made had all been undone by the past two weeks worth of illness and thus limited activity.
BUT I needn’t have worried. My weigh-in was done and in fact (due to the result double checked) and I have lost 6 Kilos!
6 Kilos! That is 13 lb and 3.64 oz (in old money) which being as there are 14 lbs to a stone and seeing as I was weighed wearing a heavy hoodie this time but not wearing one last time means I have lost a stone in weight!
I was staggered and the team were delighted! Especially when the physio handed me the equivalent weight in dumbbells to hold so that I could visualize just how heavy that was and it dawned on me that it was the equivalent weight of of 6 regular bags of sugar in the UK.
So I am so very encouraged and quite upbeat this evening. Totally exhausted as a result of being out all day and all of that travelling but very upbeat and very grateful for the support and encouragement I have received. More importantly (and I do not by that mean to downplay the support and encouragement I have received) I am re-motivated.
So I wanted to share that with you all before turning in for the night and trying to rest.
Again thank you so much for your support and encouragement and your prayers.
There are a number of passages in the Bible which make me sit up and question, sit up an reflect on, their true meaning.
I wonder how many of us as parents have had our child or children wake up from a bad dream or nightmare and in their fear automatically call out to us of come to our bedroom door in search of us?
Isn’t (and shouldn’t) the same be true in respect of the fear that we face in life as children of God?
Well I am going to cheat here slightly if I may. The reason for my cheating is that actually I have already done this exercise. It is an idea that I gained from reading something Stephen Fry had done and in response to that I wrote my “letter to a younger self” back in November of last year. Wow that year seems to have gone fast.
Dearest Kevin,
Well I saw the psychiatrist today.
As a result of this I also fessed up to my struggles over my medication. My memory and focus difficulties often mean that I would forget to take my meds – folk who know me well will know the struggles that I have with these things – memory, focus and taking my meds.
