Letting Go

Life is full of similar ironies.  I recall crying about my loss as I wondered where my old self had disappeared to.  Will I find myself hiding somewhere out there, waiting to be found?  When done with grieving, I realize that the new me is someone worth getting to know.

So, I begin to learn about myself.  What can I invest in so I can be a better, newer, stronger, more versatile me?  There's something to be said about self-love.  Taking care of oneself is a discipline.  Being good to self involves liking one self. 


That is easier said than done.  For an individual suffering from depression, or as my doctor clinically diagnosed my condition as "Major Depressive Disorder" ... "with psychotic episodes", is it even possible to be aware of who I am and what I wish to accomplish?

Let yours truly say resoundingly: Yes.  For, I have witnessed repeatedly that no one knows him or herself full.  I believe that if we do, we cannot, should not, and would not like ourselves.  We are depraved creatures.  It is not usually possible for us to be truly altruistic or other centered.  We seek out that which benefits us first.  We expend in order to receive.  We share so we can have more.  We help because we seek credit.

We are only capable of knowing part of ourselves at a given time.  Our largest, most encompassing focus is only a minute portion.  The healthiest one among us is only truly aware of a small part.  To say we are the sum of all our parts is both right and wrong, true and false.

Today, I am aware of what I wish to accomplish.  And, while I will rejoice when I am accomplishing those things, I am also aware that there's more of myself that I do not know.  And, I am okay with that.

How about you?

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By Edgar Albert Guest

Myself

I have to live with myself and so
I want to be fit for myself to know.
I want to be able as days go by,
always to look myself straight in the eye;
I don't want to stand with the setting sun
and hate myself for the things I have done.
I don't want to keep on a closet shelf
a lot of secrets about myself
and fool myself as I come and go
into thinking no one else will ever know
the kind of person I really am,
I don't want to dress up myself in sham.
I want to go out with my head erect
I want to deserve all men's respect;
but here in the struggle for fame and wealth
I want to be able to like myself.
I don't want to look at myself and know that
I am bluster and bluff and empty show.
I never can hide myself from me;
I see what others may never see;
I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself and so,
whatever happens I want to be
self respecting and conscience free.

Mommy Woes Be Gone!

Dear Reader,

In recent news, a woman's body was found in a river.  Mere hours before, the corpses of her baby son and toddler daughter were discovered in their family bath tub.  The media zoned in on the grisly developments and provided information on the woman's mental health.

She had been diagnosed with post-partum depression despite Facebook photo entries that showed otherwise.  She seemed far removed from any lows or struggles with mental health.

At the risk of suggesting blame, many have yet to stop and take time to consider our attitudes on such difficult issues.  When we hear of children being harmed by their own parents and guardians, do we stop first to ponder if there may be victims on both ends?

In other words, do we allow our quick reactions to take the side of the harmed children and lay blame on the adults in the situation?  Or, do we allow for the possibility of the adults also as victims?  Devastating as it may be, the adults who bring harm to their own children may be very ill.

I have been suffering from mental illness for almost six years.  I am still haunted by feelings of deep regret, debilitating shame and enormous disbelief that there were moments when I thought about harming my own flesh and blood.  There were times when I've looked down at my darling child and felt both intense love and fear for/at him.  I heard my own voice warn me to run and seek help for my baby's sake.  AND I also heard another one of my own voice tell me to "save" him from this wicked, cruel, hard hearted world.

During those moments, I wanted to save us from this world.  There is another utopia where we can exist in complete happiness and love.

Would you take the time to slow your first assumptions?  Would you care less about placing blame and more about removing the taboo of mental illness?  Mental sufferers will thank you.  I thank you.

Return of the Jedi?

I'm back.

We are nearing the end of July 2013. This is my first blog Of the year. What has brought me back?

The Winter was slow moving. The Holiday Season had me in relaxation mode. Too much relaxation turned into apathy.  So I hid from the world.

When Spring came and went, and I still was without energy, it was time to sound the alarm. I had not kept in touch with my circle of friends. I stopped making cards and jewelry. I didn't want to move beyond the comforts of home.

I was in trouble. I started to buy things I didn't need to keep happy.  I surrounded myself with vourful markers, pens and paper to feel better. I looked for holes in my marriage. I started to tell myself I was a horrible wife and mother. I felt guilty for taking up space and taking in oxygen. Yuck!

I had slipped back into the throes of depression and I knew it. This time I was determined to take the electric toaster into the bath with me. I was going to buy rat poison from Walmart and eat it for breakfast. I decided there was no point to leave a note. So long as I made sure they knew how much I loved them. Each one.

I texted my sisters. "I love you very much."  My parents, my brother got their texts too. There!  All done. Except my timing was off and they caught on. Next time, draw the bath and have the toaster ready. Or have the rat poison next to a glass of water with me in bed. Or, send emails with future dates for auto delivery.

Now, I have to see the doctor as my husband marches me in. A family member will be supervising me at all hours of the day and night. And my son would not be with me unsupervised.

Weeks later, with new doses of medication, I'm back. Thanks to those who acted on their instincts. Thanks to my tireless, loving and committed husband. Thanks to my most wonderful mother in law. Thanks to my little boy who tells me every day that he loves me and means it so absolutely.

Call me Jedi. I am one with the force.