Courtesy of my-walls.net no copyright infringement intended. –
I found this picture over at my-walls.net and it really is appropriate for this post
Whilst a different location and indeed not a photo I myself have taken it is very similar of a scene that I know so very well. A group (or murder) of crows suddenly flying up out of a field.
Look out of my study window and across the road you will see a field (although not as pretty as the one in the photo) and very often there are crows in that field. They sit, walk, peck and feed on it quite contentedly.
Not many people really know they are there (except the field itself of course) until there is a sudden noise (kids shouting or a car back-firing) and suddenly they all rise up, en-mass, at hover in frantic flight, cawing as they do so!
Like I said, it is a scene that I know so very well! But not only in reality also within my head where my mind is the field and the crows are the voices that I hear.
Voices which not many people know they are there except my mind of course on which they continually sit, walk, peck and feed quite contentedly.
But for these dark hallucinatory birds of vocal accusations and ridicule to take frantic flight en-mass there needs be no sudden loud noise just arguments, unjust criticism, false accusations, illogical misunderstandings.
It started with an innocent comment made by a fellow blogger, then came an accusation made in email and the ensuing discussions where the truth finally came out, followed by yet another understanding and folk assuming and then accusing me of feeling and reacting totally differently to how I actually was.
But these things happen don’t they? Misunderstandings, incorrect assumptions, insensitive behavior? And in truth, whilst we might do all we can to reduce them, we cannot stop them.
Much like the voices – those sinister black crows which take frantic flight and hover and caw for days to follow – these things will happen.
Courtesy of wall321.com no copyright infringement intended. -
Trust me, if I had a gun and the necessary ammunition, I would shoot each and everyone of the voices, those crows – out of my life, my mind.
And yet we do in some ways have that gun and the necessary ammunition don’t we? We have the truth and rational thinking and whilst this may not completely rid us of our crows (the voices) they can reduce them and come against them. (2 Corinthians 10:5)
Courtesy of tn disckerson diaries over at blogspot, no copyright infringement intended.
Of course we don’t all suffer with schizophrenic voices do we? But we do all to some degree or another have internal dialogues going on don’t we? And we all do, generally speaking, have access to the truth and to rational thinking.
So yes it may have been a difficult few days, days of the crows, but I , for one am getting my ammunition and am going to be looking forward to clearer skies
Sometimes in life we come across folk who seem to react instantly and badly to things that happen or that they think have happened. Don’t we?
You know, those who seem to throw their toys out of the pram the minute something goes – or seems to go – wrong.
And the fact is that we have probably all, or at least most of us, done this at some time or other in life.
And in truth it is a behavior which we see in most toddlers.
Won’t they (and we when we were younger), at one point or another have done this – thrown their toys out of the pram?
When it first happens most parents will; bend down pick up the toy, brush it off/clean it, and give it back to the toddler concerned.
Sometimes, of course, the toddler sees this as a being fun. So naturally they throw it out again, and often the parent will repeat the whole returning process.
But of course with human nature being what it is, the more this happens the more rewarding it becomes for the child and equally the more frustrating it becomes for the parent.
So the process reaches a point where the parent cottons on to the fact that it has become a game and so – not wishing to reward the child or encourage it and allow it to become a learned behavior – they simply warn the child (if the child is old enough to understand) or simply refrains from returning the toy to the child.
It is, I think we would all agree, a perfectly natural and common place event in childhood and parenting is it not?
But what happens when it isn’t a child involved? What happens when it is an adult and not toys out of a pram but people out of a relationship? And what happens when the learned behavior is already their and that person – being discarded – is YOU?
I am, I think, many things to many people. Different people see me in different ways and that again is, I think very natural. To some I come across as very approachable and very caring. To others – or so it seems – I come across as detached and uncaring. To some the practical joker and yet others a very serious, deep thinker.
Actually, I can even remember one time when I was standing next to a lady in church – whom I had known casually for some months but never ever really had a cross word with or any long or noteworthy conversation with – when she turned to me and said, “I have to tell you Kevin, you really scare me. I just find you so intimidating.”
I have to admit that I was both stunned and somewhat surprised by the revelation and how it seemed to come out of absolutely nowhere.
I also have to admit that I was very saddened by that revelation. After all, it isn’t as if I am some sort of Ogre
Now don’t get me wrong, I understand that I am a big guy. Actually a very big guy and I accept that my size can make me a little intimidating.
I also understand that the way my mind works I am often deep in thought and do on occasion – either as a result of my schizo-affective disorder or my Aspergers – sometimes respond more deeply (or conversely say simply things) which others would perhaps hold back on.
But none of these are intended to push people away or intimidate. And neither of them demonstrate how deeply I do care about people.
Actually, I personally think that it is something that people often get very wrong about folk who experience mental health struggles and especially those of us who have Aspergers. They somehow think that we just don’t care or do not have emotions on the same level that they do.
The truth is of course, – or at least in my experience the truth is – that they are very wrong and we do care – sometimes more deeply than others may – we just demonstrate it and process it in different ways.
So when something happens and someone gets upset and throw’s YOU out of their pram, closing the door to you and ceasing all communication it can be very hurtful.
Not least of all because it means that you can no longer show them the love that you have to offer and which in a lot of cases they actually need.
It is of course quite natural to say, “Well good luck to you then. If you don’t need me or my love then who cares?” But the fact is that deep down inside, perhaps under the initial hurt, we do still care don’t we?
And to accept anything else, to stop loving that person, to allow our focus to be on any hurt, to allow those hurt to become bitterness and to fester is unhealthy for them, for us and as Christians to our faith.
No, I am convinced that the truth is that when this happens our loving them doesn’t have to stop. The only thing that stops is their ability to see and fully know how much we love them perhaps.
So instead this is when our love, which by now admittedly probably has a greater cost to us as we need to surrender those hurts, needs to take a different form and to be offered solely in prayer.
And whilst it is true that prayer should have formed part of our love for them all along, it is in the surrendering of those hurts – in the heartfelt love and caring for the person who has caused us that hurt by rejecting us – which will also guard our heart against bitterness.
And that in turn allows our doors to remain open for when they have calmed down or seen things differently – perhaps more clearly. And in so doing – to allow for the healing that needs to take place.
Why am I blogging about this now? Well because a couple of days ago this happened to me. A misunderstanding caused someone, someone I have known but a few days and yet already care so very deeply for, to throw me out of their life and to close the door on my love.
Did it hurt? Yes very much so. But as I have said, it is at times like this when our love must take a different form. Why? Because that is what love is and that is what I know God would want for and from us.
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)
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.
“Good morning,” greets the doctor. “How can I help you today?”
“I think I am suffering from depression or something.” The man’s tells him. “I feel low all the time, am on edge, irritable, have a constant sense of impending doom. I think I need to see a psychiatrist.”
“Oh dear,” The doctor responds. “Have you tried being more positive?”
“Do you think that would help?” the man asks. “Because if you think it would help I am more than willing to give it a go.”
“I am sure it would.” The doctor confirms.
“Good,” replies the man, “Then, I am POSITIVE I am suffering from depression or something. I am POSITIVE that I feel low all the time, am on edge, irritable, and have a constant sense of impending doom. Now stop faffing about and refer me to a damn psychiatrist!”
I am not sure if I heard that joke, or a version of it, somewhere or I just made it up but either way it certainly has a ring of familiarity and truth about it doesn’t it?
Of course there is no disputing the power of positive thought but positive thought is not going to fully counter act chemical depression or other such conditions.
So, that being the case, do we simply give up and accept what is happening to us?
Well my answer is a very definite no! Do I accept that some mental health disorders/conditions are chemical or physiological or run so deep that thinking positively simply isn’t going to address or remove them? Yes of course I do but I have to believe that even in these situations positive thinking can and will is some way affect how they affect us and what impact they have on our quality of life.
Is that just psycho-babble or the desperate act of someone simply trying to get through? Well maybe that is true but what if it is? Sometimes desperate acts are all we feel we have left aren’t they?
And here’s the deal. I never asked for this mental illness and I may not have any control over the fact that I suffer mental illness, but I sure as heck have control over how I respond to it!
Last night was pretty bad and it hasn’t changed much this morning BUT I am not going to let it get me down. I am so very grateful for all the messages of support and encouragement that I received either here, on Facebook, Skype, Viber or email and I am sorry if I caused undue concern for anyone.
But I promise you I am ok and I will beat this thing!
I still have my faith, I still have my mischievous nature, I still have my sense of humor and I am blessed with a great deal of support. All of which gives me so much strength and all of which are a very real life-line for me.
So today I am thinking positively and today I am mooning my mental health and saying, “ok you can knock me down, but you will never beat me!”
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.
Ok so it happened again some time last night or early this morning. I suddenly realized I was outside in my garden in the middle of a thunder and lightning storm wearing just my Pj’s and soaking wet.
I have no idea how long I had been out there or how long the storm had been going on for, but I do know TJ my dog was very unsettled.
Recently I have found that I am ‘zoning out again’ and in more ways than one.
One way in which I zone out is by losing whole chunks of time. I have written about this before and in fact even wrote a poem about it. You can read it or even listen to it if you have a mind to. It can be found either on this blog: ‘The Time Thief‘ or, if you prefer, on my poetry blog: ‘The Time Thief‘.
(I apologize for the sound quality but I had a cold at the time I recorded it and the same recording is on both sites. Hm, I really must re-record that!)
The other way in which I am zoning out is by what we call triggering it seems. “Triggering” is a term applied to many things and indeed several things within the Mental Health field.
“What ‘triggered’ your last episode?”, “Do you know what triggered this anxiety attack?” and “Do you know what triggers your depression?” are all common questions. And of course sometimes the answer to the question is ‘no’.
The same is true when you have DID (or MPD as it is also known) and whilst those of us who have DID may well know some of the things which do trigger us – for me it is often: unexpected abuse scenes in films, NSPCC or Child cruelty related adverts, the sound of a leather belt being cracked against itself, or the combined smell of Old Spice and sweat, to name but a few – we don’t always know (after having been triggered) what it was that triggered us on that particular occasion.
All we do know (very often that is) is that we have triggered and indeed there are tell tale signs which we have learned to look for or be aware of…
A knife being left out with peanut butter on it, a cartoon based DVD left in the DVD player, crayons and toys (which I keep specifically for my littles) being left out, going to the bathroom and realizing you are wearing briefs or Y fronts even though when you got dressed that morning you put on your customary boxer shorts.
All of these are (for me personally) indicators of my having triggered at some point and that a little came out to play. There are often less obvious signs when my older ones come out but certain books being moved, or left lying around, pictures having been drawn in certain styles or with certain subject matters, websites and music or quiz sites being present in my browser history number among them.
And then of course there are the more serious and concerning indicators. The results of having self-harmed and indeed how it has been done can be one of them. And is always very disturbing when you ‘become yourself again’ and see it or (if it happened during the night) wake up to find it.
Or those disconcerting times when a house guest or one of your kids tells you that they heard you moving around in the night and when they went to investigate and check you were alright you were walking around stark naked or dressed only in briefs and carrying a teddy bear.
Yes these times can be most disconcerting and I am sure are equally as upsetting for the person finding a grown man who is built like an outhouse walking around in a state of undress and carrying a small teddy bear in the middle of the night!
Thankfully I live alone and so those particular occurences are few and far between and additionally what house guests I do very occasionally have are usually either family or made fully aware of my DID and the relative risks involved.
For those of you who are not familiar with DID or MPD I have written about it before – one such post is ‘When The Golden Thread Snapped – A Personal Look at Dissociative Identity Disorder‘ and you can read a little about it there or there are plenty of other excellent blogs and sites about it on the web. But trust me it can be a very scary and difficult thing to live with.
I guess the most simplistic way of explaining it is to think of one of those old weather vane boxes/houses. You have probably seen the type I mean. You have a little house with two doorways. Inside one doorway there is a little man usually with raincoat and umbrella and inside the other doorway is a little woman in a dress.
They are on a spindle and depending on the weather the little man comes out to the front indicating rain or the little woman comes out to the front indicating sunshine. On neutral days they both stay in of course.
When I was but a boy my older sister brought one home from a school holiday to Switzerland. I mention them because they are, in my opinion, an excellent (albeit very simplistic) way of visually describing DID/MPD. Only one of them came come forward and be out at a time and that person being forward and out means the other has to be in. So it is with DID/MPD.
Of course with DID/MPD whilst one person, (the core, central or host – depending on your terminology and personally I hate the term ‘host’) remains constant the other person can be any one of a number of persons depending on the DID/MPD and are of varying ages.
In terms of awareness the way it works for me is also very similar to the spindle effect of that little weather house.
When I – the core me – am out I tend for the most part (unless I totally zone out altogether as described above and in the Time Thief poem) to be aware of what is going on. But when I trigger my others (or alters – again depending on your prefered terminology) have the awareness and I have none.
There are of course times or a point where (just like in our little weather house) both I the core person and the alter are interchanging and side by side and I often do have some memories of these times depending on how gradually this happens each time. As I mentioned before it can be very sudden or seemingly even happen in my sleep.
And last night (or early this morning whichever it actually was) was one of those times when it either happened suddenly or when I was asleep as I have absolutely no recollection of how I got to be outside in a thunder and lightning storm
Thankfully, apart from being tired and having the inevitable headache that often follows such episodes I am fine and no damage or self-harm was done. The absence of any teddy bear or soft toy, plus the presence of pj’s indicates to me it was probably one of my older littles but I can’t be sure. Although their having of put on some shoes might have been a good idea DUH!
Of course these things bring embarrassment and frustration – although thankfully I think it happened too early for my neighbours to have seen me – and the tendency to get cross with your alters and want to punish them in some way.
But I think it is important to remember that they haven’t had the benefit of growing and learning and understanding and have probably had their fill of being misunderstood and unjustly punished. And after all there is a million miles between loving discipline and unjust punishment isn’t there?
So it is at times like these when I have to just be thankful that it wasn’t far worse and to hope that somehow they can learn and grow and that together we can heal.
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.
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’.
Since I am resting up today, I thought I would write you all a little story….
She stood looking out of the window at the world outside distorted through the raindrops which fell and clung to the glass.
They were but a simple sad reflection of the sorrow that seemed constantly to fall on her life and cling to her mind.
Sorrows that all too often distorted her view of life in the same way those raindrops distorted her view of the world outside. Sorrows which kept everyone else out and which kept her in
As she stood; looking, thinking, falling, a lone butterfly fluttered near as if seeking refuge from the storm.
Without thinking she gently lifted her fingers towards it seeking to offer it a resting place, a safe haven from the world.
But the same rain drenched distorted barrier which kept it out, kept her in and so neither could touch or connect with the other.
“We want to be free!” Her thoughts screamed in silence. “To run free, feel free, be free!”
“Once,” she called back, “we were free. A long time ago, long before this madness began, long before…”
Her thoughts gave way to memories. Memories of a time long ago a time. A time when even the rain that fell could bring happiness and fun.
“We want that again! We want to be free!” Her thoughts screamed in silence once more.
Without word she turned suddenly and rushed to the nightstand by her bed silently opening the drawer and pulling from it a pad and pen.
Sitting down on her bed she put pen to paper and gave voice, gave freedom to the thoughts that no-one else seemed to want to hear.
The hurts and fears which the world had long since banished to the isolated captivity of a ‘troubled mind’.
How long she had sat there pouring out her heart, her mind, her hopes and her hurts in that letter she could not say.
But once she had finished she looked at it momentarily. It had no beginning. No recipient’s name. No intimate personal end greeting. It was written to no-one and yet to everyone. It was written by someone who felt all to often like a no-one.
Tearing the letter from the pad and rising to her feet she discarded the pad and pen onto the bed. Pausing momentarily and glancing down at the pad and pen now laying on the bed, she could not help but note how life had discarded her as easily as she had done so them.
Through tear stained eyes she looked once more at the letter she clutched in here hands before turning and rushing out the door into the rain without thought of coat or hat.
Once outside she glanced both ways down the quiet early morning rain drenched street before moving on.
It was as abandoned of people as she was of cares.
Silently she ran down the street towards the river. Her thoughts had so desperately wanted to be free, to run free, feel free, be free and she was going to give that to them. Just this once she was going to give it to them.
As her soft bare feet splashed through puddles of rainfall so too did her mind through so many happy childhood memories and her heart through so many waves of release.
Finally reaching to the roadside which ran alongside and down to the old river she stopped. Holding out her rain dampened letter before her she looked as all the words were beginning merge into a blue inky stains. But it didn’t matter, they were there and she was there and that was all that mattered.
In reality she had run but a short distance from her home. And yet in truth she had run years from the captivity of her now to the freedom of her childhood.
Taking the letter containing so many of thoughts, her hopes, and her hurts she carefully folded it desperately and yet freely trying to remember the way and make the shape she used to do so all those years ago when her daddy taught her.
Stooping down she gently took the little paper sailboat she had folded from her letter and laid it onto the fast flowing stream of rain which she knew would soon join with the river and eventually the sea. Finally, her thoughts, her hopes, her hurts were free and finally, for that moment, perhaps for an hour, a morning, a day, even a week or two so would she be.
So there you have it – the short story I wanted to write you all. Writing is a passion of mine, I think it comes from writing stories and books for my kids.
Similarly, mental health is, as you know, also a passion of mine and I wanted to write a short story which demonstrated that even when our mental health is getting the better of us and we feel we have no one to talk to – there is still a way of getting those thoughts, those hopes, those hurts, out there and there is still a way we can find the release we so desperately need.
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…
At Christmas, When I was a young boy, (and yes there really was a time when I was young LOL) we used to get three sets of presents.
On Christmas morning our “main” presents would all be in my parents’ room. And each of us children would have a designated pile of presents and once awake we would all bundle into their and open our whilst our parents sat up in bed watching and supervising whilst sipping the early morning cups of tea which the butler had brought in.
The butler had of course been dismissed after serving the early morning refreshments as this was considered to be a ‘time for family only’.
Ok I’ll come clean, I made the whole butler part up as I realised on typing that we had ‘three sets of presents’ just how privileged that made us sound. And actually in some ways and compared to many kids, we were. But then money and material possessions doesn’t buy happiness and doesn’t mean we weren’t lacking in other areas.
But anyway, my parents’ room would indeed be where our main presents would be waiting for us and we would pile in there clutching the pillow cases full of smaller items which were hanging on the ends of our beds for us ready for when we awoke that morning. So the main presents was one set, the pillow case presents were another and in our family there was a tradition of our all each having further small presents on the actual Christmas Tree itself to be opened later in the day when more distant relatives came a calling.
These smaller presents (the ones on the tree and the ones in the pillow cases) were always referred to as ‘stocking fillers’ by sales assistants in the local shops and would be little toys, small pieces of seasonal fruit, nuts, boxes of sweets (candies), pen and pencil sets, colouring books, and puzzles.
Among my favourite of these being the puzzles and my very favourite puzzles where of chinese origin and made of wood. Barrels and Cubes and Pyramids etc which would only fit together if all the interlocking different pieces were assembled the right way.
Ones like these which I found at Creative Craft House.
As I said, they were my favourite and I absolutely loved them. So why am I writing this now? Am I getting my Christmas present suggestions in early this year?
LOL No not at all, actually I was thinking about some conversations I have been having lately and about therapy and the benefits of it.
Whilst it is true that some mental health conditions can result from neurology, chemical imbalances and genetics chemical or biological in origin or are influenced by these some are more circumstantial or even environmental in origin.
Very often the ability to work through issues that play heavily on our emotions or our minds can be vital to our coping and even removing those issues or the effects of them.
We often see this in children don’t we? They come to us as parents or teachers and share things that are concerning them and very often those things can be resolved just by working through them de-constructing them and reconstructing them in the right way.
Much like how those favourite puzzles of mine will only work when all the different shaped pieces are looked at and reconstructed the correct way.
And the same can be true with us as adults. Things that have burdened us, dragged us down, hurt us, confused us, debilitated us, caused us to question or even remove our self-worth, removed all our hope, can sometimes be worked through, de-constructed and reconstructed properly thereby freeing us from them. Or at very least helping us to cope with them better.
Of course if those things happened in our childhood or youth the resultant behaviour will no doubt have become habitual and can be hard to change. But good therapy considers this and integrate it into the whole process.
Today I have been fairly immobilized as a result of having to spend most of the day sat with my leg up and this has given me time to think.
How much of my mental health is affected by those things from my past which I have yet to fully work though? How much of yours is?
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.
I find that I am experiencing a certain level of anxious anticipation tonight. Thankfully it isn’t such a major thing and in truth I have been far more anxious at other times. But yes anxious anticipation is definitely the label I would put on how I am feeling this evening.
I find that sometimes, at times like these, I tend to zone out a little and to get lost in my own thoughts. I am sure I am not alone in this and that others will very easily understand where I am coming from.
Tomorrow sees my return to hospital for one of my regular monthly visits and those of you who follow this blog will perhaps recall that my last visit (which is over a month ago now due to my having been ill for the past two weeks) didn’t go so well.
In truth I have made some radical changes to my lifestyle and diet and have done a lot to try to improve things and change the prognosis that I was given – which was depressing to say the least. But I am very mindful that over the past two weeks my efforts have deteriorated drastically as a result of both my illness and the bad weather we have experienced of late.
What concerns me the most is how I am going to react if all of those efforts have shown little fruit or indeed if the past two weeks of flu (and the resultant relative lack of exercise) have undone what good I had done prior to it.
Obesity is a regular companion of depression and that coupled with my CFIDs and heart condition seems to place me in an ever-looping cycle of being able to work towards improved health and sustained life one day and not being able to the next. This can be particularly demoralizing especially when you live alone and effectively have no-one there to motivate and encourage you through the difficult times.
Please don’t get me wong here. I am not complaining, but simply stating the facts.
Thankfully I have an extremely strong faith and additionally I have a pretty well-honed sense of humor as well as such a wonderful bunch of blogging buddies who do provide so much wonderful support and encouragement. But there are lots out there who do not have these things and my heart really does go out to them.
But yes, tonight I am struggling and find that I am so very anxious, I need to rest but my mind won’t close down and I need to pray but I know that even that is going to be a struggle. I also need to sleep. It is almost 2 in the morning and I have to be up in a few hours in order to prepare to leave for the hospital.
So I am going to turn in and see if I can pray and can get some sleep. Tomorrow will bring whatever it brings and the Lord will help me through it.
I have to tell you, right from the outset, that within this post I have every intention of…
Making an announcement!
Sharing part of my own experiences with you.
Quoting an inspiring statement.
Publishing a list for you to look at.
Asking you to consider your own experiences.
Challenge my own understanding and approach
Encouraging you to challenge your understanding and approach.
Inviting you to join me in taking back something that has no doubt been stolen from us.
1) That announcement…
I am so very sorry to have to be the one to bring such shocking news to every one’s attention (and you may want to sit down for this one) but the truth is….
I am never ever going to fully grow up and I really don’t care what people think of me as a result of it!
There I have said it! There are, in my defense however, extenuating circumstances…
Firstly, I just don’t want to!
Secondly, I don’t think that any of us ever really should!
and,
Thirdly, there are just too many things out there that are just too darned funny not to laugh at them the way your average olden days naughty school kid would laugh at them.
But do you want to know the main reason why I am never ever going to fully grow up?
2) Part of my own experiences…
It’s because I have suffered from mental illness most of my life and one of the most horrific and yet often oh so subtle things that mental illness does is to try to rob you of all the wonderful things that should be associated with childhood.
It is something which I have always been very mindful of.
Even as a young child I prefered the company of adults rather than the company of my peer group. Why? Because that is what I wanted? No. It was because in the company of adults I was less likely to be found out as being ‘different’ because as a child in the company of adults I was automatically different, meant to be different, readily accepted as different.
As I said it is something that I have always been mindful of but I was in fact today reminded of it earlier when reading a blog written by another blogger whom I had awarded the Liebbster Award to.
3) An inspiring statement…
In his acceptance and response to that award and as one of his ’11 random facts’ he wrote the following words (which are copied and published here with the author’s full knowledge and very kind consent)…
I believe that there is no reason at all for us to ever “grow up” completely, and that those who put aside every aspect of their childhood are doomed to spend adult life wondering why they feel unfulfilled. I still jump in puddles, kick piles of leaves about, lie on my back and look for shapes in the clouds. I still read comic books alongside books on physics and mathematics. I still pull silly faces and make infantile noises when the mood is right. Part of me will never grow up, and I love that.
Oh how I so relate to and agree with that sentiment!
[For the record the blog in question is called 'Shitegeist' and I recommend it to you as well worth a visit and taking time to read!]
4) That List…
I am going to publish a list which is published on a website called ‘Whole Child Leon‘ and which is published as ‘Qualities to teach and nurture in a child”.
Affection
Awareness
Awe
Beauty
Caring
Celebration
Comfort
Commitment
Compassion
Confidence
Connections
Consequences
Conservation
Cooperation
Courage
Creativity
Curiosity
Cycles
Delight
Empathy
Empowerment
Fairness
Family
Friendship
Generosity
Gentleness
Goodness
Gratitude
Helpfulness
Home
Hope
Humor
Imagination
Independence
Joy
Kindness
Love
Nurture
Openness
Order
Patience
Peace
Positive
Quiet
Relationship
Respect
Responsibility
Reverence
Serenity
Sharing
Trust
Wholeness
Wonder
Worship
5) Asking you to consider your own experiences…
What I would very much like for you to do is to just scan down the above list and see how many of the ‘qualities’ listed therein you personally feel your mental illness has an impact on or even seems to try to remove from your life.
[I understand completely that some of the 'qualities' on that list seem to have a spiritual or even a Christian value or element to them. Well, that is understandable since Whole Child recognizes the existence and need for the inclusion of a spiritual aspect within their philosophy and since I myself am a Christian and very much believe that there is a spiritual aspect to all things.]
But the fact is that no matter what you personal belief system is I am fairly sure that if you are reading this and do indeed suffer with mental illness or poor mental health you will be able to agree that in your experience a great number of those ‘qualities’ are or have been affected, impacted and even sadly removed as a result of that mental illness or poor mental health.
And that for me is one of the saddest parts of it all.
6) Challenging my own understanding and approach…
I don’t mind telling you that I am now 50 years old! I am in fact a dad and a granddad as I have a biological son and numerous adopted children and grandchildren.
When I am needed to be dad I am a dad (or do my best to be dad).
When I am needed to be granddad I am granddad (or do my best to be granddad).
And the truth is that in either role I am me. BUT the truth is also that the me who is that Dad and that Granddad is also a son, and also child of God.
As a son I was raised with certain understandings and experiences and being taught certain things some of which are on that list above.
Actually an interesting consideration is however that even though many of the things on that above list were introduced to me, taught to me, encouraged in me some were specifically encouraged in me as a giver rather than a receiver of them since I was a ‘boy’/'young man’.
Coming to Christ taught me that actually it was totally acceptable for me to still be a child and a man at the same time and to receive and benefit from those things rather than just to have to give them.
And I thank God that I have recognized that and that sometimes I even have the mental and physical freedom to be those things.
Yes I am a 50 year old man and a dad and a granddad and yes I know that I have to do my best to be strong but what is wrong with someone even as big and old as me still recognizing that they are a child and worthy of love and affection and of freedom and fun.
Who says that I must always be the strong one?
Who says I must be provider of hugs, and comfort, and assurance and not the recipient of them, and that the only acceptable way to receive those things for me as a ‘man’ is “seldom” and “only in the arms of a partner/lover?”
How much am I missing by not allowing myself to be openly vulnerable, openly loved and openly treated as a son?
7) Encouraging you to challenge your understanding and approach…
I can’t help wondering how many others have difficulties with some of the things on that list, or indeed felt they too were only allowed to experience them in certain ways? I would also like to know how many others feel they too have to be the strong one, the provider, despite their mental health issues/challenges?
8) Inviting you to join me in taking back something that has no doubt been stolen from us…
Well here’s the deal, at least for me and I hope others. I am convinced that not only do I have total right to be a son/child when I need to be a son/child but actual to be that son/child is hindering to my healing.
I am going to stay young or at very least retain the freedom to be young as an when I need to and I am going to be vulnerable when I need to and to find strength and love in and through that vulnerability.
And I hope and pray others with understand where I am coming from and join me in this.
“I know you still have it.“ Claire announced quite unexpectedly.
“So, what if I have?” Sharon replied defensively. Not absolutely certain what Jane was referring but fairly sure she knew what it was.
“It isn’t good for you, you know that don’t you?“ Claire continued, concerned for her friend.
“You just don’t understand.“ Sharon replied angrily.
“Maybe not,” Claire agreed, “but I would like to.“
“Why?“ Sharon asked defensively. “So you can convince me to get rid of it?“
“But I care for you.“ The compassion and love in Claire’s tone were obvious, as was her intent. “And I don’t like to see you hurting yourself.“
“I am not hurting myself.“ Sharon countered, “and I never asked for this! It was forced on me!“ Her words trailed off as her thoughts took over for a moment. “And anyway perhaps I deserved it.” Her thoughts found voice.
“Really? Did you really deserve it? Still deserve it? Still have to continue paying for it?“ Claire asked, reaching out and grabbing her friend’s hands and looking her in the eyes.
“I had no choice.“ Sharon told her, pulling her hands away and turning her head so as to break her friend’s stare.
“No, maybe you didn’t.“ Claire agreed but with pan. “But you do now.“ She added deliberately.
“What am I supposed to do?“ Sharon challenged. “Just give it up, forget it was ever forced on me? Ignore all that is has cost me?“
“So what?“ Claire continued to challenge. “You are just going to go on holding on to it?“ She searched her friend’s thoughts. “Simply holding on to it? Being hurt by it and continually paying for it? Day after day, week after week, nightmare after nightmare?“
“What choice do I have?“ Sharon asked, as the tears formed in her eyes. “If I let go of it all I will have waisted everything I have paid so far.“
“But if you keep holding on to it you will keep on paying and you know it. Is it really worth it?“ Sharon asked challengingly.
“But what if I really did deserve it and what about everything I have already paid? What about how much it has already cost me?” Karen asked. “Do I just write that all off? Forget about it all? As if it was all for nothing? Forget I ever paid for it? That I ever owned it?“
“Oh Honey,“ Claire gasped as she grabbed her friend’s hands and with tears in her own eyes looked deep into the eyes of the friend she loved so much. The friend she knew was still hurting so very badly.
“Can’t you see? You have never owned it, it has always owned you and will continue to do so until you let it go.“
-oOo-
It’s a simple little story really isn’t it? Short, interesting, true to life. Something which a lot of us can relate to.
The fact is that it is not so simple a little story after all. It is in fact a conversation about a life of complex, deep-rooted, harmful pain. The results of years of poor communication, bad messages, harmful words and resultant corrupted and unhealthy self-image.
And the most tragic part of it all is that too many of us can relate to it because too many of us have lived it, are still living it.
We bought into the lies and the ridicule, the accusations and the negative criticisms, the rejection or misuse or abuse. And we bought into it with such a high price and one which we keep on paying “day after day, week after week, nightmare after nightmare“.
Repeatedly convincing ourselves that perhaps we “deserved it“.
Doing so because: when external voices are repeated often enough or by enough people they become our own internal voices.
Doing so because: we have to convince ourselves repeatedly as a result of the fact that somewhere deep down inside we doubt it’s validity and thus keep on arguing with ourselves.
Doing so because: to question whether we did really deserve it might put us in a position where we would have to question or be critical of those we love and trust despite the fact that they were the loudest of those external voices.
Doing so because: “if we really didn’t deserve it, if we are really not that person, then who am we?”
Doing so because: “we have paid so much for it already.”
Doing so because: “We haven’t yet realized that we don’t own it. It owns us!“
I have entitled this post ‘Depression and It’s Effects On Self-Esteem – The Naked Truth!’ and the first naked truth is that I have been struggling over whether to do this post for some time now.
The fact of the matter is that in order to do both it and it’s motivation justice I have to put it all out there and that is an extremely painful and difficult thing for me to do. But I have promised myself that I would do it.
And I have promised this because the truth is that I really do feel it is the only way and that it is very important. Especially since over the pat view weeks (both in conversations that I have had and also in blogs that I have read) I have witnessed a great deal of pain, hurt, embarrassment and even shame expressed by fellow mental health bloggers over their self-image, body shapes, physical features, weight etc.
Now I am a guy, and I fully accept that these things can often be different for a guy and that they seem to be somewhat; heightened, perhaps more severe even for women, but trust me it is hard enough for us guys. So sharing my experience (even from a guy’s perspective) whilst being all that I have to offer, will I hope encourage others as I do so desperately want to reach out to others who are suffering similar things.
So this is my poor, inadequate, offering – my attempt to do just that. And knowing my passion in this I apologize in advance for the length of this post – which will no doubt be fairly lengthy. But I do hope you will stay with me throughout it.
Depression and it’s effect on perceptions and feelings…
For this one I am going to use one of my own quotes…
Depression can bleach all the color from the most vividly chromatic rainbows.
I know of no better way of stating it and trust me a life without color is a life dulled into non-entity.
Imagine a life without colour if you can, one without feeling or even appreciation of experience. One where sometimes you will hurt yourself just to see if you can still feel something.
Depression and it’s effect on hope and motivation…
American Psychologist Rollo May stated that…
Depression is the inability to construct a future.
And I would certainly have to admit to understanding and relating to this sentiment. It is as some would say the inability to see the light at the end of the tunnel no matter who tells you that light is there.
But don’t be mistaken into thinking that for me (and many people like me) depression is the act of taking that ‘light at the end of the tunnel’ and convincing yourself that it is just another on-coming train about to smash you into oblivion.
I am sure that is true for some, but for me it simply isn’t so. For in that scenario that train offers and end, and in that end is escape from it all and thus hope.
I (in the depths of my depression) on the other hand know no such hope and thus all I see (if indeed I see that light) is a light at the end of the tunnel which no matter what I do will fade into nothingness before I even reach it or it me.
So there is little to no hope and with little to no hope comes little to no motivation. As all hope fades from the horizon, so too does you reason for being let alone your reason for doing and with not doing comes simply being. Being still, being inactive, being… on the road to protracted suicide by inactivity?
Depression and it’s effect on self-esteem/self-worth…
The writer David D. Burns wrote…
Depression can seem worse than terminal cancer, because most cancer patients feel loved and they have hope and self-esteem.
“can seem worse than cancer” because “most cancer patients feel loved and they have hope and self-esteem.” Chilling words aren’t they? Perhaps most chilling because for so many of us that is the truth that is experienced.
Let us recap for a moment here…
In the depths of depression there is often no color, no tangible sensations or feelings or even experiences. The nothingness has begun to consume you and in so doing it sucks all motivation and hope.
And what fills that void where once the hope and motivation lived? Well that one is easy – The negativity Family.
The negativity family – Self-doubt and it’s older brother self-hatred.
Anxiety and her older sister fear.
Hopelessness without her now aborted child motivation.
Displacement and his twin sister misunderstanding.
Am I painting too graphic and too dismal a picture here? Too graphic, too dismal? I am certain that those who are reading this who have experienced the depths of such depression won’t think so.
Your very reason for living can be lost and along with it your ability to live, leaving you only with existence.
Normal everyday activities such as washing, bathing, brushing your hair, cleaning your teeth, washing and changing your clothes can slip into normal every other day activities and then every other week and so on.
Why bother? After all, ask yourself why you do these things now? To please the ones you love? Because it is ingrained in who you are as a person? Because (as L’Oréal commercially puts it) you’re worth it?
See that is the thing isn’t it. You have no color, no motivation, no self-worth or self-esteem.
You don’t think about ‘pleasing the one you love’ – because you either can’t think about them or are convinced they are going to dump you anyway or simply believe they are better off without you and wish they would dump you.
You don’t know ‘it is ingrained in who you are as a person’ – because you are no longer the person you used to be.
You don’t buy the ‘because you’re worth it’ argument – because in your eyes you simply aren’t worth it.
So your personal hygiene starts to slip.
Your diet and eating habits suffer. Eating only now and then because someone makes you or eating too much because at least it is something tangible to break the nothingness or because at least it provides some feeling or sensation or comfort.
Relationships start to stress and crumble. Either because; you are putting less into them, or because others who are trying to help are doing so in the wrong way or you are perceiving that help in the wrong way, or because you have convinced yourself they are better off without you, OR because you are (as they will sometimes tell you) ‘no longer the person I knew and loved.’ Well DUH I am no longer the person I knew and loved.
Social activates even work activities reduce and cease as; you can no longer cope with them, become too self-conscious as a result of your worsening personal hygiene, or because of your black moods, or because you are simply lost to those worlds now.
Financial burdens start to form as a result of lack of income due to lack of activity or poor spending as a result of trying to find some tangible instant gratification or some quick fix. This in turn can affect your diet and personal hygiene.
The self-perpetuating downward spiralling cycle…
Reduced personal hygiene, reduced eating or over eating or poor eating, reduced social contact, reduced income, reduced activity and mobility.
Can you imagine what this all does to your skin, your weight, your body shape?
Can you imagine what that in turn does to feed those negative self-deprecating thoughts?
Can you see how these all impact and play into each other? Can you see the self-perpetuating downward spiralling cycle that has begun and which is so very hard to break free from?
At the start of this piece I promised you the truth and the fact of the matter is what I have written thus far is the truth for too many of us with mental health and (specifically but not exclusively) depression related issues.
This is a picture taken just before my mental and physical breakdown back in 1999. It shows my wife and my son and how I looked back then.
Back then when I was that person. That person who was before the person that I am now.
That person before the depression took control and before that self-perpetuating downward spiralling cycle took hold.
When I started this article I promised you the truth and the truth is that I am no longer that person and will never be that person again.
My son – bless his heart is much older now and has (like my faith) been a God-send and a life saver for me.
My wife – bless her heart did so very much, put up with so very much but in the end I “was no longer the person she married or the person she loved” and so she (in many ways understandably) moved on to a new relationship.
When I started this piece I promised the truth and did so because…
over the pat view weeks (both in conversations that I have had and also in blogs that I have read) I have witnessed a great deal of pain, hurt, embarrassment and even shame expressed by fellow mental health bloggers over their self-image, body shapes, physical features, weight etc.
Take another look at that photo for me. That was who I was before the depression took control and the truth is that I will never be that person again.
Why? Because I have changed and because those things that I shared above I shared out of personal experience.
I promised you the truth – the naked truth – well here it is….
I know first hand and all too well those feelings of pain, hurt, embarrassment and even shame over self-image, body shape, physical features, weight etc because of what I have let my body become.
They are soul destroying and they drive us into retreat and isolation and seclusion and defeat.
But they are not who we really are and we are not just what we or anybody else sees on the outside.
No matter how unappealing, distasteful and even hideous our outsides may seem to us, (and trust me it pains me and embarrasses me for anyone to see me like this) we are worth loving and worth that fight for recovery!
In truth I have no idea if this post has made any sense what so ever. I have written and deleted, re-written and altered it, delayed it, and re-thought it and struggled over it more than any other post that I have written.
It is my sincerest desire that I have not offended anyone through this post or that last photo. But I took it and included it because I want so very much to encourage and to do so from a place of empathy and of saying…
“Look at me. If anyone knows those self-hating, self-deprecating thoughts of shame and embarrassment I do. But try to see beyond my obvious embarrassment and pain and shame and please try to understand that despite it all I still believe there is hope and that each and every one of us is worthy of that hope and worthy of fighting for that recovery.”
Although I generally keep my faith fairly low key on this particular blog (as it’s main purpose is not to talk about faith but instead about mental health issues) today I wanted to share something that has been on my heart.
As a Christian who suffers from Mental health issues, including depression and suicidal ideation, I am very much aware of what these things can do to you.
They can make you feel so worthless and remove the site of any hope, as well as potentially leading you to urges to self-harm and indeed thoughts of ending it all etc. they can undermine your faith and indeed your self-worth.
Psalm 23 has always been important to me and has been on my heart for a while now. It can also, I believe speak directly into many of those self-harm, suicidal ideation and lack of self-worth issues that I talked about.
So today I thought I would look at Psalm 23 and take a look at it specifically in respect of those issues and the comfort and assurances and encouragements that it can offer…
Psalm 23 NIV
(Words of the psalm are in red – my reflections are in black)
1 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
I wonder if you have ever considered the role of the Shepherd? What he does? What kind of person he is? What he offers or provides for the sheep?
Historically the shepherding was usually done by the young son of the father – sound familiar in a Christian context? He tended the sheep, looked after them. He knows the sheep, recognizes them, knows their characteristics, natures, personalities. Knows which ones need a lot of looking after and which ones need a lot of watching lol.
He provides belonging and indeed security, protection, nutrition, guidance.
Does he keep them from death entirely? No of course not death – at least death on this earth – comes to us all, but he protects and keeps them until the time is right for them. Doing all he can to keep them from wandering into places where untimely death is a very real threat.
How often does that suicidal ideation bring us to those dangerous places where an untimely death is possible? This is not his desire for us and he will do all he can to lead us away from there. (As we will see) But we do need to listen to his voice and trust in him – something that can be so very hard at times I know.
We are part of his flock, his sheep and they are his and he cares for them and provides for them. So in truth (despite thoughts top the contrary) I am his, we are his, and he cares for us and provides for us and no matter what the depression says, no matter what the poor self-image or the damaging voices or thoughts of worthlessness may say the fact is that is true and the fact it that we belong and he desires for us to belong.
Does not this psalm talk and indeed the very first verse speak of that, establish that? “The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.”
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
The shepherd wants us to lie down in green pastures green pastures are a sign of provision, safety and security. Soft grass to lay on and to graze on. Not rocky roads, not bramble-filled hedge rows.
The key words here for me are ‘lie down’. I have no doubt, from my understanding of the Bible and indeed from my own personal experience of life that there will indeed be rocky roads and bramble-filled hedge rows along our journey, but does he want for us to remain on them? To rest of them? No not at all. It is in green pastures where he wants for us to lay down. And check out this next bit if you are unsure.
he leads me beside quiet waters,
“Quiet waters” are a representation of peace and tranquility and again of provision – for do we all not need to drink? Where is it safest to drink? In a noisy rapid moving stream or in the quiet stiller waters?
And again check out the key words in this sentence – He “leads me”. The expression is not ‘sends me’ or ‘drives me’ but ‘leads me’. There is no separation here. We have not been sent off alone but instead he is taking us with him, we are together.
3 he refreshes my soul.
Some have described the soul as being the essence of who we are – mind (reasoning, intellect, information, memory etc), will and emotions. So bearing this in mind, check out that word – “refreshes“‘.
In the original Hebrew the word used here is ‘שׁוּב’ or ‘shûb’ and it means to refresh or to restore. Ever wondered why that word is there?
All too often, in my opinion, we have soft-sold Christianity and faith, giving the impression that in Christ we should have no difficulties or trials or illnesses or hurts. This is simply not true in my opinion and the fact is that we will have trials and difficulties and illnesses and hurts and we will get tired and weak.
“He refreshes (or restores) my soul“. Why? Because my soul, your soul, is no doubt going to encounter difficult times and suffer weakness and tiredness along the way and so those damaging, harmful doubting voices which base their condemnations or sew those seeds of doubt on our weaknesses and tiredness have no power and no truth because we all get that way and God knows we will and His word not only acknowledges it but makes provision for it.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Again the key word here is “guides” and again the picture is not one being ‘sent’ but one being ‘led’. It is in fact in the Hebrew the word ‘נחה’ or ‘nâchâh’ and that means to ‘bring’ to ‘guide’ to ‘lead’.
And why? Because of anything we have earned? No not at all but for HIS name sake not our. Thus we cannot say or think that we are ‘unworthy of’ or ‘unacceptable for’ this as it is because of him and not because of us that he does this.
4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley, (Or the valley of the shadow of death) I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
There is potential imminent danger and sadness here isn’t there? The “darkest valley” or “the valley of the shadow of death“. How many of us have known those dark valleys? How many of us who suffer from suicidal ideation have had that shadow of death fall upon us?
And yet even in these potentially dangerous and dark times there is a promise of hope and security here. “I will fear no evil“ Why? Because “You are with me” and “Your rod and your staff they comfort me“.
Yes there is certainly hope and security to be taken from those words. And again we need to recognize that the presence of “dark valleys” and “shadows of death” are acknowledged as being something that we will experience.
The rod and the staff offer authority, protection and security and are integral tools for the shepherd and we understand and recognize this and we know their need and place in our lives. The rod protecting us from the prowling wolves and the staff guiding us and directing us and also being used to pluck us from the mire.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
And not only does the shepherd keep us from that danger and from that untimely death but he prepares “a table before me“. He feeds us and provides us all that we need for life.
And what is more he does it “in the presence of my enemies“. We don’t have to wait until everything is safe and sound before he provides for our future. He does it throughout it all. So secure, so powerful is his authority and are his abilities that he can do this even whilst danger is around us. And again there is that recognition that danger is around us.
You anoint my head with oil;
‘anointing with oil‘ in the bible has a number of uses, healing, protection, a sign of importance or worth. Oil in those days was by no means cheap. If you are having your head anointed with oil it is a sign of your being worth something, being valued.
When those poor or harmful self-image or self-worth doubts come this is an excellent thing to remember. “You anoint my head with oil.” We are worth something! We are valued!
my cup overflows.
I love this simple statement. “my cup overflows“ Not only do you provide what I need but even more than that. And I like that statement for another reason…
Many years ago I was at some celebration or another and an expensive bottle of champagne was opened and shared around. It was poured into the first glass with great pleasure and happiness and with too much enthusiasm. So naturally it fizzed up and overflowed out of the glass.
Not wishing for any of the valuable drink to be wasted others placed their glasses underneath in order to catch as much of the overflow as possible.
How much more valuable is his provision for us? When it overflows, are we to waste it or to share it with others? I think the answer is pretty obvious here – we are to share it with others.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow meall the days of my life,
“Surely“ it is a statement not a question. Take a look at the whole sentence, there is no question mark here. Positively, certainly, your goodness and love with follow me…
Goodness and love cannot follow someone unless goodness and love is what they have with them and what they have shown and shared. The legacy we leave to our children is built of what we have shown to or shared with our children.
And we are not only talking about the legacy we leave behind after our life on earth is over. Not at all. Take a look at the rest of this line will follow me “all the days of my life“.
This is a constant thing a here and now thing.
If “surely“, or positively or certainly, “goodness” and “love” are that which is to follow us then “surely“, positively and certainly, “goodness” and “love” is what we need to be sharing and leaving behind us not only when we die but after each conversation, each encounter with someone, each interaction.
Now obviously none of us are perfect and we are going to mess up every now and again and indeed fail in this, but it is good target to have is it not?
And surely that “goodness” and “love” is made possible because of all the thing that the Lord has and is and will do for us. For it comes first from him, then to us and then through us to others – my cup overflows.
and I will dwell in the house of the Lordforever.
And here is that glorious promise! “and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever“.
The shepherd will, if we; listen to him, stay close to him, rely on him, and trust in him, even and especially in those times of darkest trouble bring us through it all and will do so until our time is right and even beyond it so that through him we can secure that glorious prize – the one intended for us all. eternal life with him.
So there you have it. Why psalm 23 is such an important psalm to me and why I think it can bring such comfort in times of darkness and when the depression and the urges to self-harm or when the suicidal ideation hit.
There are many different perspective concerning mental illness and indeed Bipolar Disorder itself. Some have remarked that the manic part of bipolar is a complete high. The ‘funfair’ part of it all if you will.
Well I personally don’t think the manic part is always a high in terms of ‘happiness’ or fun and I have to ell you that if the manic part is a fun fair the depressed part is definitely the wasteland.
Actually, if you talk to folk who suffer with poor mental health or with mental illness, you get used to words such a “phases” and “episodes” and “levels” and “cycling”.
There is nothing unusual in this and indeed most things have associated with them certain terminology or jargon that is appropriate to that thing.
You might for example hear or read someone saying they think they are entering or exiting a “manic phase” or going into or indeed coming out of a “depressive phase”. And indeed that is perfectly understandable and quite common especially in respect of something like bipolar which in many ways is not only identified but also measured/judged by said phases.
The difficulty is however that it can lead to the misunderstanding or misconception that it has to be one or the other.
The fact is however that in my experience it simply doesn’t and that whilst certainly the ‘poles’ that are synonymous with bi’polar’ disorder are often present there is the huge area inbetween the ‘funfair’ and the ‘wasteland’.
What is also possible and in my personal experience often happens is that you can sometimes be in some yoyoing flux combining elements of both poles.
This weekend seems to have been one such time. Sometimes I am up and other times I am suddenly down and I can find no clear reason for the sporadic variation.
I have, on the face of it, had a really good weekend and have achieved a great deal but along side this I have felt like ‘death warmed up’ and each and every time I see a positive – something I have achieved this weekend – my mind (as if to turn right around, drop its pants, and moon me) throws out the awareness of a number of things that I have also failed to achieve.
I have had a great weekend in so many respects but I am aware that there are things I didn’t achieve but wanted to. I am going to try to remedy that tomorrow.
My physical health has been very poor this weekend and this has been a bit of a downer as it has hindered my attempts to get healthier. (you can follow these attempts here) And fortunately I have been able to achieve some stuff despite this. But it has been my mental health which has been the biggest concern to me.
In many ways it has been good but then right in the middle of my thinking it is good it would suddenly crash and for no apparent reason.
I need to keep an eye on this as these are often the times which prove the most harmful and tonight I have the urge to self-harm. I don’t think I will respond to it badly of follow the urge but it is definitely there. Urges and compulsions are a facet of my mental health and I am very much aware of this but then even being aware doesn’t always remove the risk. I am going to go do some things to try to distract my mind and also to hopefully tire myself out so that I can sleep tonight.
I wonder how many of you were shocked by it, possibly even drawn to it with shocked curiosity? Expecting to see some reference to a new article or some tabloid headline?
LOL Perhaps you just saw that it was one of my headlines and thought “There he goes again!”
Well, thankfully it is not from some news article or a tabloid headline – although sadly even in this day and age it quite possibly could be. Actually it isn’t even about a physical, flesh and blood child at all but about a child, about children, who are in many ways, at least in the opinion of this writer, just as important.
It is about something that I have been thinking about as a result of a statement my blogging buddy over at ‘underground‘ made in her piece ‘Self-sabotage and shame‘ (which is an excellent piece by the way).
In her piece she made the statement..
I could feel my (inner) child clinging to others,
It was a seemingly simple statement held within a much more complex article and one full of emotion and reflection. But it was that simple statement which launched (as is often the case) my mind into hours of personal reflection and consideration. One which led me to ask the question…
What happens to our inner child? Especially when that inner child is held within a person who suffers from mental illness or poor mental health?
Is he, is she, permitted to live or did he or she get lost somewhere, buried somewhere, caught somewhere – between the cross-fire of suffering mental illness and trying to live a ‘normal’ life?
I think the reality is that for so many of us that inner child is suppressed, lost or buried as we get older. In fact I would go as far as to say that in my opinion it is what we are taught and what is expected of us.
I am English by birth and come from a Royal Navy family. Boys were expected to grow into men and to be men. Attitudes like “Boys don’t cry”, ‘be a man’, ‘you’re not a child anymore’, ‘you need to grow a back-bone’ and ‘it’s time to man up’ were not unfamiliar to me. Indeed they were almost the mantra of both my school, my recreational and my home life.
Likewise, girls were expected to grow into young ladies and to be little women before becoming women and wives and mothers.
Actually there is nothing wrong with either of those things in my opinion but I have to question whether it has to be at the total cost of our inner child?
I have to tell you that I for one don’t think so and I will go even further. I personally believe that the loss of our ‘inner child’ – be it through denial, suppression or simple lack of contact, – can be one of the most harmful and debilitating things that can happen to us.
And here is why I believe this. I am convinced that at the outset we and our inner child are one.
As we grow our inner child grows also and with balance and the right upbringing we learn to be able to be at peace with each other and to have an almost symbiotic relationship knowing when to be adult when we need to but also being free enough to allow our inner child to come out when it needs to or should that be when we need it to.
Afer all, aren’t some of the most precious and most beautiful moments in life when we see and are shown innocence, purity and vulnerability – child likeness in each other within the right settings?
But when the growth and development – that very freedom to be – is removed or stifled in our inner child it can cause many untold problems.
Being struck with mental illness – especially at an early age – can without doubt in my opinion do this.
We have to spend so much time focussing on or dealing with our mental health, on facing the torments, on winning over it – which after all is measured in many ways by how supposedly ‘normal’ we can be – that we somehow lose that innocence, that freedom to be childlike.
And let us be real here, very often that freedom is also partially removed from us by well intentioned others who focus so much of their efforts on encouraging us to be ‘normal’, ‘rational’, ‘sensible’, dare we say ‘grown up’.
And there is something else which we really do need to take into consideration here.
Mental illness can place tremendous strains on relationships and can serious alter perceptions. Both of which in turn can impair or effect both our and our inner child’s development. If this happens in early life it can be crippling and add emotional anguish and heartache to that mental anguish and pain.
I am fifty years old and a father, and a grandfather. I have serious mental health issues and I recognize that and face my responsibilities regardless of that. But I know, and am not afraid to admit it, that additional to my mental health issues I have other hurts and issues and those hurts nd issues include the emotional hurts experienced by my inner child. Hurts which only serve to complicate and add to my mental health issues.
The truth is I know I am an adult and I have no problem with that. But I also know I have an inner child and I want that inner child to heal and be free because without that happening I seriously doubt I will ever heal or be free.
So I ask you. How’s your inner child today? When was the last time you let him, her out? Is your inner child hurting? Does your inner child need a healing and freedom that only you can permit?
Somethings are desperately uncomfortable to talk about aren’t they?
Like traumas supposedly buried in our pasts, or when you are tragically hurt by someone, or a lie you are forced to live because other’s just won’t understand.
I think Paranoia, Guilt and Insecurity can be some of the things that we find hard to talk about, or at least I do. But I am at the moment in a terrible slump – amidst the nothingness as I put it – and so now is possibly a good time to talk about these things.
Paranoia. Yes I suffer from paranoia. Really bad paranoia at times and no I don’t often talk about it.
Why don’t I talk about it? Well there are numerous reasons really. Some you might understand even agree with and some you might think are just weird. And hey ho that is ok. We are all entitled to our own opinions.
One reason is that I don’t want people walking on eggshells around me. I want to be treated for the me I am mostly not the freaked out weird me that happens every now and then. And before my inbox is flooded with folk challenging me or reprimanding me for the “freaked out” and “weird” labels above, I understand how wrong and unhealthy they are but I also know how very real those self-applied labels are to me at times.
Another reason is that I don’t want to feed into anyone else’s insecurities of paranoia. Trust me it can happen.
Thirdly I don’t want other to use my paranoia or mental health as an excuse to justify or excuse their bad behaviour and yes that can happen a lot as well.
The last reason, (or at least the last one I can think of at this time) is that as a Christian I am always concerned about seemingly being a bad witness. A fear which is often fed into by well-meaning but extremely harmful Christians who ask such questions as “do you think it could be demon-possession?” or “is there something wrong with your faith do you think?”
And if anyone is out there thinking yeah that is how I always thought of it, let me share the words of Matthew 4:24 from the KJV with you…
“And his (Jesus) fame went throughout all Syria: and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and he healed them.”
In the above passage there are 6 different types of illnesses here and a distinct difference is made between ‘demon possession’ and the others including ‘lunatic’ which is to say ‘moonstruck’ or as we would say nowadays – those who have mental illness. (Thayers also suggests that this could also mean the epileptic although it state this is dubious)
But no matter what reason I have for my seldom discussing my paranoia, the fact is that it is a very real and frequent part of my mental health and thus my life.
And paranoia is not a stand alone condition in as much as it never just stops at the paranoia. It creates further damage and damage that seeps into so many other aspects of your life.
And it often undermines and fractures what little stability you have.
Insecurity is one of the spin-offs of paranoia.
It can be cancerous in it’s effects and can damage and harm your perceptions and understandings and even more than that it can cause behaviours and responses which can so seriously and detrimentally impact your relationships.
Anyone who has, despite their best efforts, reacted badly as a result of a severe bout of paranoia will know the intense and extremely disturbing sensation of being left naked, judged and vulnerable as a result of that reaction and the fear of how those who have witnessed it are now going to treat you.
Which brings me to the last of this trinity of torment that of guilt.
Guilt. Along with that insecurity – that naked vulnerability and fear I spoke about above comes the guilt. Guilt which can plague you and eat away at you.
Guilt in and of itself is not a bad thing. It’s function is to motivate change. It’s unpleasantness is designed to cause us to address, repair or right any wrong that we may have done. And having done so that guilt no longer serves any positive purpose and thus should be got rid of.
But what if your mind will not let go of it? What if that paranoia, that insecurity, continue to fuel that guilt?
I have written about how harmful guilt can be in my post entitled Guilt-Edged Bonds and it really is something that I and I know many folk who suffer from paranoia struggle with.
When I do something wrong I want to make amends for it. To right that wrong. To face the consequences if you will. It is a big thing for me and I am sure I am not alone in this. I think it is all wrapped up in a deep desire to not allow my illnesses to have that much control or impact on my relationships coupled with an equally deep desire to not be treated ‘differently’ as a result of those illnesses.
So there you have it. A trinity of torments that so many of us can so easily go through.
In the slump, the nothingness that I wrote of the other day, this is the next phase it seems – the torments.
It is something that I have to try and remember and especially when it comes to my health – both mental and physical.
It sounds silly doesn’t it? And certainly (as the above graphic proves) we can make light of it all. But it really can be a serious issue especially when it comes to mental illness.
I think one of the problems stems from how we see ourselves. It is something that I was reflecting on after having read numerous posts over the past few months in which folk were experiencing some negativity and feelings of failure as a result of the limitations that their mental health has placed on them. No longer being able to do what they used to be able to do each and every time they need or want to do so. And certainly I am guilty of the same kind of reactions.
But that is the reality of it all isn’t it? I can no longer always so readily or so easily do the the things I used to do because in truth I am no longer the person I used to be.
At my heart, my core, I am of course still that person but now I am that person with Mental Health issues. And I need to recognize and more importantly accept myself as that. Because if I see myself as anything different am I not deluding myself and setting myself up for failure and feelings of inadequacy?
Additionally if I accept myself for who I am I can then also have a tangible and realistic goal – that of getting better or managing my illness to the best of my ability.
So the question is this.
Do I see myself as a perfectly well person who periodically experiences episodes of illness which in turn debilitate me – sometimes causing me to under-achieve and to fail to do the things I want to do?
or
Do I see myself as someone who unfortunately has serious mental health issues but who despite these is doing my best to manage my condition and who is sometimes able to achieve the things and do the things I want to do despite that illness(s)?
What I am talking about here is of course perspective.
I think many of us who do suffer from poor mental health will, at one time or another, felt unjustly judged or criticized by someone as a result of their not fully understanding, recognizing or taking into account the limitations and effect our mental health places upon us. BUT aren’t we also guilty of doing the same thing to ourselves?
“I am my own worst enemy” or “I am my own worst critic” are phrases that are often heard and the reason they are often heard is because they carry a truth that is applicable to so many of us.
The truth is that I do not wear my underpants on the outside, I do not have a big red ‘S’ on my chest and I am not superhuman! I am as normal as the next person but my ‘normality’ is often affected by serious challenges and restrictions that many folk thankfully don’t experience.
And accepting myself as such is not defeatism it is realism!
Defeatism would be accepting the reality of those limitations and effects of my mental illness, not recognizing the benefits of it (and yes there can be some), and doing nothing in order to live the quality of life I and everyone else has a fundamental human right to live.
That is not what I do and that is not what I am going to do.
So next time you see me coming down hard of myself as a result of my not being able to do something because of my mental health you have my permission to remind me that “I don’t wear my underpants on the outside.” All I ask in return is that the next time you come down hard on yourself as a result of the same thing you remind yourself of that truth also.
And if you ever do see me physically wearing my underpants on the outside, just smile sweetly, put your arm around me and lead me gently to a place of safety
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.
