Id like to start out by saying, I have been saved from the brink of death by the unconditional love of Jesus Christ, close friends and family. Last September I had, on more then one occasion, attempted suicide. The last time I was, literally, minutes away from succeeding. I was battling with severe depression. At that point in my life I felt lost and alone and wanted to die. I had on two occasions admitted myself to the psychiatric ward in champaign after severely cutting my arm and throat several times with a razor. They helped me get my head cleared a little bit and gave me a fresher look on how I could live my life safer, with safety plans in place if I needed extra help and/or support.
My run in with depression started in my teens. I wanted to curl up as small as I could and disappear most of the time to try and avoid situations. For some reason, back then, the thought of dying never occurred to me. However, My depression was never talked about, nor the fact that my stepfather was physically abusive to me and my mother. I was to him considered odd; different because of my disability and for not being his flesh and blood son.
My knowledge of mental illness was very basic, to say the least. In 1990 I was catapulted into a very strange and bizarre world. Suddenly life was different. I was admitted to the psychiatric hospital first voluntarily, then I decided I wasn’t going to stay. I tried to run away. I didn’t know where I was going, but I just had to get away.
They soon caught up with me, kept me under observation. They gave me foul tasting liquid, which I refused to take. They asked me to take it for an elderly patient, the only one who had said a kind word to me.
From this first admission my life spiraled out of control. I lost a job, car and my friends. It seemed all I had was my family and manic depression. My life seemed pointless, lurching from one depression or psychotic episode to the next. Over the last 15 years I have had many hospital admissions - mostly against my will. I didn’t accept I was mentally ill, and I didn’t want to be, no way.
In 2005 I was once more severely depressed. I held a box razor knife in my hand and looked at my right arm. I could see where I had cut myself and all the blood. I looked away in horror and then looked back. I knew I had reached the scary depths in my mind and became afraid of myself. I placed a call to my adopted dad, Pat Stephen. I asked for the church info and if I would be able to come into town and stay so I could attend church that Sunday.
I think I floored him with my asking such a question; cause you see I had, on several occasions, gotten what seemed to him as quite annoyed with him trying to always talk to me about Jesus. However, when I asked him if I could attend church and to pray for me, I could hear the tears of joy in his voice cause he knew then that I was at the point in my life that he had prayed for; for me to be willing to come back to God and make dramatic changes in my life. The love and kindness of the people who went to the church comforted me lke mark jr. & sr. marshall, nancy, william & crystal caylor and kevin and crystal vanhook and everyone else I haven’t named. They were kind and polite. They did not really know me, but wanted me to attend. I started going, seeking solace in my Bible alone. After a while of reading I saw the symptom of my illness. I lacked God in my life.
I went and found out about Jesus and his love for me. I did not believe it, I thought I was so unworthy. I felt like I was a nobody! How could God possibly love me?
Over the following months my thoughts and beliefs about Jesus became so entwined with my heart, that a lot of my old friends didn’t know where the crossover was. I believe many doubted if I had any faith or if it was just part of my supposed illness.
Then, during this time, I met Toni, my now wife, and confidante. She is a very on fire for God person with a beautiful son, Tommy. When I had cut myself the last time, I had been talking to her on the internet and had my web cam running with her, and a few others, viewing me. She had watched me when I did what I did, and called the rescue department for me from her home when she lived in California. Over the next couple of months we got to talking about how we have grown fond of each other and were wondering how compatible we would be together. So, in January of 2006, she flew out, with her son, to visit me for two weeks. We really connected as did Tommy and I. We felt such a strong attraction for each other. We both prayed really hard about it, and I finally asked her to marry me - and she obviously said yes LOL. We were married shortly after that on April 15th 2006. we both attend Christian Faith Center regularly and she is a member of the praise and worship team and loves it.
To me, looking at it all now it was like I would try to make sense of my life and my relationship with God, when mania would rear its head and leave me grasping at thoughts, beliefs and wondering what was real and not.
Following a 2-day detention in a psychiatric ward, I came out feeling as if no one on this planet understood me. I had tried to talk to people around me, but they also raised questions. I knew they were questioning my mental state because they knew I was bad off and had been for quite a while.
One day, as I sat pondering life, the universe etc., I began writing about my thoughts, feelings and emotions. The words just tumbled up from inside me. I realized very quickly that poetry had given me a way to allow the pain within me out, and somehow made the words seem more tangible. This allowed me to express them without saying them over and over to different people. I wrote for a while and then, just as abruptly as I had started, I stopped.
My writing had allowed me to connect with myself and I began to feel easier about my past and my diagnosis of mental illness. I began to feel as a person who was ill. Not as I once believed I was, dominated by mental illness, but that there was more to ME than just that.
I read an article in Pendulum (Manic Depression Fellowship) about a guy who had written a book and had set up a publishing company who publishes books by people with mental health problems. His name was Jason Pegler and the company is Chipmunk publishing.
I emailed Jason and sent him some of my poems. My friends said I was either brave or stupid, but I believed if it was meant to happen it would.
Jason replied and asked me to send some more. Then to send the lot.
During this time my mood was doing the typical roller coaster thing.
I kinda went through a period of disbelief, acknowledging what was occurring but it wasn’t really for me.
A poem site was made and almost 70 people joined. How inspiring was that, I was almost off the planet, I was euphoric, all those people came to see and hear my poems about me.
I asked my friends to write down the names of the other poets, and it was mind blowing to discover I was sharing space with so many people like me.
Without sounding too positive because it isn’t like that I know only last week I was struggling to get out of bed, didn’t want to speak to anyone and only wanted to go back to my old habits again. I did lose a great deal to manic depression, my way of life has changed, sometimes I think for the better, others I mourn.
I know I have changed, and I am no longer afraid to express an opinion. I know now that I can express myself through words and it does take away my pain and hurt and I also know that it connects with others too.
I now know what others knew so long ago, that I am different. Yes, I agree, it has taken me a long time to realize it but it is not a shame to be different. I am unique, and that needs to be celebrated. Just as the fact that we all are unique with our own thoughts, ideas and dreams. I say dare to be different.
A friend of mine, in the therapy sessions I was going to, told me ”It is one of life’s laws that as soon as one door closes, another one opens. But the REAL tragedy is that we disregard the open one.”
Regardless of how well prepared a person is for misfortune, counseling is a vital process which must be experienced to heal the wound. From my talks with a chaplain, doctors and others who have experienced depression like myself, I have learned there is a way to help provide strong support to people who are depressed and that feel sad or alone. It’s exemplified in the following poem
‘Grief, being private, must be borne alone.
And though I cannot share your sorrow,
Still, your anguished tears are mingled with my own.
I walk unseen beside you up the hill,
I can but hope that the pain with in your chest will loose its sting,
and soon your loneliness will melt,
when spring returns to meet the yearly test.
When on the pear the first white blow is dealt.
I shall not hurt you with empty words,
claiming to know the answers to it all
I Only ask, so long as darkness grids your world,
To let these shoulders ease the fall.”
This poem alludes to a special kind of relationship in which a true friend reaches out to a grieving companion. They offer to be there along side them in their pain and misery. There really is little more that one could give to a person in these times, but it is a great deal to that person.
Not allowing a person to walk alone is the greatest act of love that heals just as Jesus has shown us.
He says time and time again “I will not leave you in your times of need” and “I always hear you when you speak to me“
I have truly turned my life, and most of my troubles, over to God and put it in his hands. I admit it’s not easy, for I am still finding it hard to just say “Ok God, I trust you with this situation or problem.” Yet, every day that I get to help someone in need or even get to just talk about how wonderful God is and what all he has done in my life, it helps build my faith even higher and makes it easier to do so.
a good scripture I have found to read is,
Psalm 25:4-6
4. Lord, show me your ways. Teach me how to follow you.
5 . Guide me in your truth. Teach me.
You are God my Savior.
I put my hope in you all day long.
6. Lord, remember your great mercy and love.
You have shown them to your people for a long time.
Whenever I feel like I need a little comfort, I remember that God is always there when I need him.
Another verse is,
Psalms 33:20-21,
20. We wait in hope for the LORD;
He is our help and our shield.
21. In him our hearts rejoice,
For we trust in his holy name.
We can rejoice in him. Cause he is the life, truth and the way to true happiness, peace and comfort.
And another comforting thought is that God will never give us more then we can handle, even though at times it might seem that it is.
In closing, A really well known poem is “FOOTPRINTS” and if you sit down and really read into it and think about your relationship with God
"Footprints in the Sand"
One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many Scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints. Other times there was one only.
This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,
"You promised me Lord that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life, there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?"
The Lord Replied, "The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you."
