Tag Archives: suicide

Truth & Grace

Christ died for ME last Easter. Every Easter Christ’s resurrection has meaning but March of 2016, I had the notion through my mental illness fogged thinking that THIS Easter I was going to die and rise along with Christ. In this deep depression and hopeless I somehow thought this symbolism would bring less pain to my children and husband.

March 2016, I lay in bed and helped with the Easter church preparation; my daughter’s dress, hair bows, all in place. As my family prepared to go to church I prepared for my death and what I hoped would be my resurrection. Revolver or glock? I was going to free us all from this misery that was me, I was going to lay next Christ that very day WHOLE finally. I prayed that Christ would provide a beautiful woman to cherish my husband and children in ways that I could not.

I share with you the thoughts of suicide so you can see the lack of clarity and rationale that can be stripped away by an organ that is not functioning as it should, whether it be because of genetic neurological wiring and or life circumstances. Doctors can amputate an appendage that no longer works, organs can be transplanted, skin can be grafted but when the brain is damaged or not functioning we are left with much less remedy.

We are left with pills, therapy, hospitalization (which consists of more pills and therapy) and if you’re brave/desperate enough you can do shock therapy. When you’ve done this pill and therapy process for years to no avail it is difficult to accept that what’s being offered isn’t working or is no longer working.

The true reality of this manifests itself in the fact that many commit suicide by shooting themselves in the head …they are taking out the source of pain, the part of them that betrays their sense of reality and robs them of peace. This was my desperate intent that Easter Day, a new beginning for all of us, free of illness.

That Easter Day WAS a new beginning for me and my family and it did come through death … but not my own. That Easter Day I became keenly aware of the fact that blood had already been shed, I just had to mentally reconcile that it was shed for ME. the blood that ran from Christ’s hands and down his wrists covered those that felt the need to cut, that the blood that ran from his head covered those that felt the need to take their own life … i was spared … I was aware of the pain that day that Christ felt both physically and mentally, the isolation. I committed that day to either end my life or try to live again a new way. I chose the latter and began rebuilding my life.

Since March 2016 I have run/walked 1,200 miles, lost 80 pounds, changed my diet, been sober a year, given up pharmaceuticals for Natural/ alternative meds, began studying MINDFULNESS, meditation and began accepting the fact that my family already had a beautiful woman to cherish them and with Christ filling in the gaps … she’s enough. Each one of these changes required commitment, discipline, TRUTH  and GRACE for myself. It required a complete reset of my mind, it was not easy and remains work, but I’m grateful for the opportunity for recovery .. not complete healing, I will always bare this cross but I don’t bare it alone.

I don’t share this for praise, or to solicit any kind of response, it’s really not about me in the end … Anyone can accomplish any of these goals .. I share it to give hope, to those that quietly suffer, to those that want more than to be numb, for those that feel that their burden is too heavy, to those with a chronic illness to which there is no end date … YOU can do this, there is hope, there is peace, there is love for you. Find it in Christ, find it in nature, find it in your family, and find it within yourself … it’s there I promise ❤️

Robin William’s Legacy ISN’T Dictated By his Final Act

July 21, 2015 Robin Williams would have turned 64, sadly he missed his birthday because he lost his battle with Bipolar Disorder. I am grieved that he suffered, that he gave so much to everyone else, brought joy and laughter to children and adults for over thirty years but couldn’t find place of peace within himself.

I’m sad for him, for myself and others that suffer from this unkind disorder. It can bring such energy and unfiltered enthusiasm, an unattainable idealism that makes it hard to thrive under normal means. It can bring one to such places that normalcy is completely without merit, and then swing you to a place of complete darkness and despair. Neither of which, are healthy places to live mentally for any length of time.

I understand the strain of years of this cycle, of this emotional pull to be on top of the world, and to not want to return to the darkness. I believe Robin thrived and made his living off of his manic phases, he entertained us and made us laugh, we loved him when he was in this place that brought us out of ourselves and brought joy to our lives.

He had a gift definitely, and he was able to find a way to use the attributes of BD in a positive way. Sadly, it must have been exhausting both physically and mentally to try to sustain his life in one realm of this disorder. I know he struggled with substance abuse for years, like so many of us with Bipolar Disorder, where I’m sure he was able to numb some of this struggle.

I think perhaps acting became a burden to him when he was depressed and I’m sure relying on it to provide for himself and his family was overwhelming at times, when he had nothing to give, much less sustain himself with. Despite all this, I think he probably had many years of satisfaction vocationally, contributing to other’s lives, making them laugh … one thing I’m sure he wanted for himself.

I wish Robin could have shared his struggles, his other side, the depressed, grieved part of himself. I would have still loved him, and I would like to think others could have handled his honesty, but as I say that I realize that mental health stereotypes still exist and the public eye can be harsh.

To some his suicide was eye-opening, perhaps now they’re able to see that mental illness can affect anyone, it doesn’t discriminate, by wealth, talent or intellect and it can very easily take all of that from you if you don’t take care of yourself. Which is not to say that he wasn’t taking care of himself, he may have been making his best effort. I also know he had physical health problems and financial struggles which I’m sure contributed to his suffering.

Others, took his suicide as an opportunity to self-righteously judge that which they truly don’t understand because it’s never been in their arm’s length. Which saddens me. Mental illness in my life has caused enough pain that I’m able to have empathy for others when they struggle even when it’s with a battle I’m not familiar with. I’m not judging his final act, instead I’m grateful for the legacy he left, R.I.P. Robin Williams.

Take Your Meds

I just recently read an article on FB about a 29 year old who lost her battle with mental illness (specifically Bipolar Disorder) and I grieved for the loss, both as a parent and as a person who struggles with BD.

The FB post written by her mother described this beautiful girl who was diagnosed while in college after experiencing a psychotic break. She went on to be diagnosed, hospitalized and then medicated. She did this cycle a few times over a couple of years and then tragically took her own life after deciding she no longer needed medication.

It saddens me that so many with Bipolar Disorder lose their struggle with the illness because of their resistance to medication. I understand the draw to go back, to continue on with the self you know, in the life you recognize, and I have had to do some grieving and soul searching and sacrificing and recreating of myself but I don’t see any other way.

I’m at a stage in my life where I have too much to lose if I don’t take care of myself, and live a more balanced life. I have a husband and children depending upon me, to be the best me I can be and that’s what I’m choosing.

My medication has changed me, it’s undeniable. I’m more flat, in my emotions, and my personality. I’m not as much fun or drama, some of my quick wit, sarcastic humor and loud mouth are gone. I’m more reserved, in my approach to life, to friends, in my openness, and I’m less social.   I’m a little slower mentally, tired a lot more, and sadly gaining weight because I don’t have the energy or desire most of the time to exercise. This doesn’t seem like much, but knowing yourself and attributes and then having them change after forty years is definitely an adjustment.

I stick with my medication regiment because despite the fact that I miss parts of my old self, I just can’t do the scattered chaos anymore. I am much calmer now, I yell less, I cry less. I am a more patient mother and much more loving wife.   The medication helps me relax more, emotionally and mentally, it has slowed down some of my OCD and perfectionism and has left me with more acceptance and less judgement for myself and others.

I wish I could have it all, but I realize with any kind of illness you have to pick and choose what you can and can’t live without. Since being medicated, I haven’t had the extent of mania or depression I used to have, no more days in bed struggling to function, and no more manic frenzy, crazy driving and racing thoughts of running away.

The days are more quiet and calm, I’m more of a homebody now, less inclined to be social at the drop of a hat. It’s a slower pace of life than I’m used to. No more jumping around mentally from vocational, entrepreneurial and college idea to idea. I’m settling in. To myself, to my life. I’m ok with letting go of my old frantic being that was constantly evolving in my mind. No more rush of mania to make me feel inflated, I realize now that the mania isn’t any more real than the depression that haunted me, I have to dwell in the middle ground like others. Actually, I don’t HAVE to but I NEED to for my own sanity and for my family’s semblance.

My point being, my life isn’t perfect with meds, but it’s more of a life. Please take your medicine. Don’t let this monster kill you, because on your good days, the deception is your better and you don’t need the medication. Don’t lie to yourself, be willing to see that this is a life-long illness that ebbs and flows, it will grow old with you, but let it, treat it, so you get the opportunity to have an end that is fitting. Take your illness and recovery seriously.

I know there are some that medication isn’t working or hasn’t worked in the past and my heart and prayers go out to them. I pray that they don’t give up in the meantime, that God gives them enough hope to keep them going and that there will be an end to their pain with some sort of advancement within the science and medical community that helps them.

I pray that prayer for all that suffer under the stronghold of mental illness, I pray for more recovery, more joy, and more sustainable well and long lived lives especially for those that are young and just starting out on this journey. Please take your medicine.

Suicidal Cancer

If you were diagnosed with cancer and had years of; treatments, prescriptions, hospitalizations, of pain, that stopped you from living any sort of normal life, with no guarantee of recovery, would you feel hopeless? If you had to live with this set of circumstances for years; five years, ten years, twenty years, a lifetime, would you question your ability to go on? How much heartache would you carry while others went on and lived normally healthy lives, while your existence was consumed with one thing … CANCER.

Sadly, for some people mental illness isn’t much different, it’s a debilitating illness that effects every aspect of their lives. This isn’t a cause and effect situation, there isn’t anything they did to cause it, nothing they could have done to prevent it.  They felt pain, suffered, saw a doctor, got a diagnosis, worked on treatment options and went on trying to live. For some, this means years of exhausting many treatments options, many hospitalizations, many broken relationships, many job loses, all due to an illness that unfortunately Science hasn’t been able to cure yet.

When we describe mental illness but give it a different title that people can relate to, like cancer, people are able to see it in a new light. When we think in terms of uncurable cancer, it seems understandable that there would be a loss of hope in one’s life. People are able to muster up some sympathy for a person in this situation.

I know as humans we judge others out of our own experience, traditions, and religion or otherwise personal belief system and I try to keep that in mind when reading others views on mental illness and suicide, but at times I find it difficult. I can always tell when some famous writer tries to tackle the idea of suicide and they have no personal experience in dealing with debilitating mental illness.

I can tell by their word choices and simple explanations. I can tell by the way they offer up meaningless options to the idea of suicide, solutions that would be great to choose if someone were well. Solutions they believe they would have chosen, and of course that anyone in their right mind would chose. The problem is when a person is at the point of suicide, there mind isn’t right, they are sick, and suffering.

People want to address the act of suicide but fail to see the victim’s lifetime of struggle, of pain. I can tell by the way they chose to judge the person who took their life, instead of understanding that that person is a victim as well. A victim succumb to their illness.

Some people want to throw out judgements that offer no grace, only damnation for someone who is clearly already suffering beyond what is bearable to them and mostly likely would be to others of us. We would never dream of doing this to someone who lost their life to cancer or an illness of the body.

As a society we fail to accept that mental illness can be a terminal illness for some. There is involvement on the victim’s part to make it terminal, but at the same time it’s important to understand that the body has a breaking point, it will quit after enough pain or illness is inflicted, but the brain is different.

The brain, unless physically injured, will continue on despite any amount of neurotransmitter dysfunction. Having been through hospice with my grandparents, at the end there seems to be a resolution, they are ready to die because of the condition of their body. But with mental this doesn’t happen, it can mean illness with no cure and no end.

I’m in no way condoning suicide, it’s not my judgement to make. I’m just trying to bring some understanding to it, hoping that with understanding will come grace. When someone takes their own life, I deeply grieve, for them, for their families. I’m grieved that the victim wasn’t able to find peace in this life, that they felt there wasn’t enough hope to give themselves more time.

I’m glad the scientific community is finally starting to make huge gains in the area of the human brain.   I’m hoping it will make mental illness more legitimate to society, to people that haven’t had it impact their lives in some way. I’m hoping for improvements in medication, and treatments so that suicide never has to seem like an option. I’m hoping that one day mental illness won’t be terminal.