Click here to Introduction
Psychological Solutions
I don’t think most people in my life are aware that I am bi-polar. In fact, I was diagnosed bi-polar and manic-depressive back when they still had separate definitions for those diagnoses. I guess that means I’m twice as crazy as you think I am. Unfortunately that doesn’t make it any easier to understand me. Nor does this purging I call writing.
My main goal is to help others understand. I love other people who are “crazy” too. I think most of these folks are actually better off than I am, but I also know they are not as open about their emotions and the problems that go along with them as I am. Some of them are young people just coming into the depth of emotions, and for those who are really just learning about themselves, it is important to know they are not alone in their upside down, spiraling out of control world.
Then there are the people who have to deal with us. As difficult as it is to try to understand one’s own emotions, it can be more difficult to stand on the outside and watch a loved one fight themselves. I think it is even more difficult for those individuals who don’t have emotional problems. I had a conversation once with one of my nephews who could not understand the depth of emotion that would make someone suicidal. As happy as I am for him that he has never experienced such despair, I also ache that he cannot experience the depth of emotion that can also bring great joy and understanding to one’s soul. Fortunately for him, I don’t think he has to deal with people like me often, but I do have a dear friend who is of the same stock as my nephew, but married to a beloved loon like me.
I think the first biggest problem for those who love us, even beyond understanding or knowing the signs of an on coming episode, is the need to try to “fix” us. You cannot do that. We cannot do that. For some of us, it’s a matter of finding the right medicine, or combination or medicines. Our bodies are amazing chemically engineered machines that are far from perfect. Like fluids in your car, our levels need to be checked and maintained so that we can run properly. Sometimes these chemical levels are not where they need to be, and at that point we need a “safe place” where they can be monitored carefully so that our “engine” runs smoothly again. Forgive me if I seem flippant, but this is the “easy way out.”
The key to this solution is affordability. It is expensive not only to afford the necessary medications, but to even find a “safe place” to stay where we can find and learn to maintain our balance. I do not have this option. We cannot afford insurance which means every time I need medicine, or, Gods forbid, a “safe place”, my episode gets worse.
Wait a minute; I’m starting at the end.
Hi, my name is Beanie and I am bi-polar. I usually do a fair job controlling my depressive episodes without the aid of medications because I am a smoker. If you know me at all, you know exactly what I mean. In high school I developed migraines which became very manageable when I became a regular smoker, which is why I really don’t hide it from my friends and family, even though I know they would prefer that I not smoke. It has mainly been periods where I cannot afford to smoke on a regular basis that my depressive episodes get out of control. I don’t believe that smoking is the only thing that kept my balance, but I have to say it has been significant.
Recently I have also been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. Don’t try to understand what it is, even the doctors can’t agree. Is it chemical or is it, as my husband says, “all in your head”. (By this he means psychological not psychosomatic.) One doctor I spoke to says he read a study that proves the brain of patients with Fibromyalgia processes pain differently. Another doctor says he has always found an underlying chemical reason (like a thyroid problem) for the Fibromyalgia. Of course this requires a battery of tests I cannot afford, especially on top of the ones I already have had. Other theories (and the one that seems to make the most sense to me, even if the other theories may also be correct) include the idea that the way the body reacts to stress, (the fight-or-flight response) causes chemicals to be produced, but not used in the way they are intended, which causes them to expend themselves in improper ways.
Since I have been diagnosed, I have discovered a lot of people I know who also have Fibromyalgia. Some deal with it through exercise, some by keeping strict sleep patterns, some by giving in to the pain. Every one of them use some kind of chemical aid such as vitamins, anti-depressants, pain pills and all kinds of things.
This is when you should feel more sympathy for those around me (my husband) than for me. I not only have the benefit of a diagnosis that finally gives me permission to show weakness, but, usually, the drugs to get through it.
Yes, I did say I needed permission to be weak. On occasion I sit in on a family therapy session with my friend, and the most recent one was about clinical depression. I don’t know why I am surprised that people are afraid to say they have an emotional illness. (Because it’s not really a ‘mental’ illness.) Any kind of weakness is difficult to admit, but when it is something that is out of your control, not to mention something that will affect others, it is better to be open about it, so that it can be appropriately dealt with. How do people know you are having a fragile moment and cannot deal with one more thing, if you don’t tell them? How is my husband to know that I am sleeping on the couch because I know it’s better to isolate myself than to expose my fragile psyche to an accidental injury, unless I tell him? I did not marry a mind reader.
Maybe it’s because there is a stigma attached to “mental illnesses”. A friend’s mother-in-law asked me a lot of questions about that friend’s ability to be safe with her child after my friend was hospitalized because of her bi-polar disorder. The questioning came from a grandmother’s natural inclination to be concerned for the safety of her grandchild because she didn’t understand the illness AT ALL. Mostly she did not understand that my friend had been dealing with her illness for years, and was hospitalized, and indeed released, because of her understanding of her illness. Perhaps when we were in our teens and early 20’s we might not have been able to recognize the signs of our emotional deterioration, much less know how to handle them, but by our mid 30’s, (and of course nearly a decade of diagnosis,) we have learned to be introspective. If we are paying attention to ourselves at all, we can tell when we are beginning to lose our balance.
The trouble comes, not so much in losing our personal stability, but in not allowing others to participate in the process. Someone who is not bi-polar, is not likely to recognize a manic episode for what it is. The agitation that we try to ignore will usually be noticed by someone who knows to be wary of those factors. Even if we sink to our depths, it is not because we want to be in physical pain, or because we want to die, but because we want the emotional pain to end. “Cutting” releases natural endorphins that will make the person feel better for a while. I understand this is what some people are considering a “new phenomenon amongst teenagers today”. Excuse me, but bullshit. This has been going on since I was a teenager and it didn’t help those people then, it certainly won’t help these people now. If you are reading this and you have EVER been inclined to cut, understand that this is a temporary fix that will have people thinking you are worse off than you really are. The mental scars your life is engraving on you will be nothing compared to the stigma attached to the physical scars you may leave. If you want people to be afraid of you, go ahead and cut. If you want today’s pain to truly be resolved, talk to someone. I am crazy, but I am living proof that you can have a productive life and still be truly, deeply crazy.
Obviously that does not mean that I have it together on a daily basis. This weekend I faced one of my worst depressive episodes since I lost Grandpa. Let me help you define a “depressive episode”: I had the desire not to hurt myself, but to end my life. You have no idea how difficult that is for me to say. You may have felt that way before, or you may feel that way at some point in the future, but you will still not know the depth of pain it takes me to admit that. I am only doing it here because I hope and pray that it will help someone else.
It is so difficult for me because I really do try to live my life not necessarily in a way that is “pleasing to God”, but as a good example of the way people should be. I feel personally responsible for the state of the world, one person at a time. I am not perfect, but I think I understand how Jesus must have felt that night in Gethsemane. Maybe my destiny is to help this small group of people understand how to deal with emotions, but if that is the case, I am surely being crucified. One of my pain centers lies across my shoulders and up my neck, as though something sharp and heavy resides there. Whatever those with medical degrees might say, I KNOW my pain is a physical manifestation of my emotional state.
The spiral begins when I try to take care of myself. Without insurance, or the better paying jobs that go along with it, every time I am in need, I am also reminded of my greatest deficiency. Whose fault is it that we don’t have the money we need to take care of ourselves? I can answer that a million different ways, but it comes down to one thing and one thing only: I made bad choices.
Does it matter what those choices were? Not really, but for the sake of the young people who might be reading this, you need to know that I didn’t take life seriously enough soon enough. I thought I was special, and didn’t have to conform to societies rules. This time and place requires a college degree. I do not know what your future requires, but it is likely to be technical in nature. For everyone it will be the ability to take care of yourself and all that that entails, but that is a story for another time.
The bottom line is, I have had to take responsibility for the consequences of my choices, and that has been more than I can bear at times. Some bad choices I made involved allowing others to do things I knew was not right. Are those consequences theirs to bear? Certainly, and they are every time I hit the skids because we cannot afford what I require to maintain my balance.
Don’t think I’m just referring to my husband. My dad will tell you himself that he is still paying for the choices he has made through the pain I experience. If Grandpa were alive, he’d say the same thing.
In fact, I have to say the worst thing that ever happened to me was growing up in the rose colored bubble that was life in my Grandparents’ home. It was also unquestionably the best thing that ever happened to me. I have learned through the experience that I call my life, that most people do not ever experience the kind of love and security I knew in my early childhood. Whereas that created a web of serenity I could cloth myself with, it did worse than nothing to prepare me for what the world is really like.
I have spent my life trying to weave that kind of environment again. I used to say my main goal in life has been to be the perfect wife and mother. I have totally blown the first part, and, after nearly 20 years of wishing, I no longer expect the second, but I have also come to realize it just isn’t as important as I thought it was. As I have spread my wings to encompass not just my in-laws and god-kids, but my Grandma as well, I have learned that it is more important to create for others the kind of environment I had as a child, not necessarily for my child.
The difficulty in this lies in the necessity that I learn how to be a partner with someone who has no previous experience upon which to draw. I grew up being the Princess that the current culture is trying so hard to sell. I was led to believe that I would always have someone stronger to draw my own strength from; that I would always have the security of someone else to protect me from the outside world. If you are teaching your daughter to be a Princess, stop before you hurt her any further.
There is not always someone else from whom you can draw strength. Sometimes, when we most need it, our friends and family are hurting as well. Sometimes, when we most need someone to hold us while we cry, it is us who do the holding. Life is not easy, it is not put before us for us to enjoy.
This does not mean that life is not good.
If you can’t tell, I went from being taken care of to doing the taking care of. Life is a journey we take. It is put before us with specific challenges to face, obstacles to overcome, and lessons to learn. If we are lucky we have a partner with whom to travel. For me, learning to balance in a partnership seems to be one of my great challenges. The Great Irony is, I have had to go straight from counting on myself; learning how to depend on myself, especially in dealing with a depressive episode, to learning to allow another to aid me.
When one of our nephews got married, they asked us to be Sponsors at their wedding. I honestly can’t say what they expected from us beyond the specific part we played in their wedding, but to me it is like the part I play in the lives of my God-kids: with them I believe I am to be there when they need me for whatever specific reasons, and to live the example that I would like them to become. For my nephew and niece, I believe I should conduct my marriage in a way that sets a good example for them. I really thought we were doing exactly that until this weekend.
Communicating with my husband I never really thought to be a problem until I realized I was trying, unsuccessfully, to deal with this episode on my own. I was pushing myself to participate in life when he made a comment that, like a light bulb, made me realize he completely did not understand my illness. Here I was trying to help enlighten another husband, and at the same time, allowing my own husband to walk in darkness. Revelations are rarely pleasant. It is a part of human nature to need to know what specifics cause our unhappiness, as if knowing makes any difference. Does knowing your loved one is in safe hands, make you any less worried when they have surgery? I think not.
So does knowing make little difference when dealing with depression. Having closely observed the success of Alcoholics Anonymous, I have done my very best to apply the Serenity Prayer to my life. Does that mean it has solved all my worldly woes? Not hardly. Admittedly there are more things I can change, mostly with a little more motivation and a lot less fear of rejection. I know most of you think that I should let go of my “changing the world” mantra as something “I cannot change”, thinking that I lack “the wisdom to know the difference.” What you are missing is the ability to let go of “things that I cannot change”.
I cannot change the fact that Grandpa is gone and no one will ever love me that purely again. I will never again have the safety and security he gave me, and there are many folks who lean on me as heavily as I leaned on him. Most of the time it is something that gives me value when I hit rock bottom, so please! Do not stop leaning on me!
I cannot change the fact that Grandma’s health is failing and she would probably be better cared for physically in some kind of nursing facility, even though we were raised that such a situation in unacceptable. Just because I can make that logical decision, does not mean I am emotionally ok with it. Don’t ask me to just accept it, knowing it is “the best decision for everyone”. This is a matter that tears several of us up. It is a continuous issue, and just because it is something you have faced before, don’t try to project your acceptance of what you dealt with on us. We were raised very differently than most people, ESPECIALLY when it comes to family. We do not judge how you dealt with your elderly, do not judge us for the way we deal with ours. It makes it more difficult to accept when you think we should do things in a different way and, because we don’t, you also have to deal with the issues you avoided. We are working through this the best we can, together, as a group of people who were raised illogically to deal with an emotional decision in a realistic way.
I cannot change my past, including the fact that I pissed away my college career and can no longer afford the time or money required to amend that. I also refuse to regret doing so because, not only can I not change the past, I experienced a myriad of things I would not have otherwise experienced. The past that I have lived makes me who and what I am today and, even if I am not always the best I can be, I am still one of the most incredible people you will ever know.
I cannot change that, although I know I am incredible, I don’t always feel incredible and sometimes, even question my value. Nor am I at all surprised that many of the things that cause my heart sores, also causes my heart to soar. When a friend leans on me for support, I often find that I am supporting myself.
If you are reading this, it is with purpose. The purpose could be mine; to apologize because I spoke to you in a depressive moment and you probably got an ear full when you least wanted it, much less expected it, and I’m sorry I unloaded on you like that. Maybe I think these revelations can help you in some way; either you are dealing with someone like me and reading this can aid you in understanding, or maybe you are in some way like me and in need of encouragement: this too shall pass if you let it! Maybe you are a stranger to me, but someone else sent you this because they thought you needed to hear something I said. Either way, I hope as you read, you KNOW the love that comes with it. We are all strangers on a strange journey and without the bonds of sharing, we are truly alone. Now, you KNOW you will NEVER be alone with your troubles.
I have to add one last thing: I really didn’t talk about God and the impact faith has on mental health. There are times when God has to be felt, not talked about. This is one of those times. Better yet, that is a tale for another day…
My main goal is to help others understand. I love other people who are “crazy” too. I think most of these folks are actually better off than I am, but I also know they are not as open about their emotions and the problems that go along with them as I am. Some of them are young people just coming into the depth of emotions, and for those who are really just learning about themselves, it is important to know they are not alone in their upside down, spiraling out of control world.
Then there are the people who have to deal with us. As difficult as it is to try to understand one’s own emotions, it can be more difficult to stand on the outside and watch a loved one fight themselves. I think it is even more difficult for those individuals who don’t have emotional problems. I had a conversation once with one of my nephews who could not understand the depth of emotion that would make someone suicidal. As happy as I am for him that he has never experienced such despair, I also ache that he cannot experience the depth of emotion that can also bring great joy and understanding to one’s soul. Fortunately for him, I don’t think he has to deal with people like me often, but I do have a dear friend who is of the same stock as my nephew, but married to a beloved loon like me.
I think the first biggest problem for those who love us, even beyond understanding or knowing the signs of an on coming episode, is the need to try to “fix” us. You cannot do that. We cannot do that. For some of us, it’s a matter of finding the right medicine, or combination or medicines. Our bodies are amazing chemically engineered machines that are far from perfect. Like fluids in your car, our levels need to be checked and maintained so that we can run properly. Sometimes these chemical levels are not where they need to be, and at that point we need a “safe place” where they can be monitored carefully so that our “engine” runs smoothly again. Forgive me if I seem flippant, but this is the “easy way out.”
The key to this solution is affordability. It is expensive not only to afford the necessary medications, but to even find a “safe place” to stay where we can find and learn to maintain our balance. I do not have this option. We cannot afford insurance which means every time I need medicine, or, Gods forbid, a “safe place”, my episode gets worse.
Wait a minute; I’m starting at the end.
Hi, my name is Beanie and I am bi-polar. I usually do a fair job controlling my depressive episodes without the aid of medications because I am a smoker. If you know me at all, you know exactly what I mean. In high school I developed migraines which became very manageable when I became a regular smoker, which is why I really don’t hide it from my friends and family, even though I know they would prefer that I not smoke. It has mainly been periods where I cannot afford to smoke on a regular basis that my depressive episodes get out of control. I don’t believe that smoking is the only thing that kept my balance, but I have to say it has been significant.
Recently I have also been diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. Don’t try to understand what it is, even the doctors can’t agree. Is it chemical or is it, as my husband says, “all in your head”. (By this he means psychological not psychosomatic.) One doctor I spoke to says he read a study that proves the brain of patients with Fibromyalgia processes pain differently. Another doctor says he has always found an underlying chemical reason (like a thyroid problem) for the Fibromyalgia. Of course this requires a battery of tests I cannot afford, especially on top of the ones I already have had. Other theories (and the one that seems to make the most sense to me, even if the other theories may also be correct) include the idea that the way the body reacts to stress, (the fight-or-flight response) causes chemicals to be produced, but not used in the way they are intended, which causes them to expend themselves in improper ways.
Since I have been diagnosed, I have discovered a lot of people I know who also have Fibromyalgia. Some deal with it through exercise, some by keeping strict sleep patterns, some by giving in to the pain. Every one of them use some kind of chemical aid such as vitamins, anti-depressants, pain pills and all kinds of things.
This is when you should feel more sympathy for those around me (my husband) than for me. I not only have the benefit of a diagnosis that finally gives me permission to show weakness, but, usually, the drugs to get through it.
Yes, I did say I needed permission to be weak. On occasion I sit in on a family therapy session with my friend, and the most recent one was about clinical depression. I don’t know why I am surprised that people are afraid to say they have an emotional illness. (Because it’s not really a ‘mental’ illness.) Any kind of weakness is difficult to admit, but when it is something that is out of your control, not to mention something that will affect others, it is better to be open about it, so that it can be appropriately dealt with. How do people know you are having a fragile moment and cannot deal with one more thing, if you don’t tell them? How is my husband to know that I am sleeping on the couch because I know it’s better to isolate myself than to expose my fragile psyche to an accidental injury, unless I tell him? I did not marry a mind reader.
Maybe it’s because there is a stigma attached to “mental illnesses”. A friend’s mother-in-law asked me a lot of questions about that friend’s ability to be safe with her child after my friend was hospitalized because of her bi-polar disorder. The questioning came from a grandmother’s natural inclination to be concerned for the safety of her grandchild because she didn’t understand the illness AT ALL. Mostly she did not understand that my friend had been dealing with her illness for years, and was hospitalized, and indeed released, because of her understanding of her illness. Perhaps when we were in our teens and early 20’s we might not have been able to recognize the signs of our emotional deterioration, much less know how to handle them, but by our mid 30’s, (and of course nearly a decade of diagnosis,) we have learned to be introspective. If we are paying attention to ourselves at all, we can tell when we are beginning to lose our balance.
The trouble comes, not so much in losing our personal stability, but in not allowing others to participate in the process. Someone who is not bi-polar, is not likely to recognize a manic episode for what it is. The agitation that we try to ignore will usually be noticed by someone who knows to be wary of those factors. Even if we sink to our depths, it is not because we want to be in physical pain, or because we want to die, but because we want the emotional pain to end. “Cutting” releases natural endorphins that will make the person feel better for a while. I understand this is what some people are considering a “new phenomenon amongst teenagers today”. Excuse me, but bullshit. This has been going on since I was a teenager and it didn’t help those people then, it certainly won’t help these people now. If you are reading this and you have EVER been inclined to cut, understand that this is a temporary fix that will have people thinking you are worse off than you really are. The mental scars your life is engraving on you will be nothing compared to the stigma attached to the physical scars you may leave. If you want people to be afraid of you, go ahead and cut. If you want today’s pain to truly be resolved, talk to someone. I am crazy, but I am living proof that you can have a productive life and still be truly, deeply crazy.
Obviously that does not mean that I have it together on a daily basis. This weekend I faced one of my worst depressive episodes since I lost Grandpa. Let me help you define a “depressive episode”: I had the desire not to hurt myself, but to end my life. You have no idea how difficult that is for me to say. You may have felt that way before, or you may feel that way at some point in the future, but you will still not know the depth of pain it takes me to admit that. I am only doing it here because I hope and pray that it will help someone else.
It is so difficult for me because I really do try to live my life not necessarily in a way that is “pleasing to God”, but as a good example of the way people should be. I feel personally responsible for the state of the world, one person at a time. I am not perfect, but I think I understand how Jesus must have felt that night in Gethsemane. Maybe my destiny is to help this small group of people understand how to deal with emotions, but if that is the case, I am surely being crucified. One of my pain centers lies across my shoulders and up my neck, as though something sharp and heavy resides there. Whatever those with medical degrees might say, I KNOW my pain is a physical manifestation of my emotional state.
The spiral begins when I try to take care of myself. Without insurance, or the better paying jobs that go along with it, every time I am in need, I am also reminded of my greatest deficiency. Whose fault is it that we don’t have the money we need to take care of ourselves? I can answer that a million different ways, but it comes down to one thing and one thing only: I made bad choices.
Does it matter what those choices were? Not really, but for the sake of the young people who might be reading this, you need to know that I didn’t take life seriously enough soon enough. I thought I was special, and didn’t have to conform to societies rules. This time and place requires a college degree. I do not know what your future requires, but it is likely to be technical in nature. For everyone it will be the ability to take care of yourself and all that that entails, but that is a story for another time.
The bottom line is, I have had to take responsibility for the consequences of my choices, and that has been more than I can bear at times. Some bad choices I made involved allowing others to do things I knew was not right. Are those consequences theirs to bear? Certainly, and they are every time I hit the skids because we cannot afford what I require to maintain my balance.
Don’t think I’m just referring to my husband. My dad will tell you himself that he is still paying for the choices he has made through the pain I experience. If Grandpa were alive, he’d say the same thing.
In fact, I have to say the worst thing that ever happened to me was growing up in the rose colored bubble that was life in my Grandparents’ home. It was also unquestionably the best thing that ever happened to me. I have learned through the experience that I call my life, that most people do not ever experience the kind of love and security I knew in my early childhood. Whereas that created a web of serenity I could cloth myself with, it did worse than nothing to prepare me for what the world is really like.
I have spent my life trying to weave that kind of environment again. I used to say my main goal in life has been to be the perfect wife and mother. I have totally blown the first part, and, after nearly 20 years of wishing, I no longer expect the second, but I have also come to realize it just isn’t as important as I thought it was. As I have spread my wings to encompass not just my in-laws and god-kids, but my Grandma as well, I have learned that it is more important to create for others the kind of environment I had as a child, not necessarily for my child.
The difficulty in this lies in the necessity that I learn how to be a partner with someone who has no previous experience upon which to draw. I grew up being the Princess that the current culture is trying so hard to sell. I was led to believe that I would always have someone stronger to draw my own strength from; that I would always have the security of someone else to protect me from the outside world. If you are teaching your daughter to be a Princess, stop before you hurt her any further.
There is not always someone else from whom you can draw strength. Sometimes, when we most need it, our friends and family are hurting as well. Sometimes, when we most need someone to hold us while we cry, it is us who do the holding. Life is not easy, it is not put before us for us to enjoy.
This does not mean that life is not good.
If you can’t tell, I went from being taken care of to doing the taking care of. Life is a journey we take. It is put before us with specific challenges to face, obstacles to overcome, and lessons to learn. If we are lucky we have a partner with whom to travel. For me, learning to balance in a partnership seems to be one of my great challenges. The Great Irony is, I have had to go straight from counting on myself; learning how to depend on myself, especially in dealing with a depressive episode, to learning to allow another to aid me.
When one of our nephews got married, they asked us to be Sponsors at their wedding. I honestly can’t say what they expected from us beyond the specific part we played in their wedding, but to me it is like the part I play in the lives of my God-kids: with them I believe I am to be there when they need me for whatever specific reasons, and to live the example that I would like them to become. For my nephew and niece, I believe I should conduct my marriage in a way that sets a good example for them. I really thought we were doing exactly that until this weekend.
Communicating with my husband I never really thought to be a problem until I realized I was trying, unsuccessfully, to deal with this episode on my own. I was pushing myself to participate in life when he made a comment that, like a light bulb, made me realize he completely did not understand my illness. Here I was trying to help enlighten another husband, and at the same time, allowing my own husband to walk in darkness. Revelations are rarely pleasant. It is a part of human nature to need to know what specifics cause our unhappiness, as if knowing makes any difference. Does knowing your loved one is in safe hands, make you any less worried when they have surgery? I think not.
So does knowing make little difference when dealing with depression. Having closely observed the success of Alcoholics Anonymous, I have done my very best to apply the Serenity Prayer to my life. Does that mean it has solved all my worldly woes? Not hardly. Admittedly there are more things I can change, mostly with a little more motivation and a lot less fear of rejection. I know most of you think that I should let go of my “changing the world” mantra as something “I cannot change”, thinking that I lack “the wisdom to know the difference.” What you are missing is the ability to let go of “things that I cannot change”.
I cannot change the fact that Grandpa is gone and no one will ever love me that purely again. I will never again have the safety and security he gave me, and there are many folks who lean on me as heavily as I leaned on him. Most of the time it is something that gives me value when I hit rock bottom, so please! Do not stop leaning on me!
I cannot change the fact that Grandma’s health is failing and she would probably be better cared for physically in some kind of nursing facility, even though we were raised that such a situation in unacceptable. Just because I can make that logical decision, does not mean I am emotionally ok with it. Don’t ask me to just accept it, knowing it is “the best decision for everyone”. This is a matter that tears several of us up. It is a continuous issue, and just because it is something you have faced before, don’t try to project your acceptance of what you dealt with on us. We were raised very differently than most people, ESPECIALLY when it comes to family. We do not judge how you dealt with your elderly, do not judge us for the way we deal with ours. It makes it more difficult to accept when you think we should do things in a different way and, because we don’t, you also have to deal with the issues you avoided. We are working through this the best we can, together, as a group of people who were raised illogically to deal with an emotional decision in a realistic way.
I cannot change my past, including the fact that I pissed away my college career and can no longer afford the time or money required to amend that. I also refuse to regret doing so because, not only can I not change the past, I experienced a myriad of things I would not have otherwise experienced. The past that I have lived makes me who and what I am today and, even if I am not always the best I can be, I am still one of the most incredible people you will ever know.
I cannot change that, although I know I am incredible, I don’t always feel incredible and sometimes, even question my value. Nor am I at all surprised that many of the things that cause my heart sores, also causes my heart to soar. When a friend leans on me for support, I often find that I am supporting myself.
If you are reading this, it is with purpose. The purpose could be mine; to apologize because I spoke to you in a depressive moment and you probably got an ear full when you least wanted it, much less expected it, and I’m sorry I unloaded on you like that. Maybe I think these revelations can help you in some way; either you are dealing with someone like me and reading this can aid you in understanding, or maybe you are in some way like me and in need of encouragement: this too shall pass if you let it! Maybe you are a stranger to me, but someone else sent you this because they thought you needed to hear something I said. Either way, I hope as you read, you KNOW the love that comes with it. We are all strangers on a strange journey and without the bonds of sharing, we are truly alone. Now, you KNOW you will NEVER be alone with your troubles.
I have to add one last thing: I really didn’t talk about God and the impact faith has on mental health. There are times when God has to be felt, not talked about. This is one of those times. Better yet, that is a tale for another day…
You can follow Taunta Beanie on FaceBook at https://www.facebook.com/TauntaTBTaylor or e-mail her at [email protected] For more about her or to read her other work go to www.TauntaBeanie.com