Where is Happiness?

It seems I have lost it again

I’ve lost it so many times before

Maybe I’m just not meant to have it

It is easily given but easily forgotten

I found it as an Easter egg hidden under a bush

I saw it light up the sky after a ball game

It has licked my face and wagged its tail

I have felt it’s soft kiss and warm embrace

How could I lose it?

Where can I find it?

Instead, I always know where to find pain

It’s hidden in corners, cupboards, and boxes.

It puts on a mask and pretends to be your friend

I’ve heard it yell insults and threats and curses

I’ve held it’s hand on a date to the movies

I was raped by it in a cheap motel room

I drank it down to forget

Oh I know where to find darkness

Darkness is easy to find.

It sits in my brain waiting for its day

It makes my heart bleed out on to my arms

It speaks to me telling me I shouldn’t be

I have found darkness.

But, where is happiness?

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I Know I’m Not Crazy

So I am really into shows and movies about doctors, hospitals, and the like. In such shows, there is sometimes a patient that comes in with all these symptoms and the doctors will then try to say “Oh, those are the classic symptoms of insert mental illness here. Let me call in a psychiatrist.” The patient will panic and say the famous words, “No, please! I know I’m not crazy.” The doctor will then perform numerous tests and find some tumor or lesion and it will be removed and the patient will go on their merry way. When the doctors give the patient the news that it’s a tumor or some other tangible ailment, the patient is relieved because it is much easier to accept a tumor than it is to accept a mental illness.

I know I’m not crazy. I’m not. I have a condition in which my brain produces too much or too little of certain chemicals which cause my mind to not function as well as it should. Just like a tumor I have no control over this chemical reaction. I’m not crazy. Why does society treat those of us that suffer as such?

I understand why people would be upset when they hear that they might have a mental illness. I get it. It totally sucks. It sucks because mental illness is hard to diagnose and even harder to treat. It sucks because it takes a lot of hard work and patience to treat an illness. It sucks because you know you’ll be treated differently because of a chemical imbalance in your body. I get it. It sucks. Let me be perfectly clear, however, it does not suck because we are crazy! It doesn’t. We aren’t crazy.

We may feel crazy at times because our brain is trying kill our body. We may feel crazy when the world around us functions with such ease and our world fails to function at all. We may feel crazy when people treat mental illness like a mythical creature. We may feel crazy, but we aren’t.

Do you know how hard it is to get through life knowing you have nothing to live for? No? Well I do. I have gotten through and created a life worth living. My brain constantly try’s to take that away from me and my fist full of pills remind me I am one slip away from losing all hope. However, these things don’t make me crazy. They make me a fighter. I realize that I will be fighting the rest of my life and that is exhausting. I will not, however, let the world tell me my fight isn’t legitimate. It’s the hardest thing I have ever had to do.

I hope one day there will be a Doctor show where the doctors suggest a mental illness and the patient is able to say, “That really sucks, but I’m happy there is treatment. Walk with me while I fight it.”

Suck it Up, Buttercup.

It’s not there, if you can’t see it.

It’s not real, if not everyone can feel it.

You’re making excuses.

No one is going to believe it.

You really should grow up.

Why don’t you just give up.

Stop being so damn lazy.

We are going to have to write you up.

Maybe you should try praying more.

You shouldn’t take all those pills anymore.

You scared your peers with your outburst.

You should just try to be happy more.

You seem fine to me.

You look fine to me.

Suck it up, buttercup.

Your life doesn’t look hard to me.

You’re milking this for all it’s worth.

Maybe if you lose some weight it will help your self worth.

You’re just doing this for attention.

You’ll probably grow out of it, for what it’s worth.

It’s all in your head.

Yeah, you’ve got that right. It IS all in my head.

Harboring Hatred

I realized that for a long time now, I have been holding a lot of anger and a lot of hatred towards certain people who have wronged me. Various people from my distant and not so distant past cause me distress even just at the mention of their name. I cringe and scowl scrolling past them on Facebook. I feel in the depths of my soul a lurking darkness, towards them. I hate them. Hate them.

A few hours ago I wanted to write about all the people that I hold grudges against and how they hurt me. I wanted to air their dirty laundry and expose to the world what they have done to me. How they have ruined me; how they ruined my life. I thought this would help me feel more at peace, if I shared these things. I realize now after some much needed decompression that the real issue here is me. That’s right, me. It’s me holding on to bad things. It’s me letting the people who hurt me have so much control over my life. Harboring this hatred is giving these people power over my life, over my well being. The hard part is I know I can’t let go just like that. I know that letting these hurts go is a process. Yet, it’s a process I need to start sooner rather than later. Because once this process turns to progress I will be even more free. Free from those people, free from hatred, I will be free to start my life again. And that is something worth celebrating. It’s something worth fighting for.

Traveling to Bethlehem

Have you ever stopped to think about how awful Mary and Joseph’s travel to Bethlehem must have been. In the story of Christmas, the whole trip is summarized in just one verse. Mary and Joseph traveled from Nazareth to Bethlehem, the town of David. One verse about one long journey. How long exactly? Well let’s take a look. Google tells me that traveling from Nazareth to Bethlehem via the Yitzhak Rabin Highway would take around 2 hours and 11 minutes. To me, a two hour drive is long. Since there were no cars back then, we can easily assume they traveled on foot, maybe with an animal. Google tells us that the walk would take roughly 32 hours. Now assuming they would need to stop to sleep and eat, let’s say the trip took roughly two full days.

Imagine traveling, on foot, very pregnant, for two whole days. Two days of walking nonstop. Swollen feet, sore back, full bladder, and every other side effect of pregnancy would be in full effect. That journey certainly couldn’t of been easy. Yet, they did it. They did it because they had too.

How often does life throw us out on our own “journey”. It often feels like life gives us the worst circumstances and expects us to carry on and travel through. For me, my recent journey has been with losing so much and learning to graciously accept help when offered. It has been hard and I have been kicked when I’m down but I keep going because I have too. Like Mary and Joseph, not only did they have to go to Bethlehem because Caesar told them to, but they also had to go because the prophet from long ago said the Savior of the World would come from the town of Bethlehem. Can you imagine the ramifications of they would have just quit halfway?

I’m really great at giving up. I think about giving up a lot, in fact. I often wish I could quit my job, move away, hide my face, even end my life. Problem is, I can’t quit. I need to keep going. Not because there is a prophecy about me or because the president told me too. I need to keep going because my life and my journey is meaningful to those around me.

Everyone walks there own path and has there own journey. No matter how long and hard the road may seem don’t give up on the hope that every thing you do has the potential to be meaningful to someone else. Once your life holds purpose and meaning, you’ll find giving up becomes less of an option. This doesn’t mean the road will get any easier. In fact, it could always potentially be worse. What’s important to remember is that once you walk through a really, terribly hard spot, you’ll come out on the other side stronger. Your journey will also cross paths with a multitude of other people walking their own road. You hold the power to maybe help make their journey not so hard. Let them know that they aren’t walking alone.

Keep that in mind this holiday season and into the new year. Carry on and help others to carry on. Make life worth living.

Merry Christmas friends

.

Shalom

The Side Effects of Depression

Among really good times, still lurks a heavy darkness. Depression continues to change me. It changes my mind, my relationships, my job, my home, and the way I view the world. It just finished changing my job and my home (for now) and now it’s changing my perspective. Regardless of how difficult changing jobs and housing has been, it has been a pretty positive change in the long run. I realize how incredibly draining and toxic my work environment was. I’m learning how much I was under appreciated. Finding the perfect job for me showed me how much potential I have and how much I can achieve. Moving into a new apartment that’s not falling apart and hosts a fair rent is a bonus, despite moving pains. Overall, I am incredibly happy with the way things are going,

What still lurks beneath the surface? It’s the constant fear of something about to go wrong. It’s the sinister knowledge that life can be really shitty despite everyone’s best efforts. It’s knowing that the only reason I’m alive is from just a couple handfuls of tiny pills that are worth more than my car. It’s knowing that missing taking even just one of those pills on one single day could send my life in a tailspin. It’s knowing that no matter how many pills I take, how many therapy sessions I have, no matter how many coping skills I know, how many hospital visits I log, or how many doctors I talk to, I could still decide to end it all someday. Lurking inside is the unforgiving truth that despite my best efforts, I may live in the darkness of depression for the rest of my life.

All of these things become almost a side effect of depression. Because when depression isn’t consuming my mind, the weight of living with depression does. So yeah, things seem to be looking up, but I tread on eggshells. I’m learning to realize that my optimism can sometimes be my downfall. It’s realizing that the lower my expectations, the less likely I will be let down. Depression sucks, but if you’re forced to live with it, you have to learn to adapt to make life as pleasant as possible.

Where is The Hope?

Why does it feel like there is nobody there when you need them the most. People always say they are there to listen, but bail out the second hard stuff is mentioned. Sometimes I just want someone that is unbiased to hear me out when I’m in pain, but therapy isn’t just one phone call away. Unfortunately, a reality of life if we are always alone. At the end of the day it just me. I will be the only one buried in my grave.

Prayers these days feel more like whispers of rage and hope seems like a fleeting wish. I wrestle too much with my mind that I can’t seem to grasp even an idea that maybe there is a better tomorrow or maybe that there is more to this horrible life. I’m like Daniel in the Lions den but I’m being devoured. Or the three courageous men in the furnace except I’m being consumed by the fire. Oxygen refuses to remain in my lungs as the throat that is life slowly shuts and I’m struggling to find my next breath.

I often feel like death is the better option as opposed to struggling to stay alive. My world is getting increasingly smaller with every faithful step forward. Like I am swimming against the current, I’m so close to being whisked off to sea.

Where is the hope?