My Friend the Grim Reaper

When I am in the deepest throes of my hopelessness, helplessness and purposeless - aka the three musketeers of my mental illness - I take comfort that my friend, "The Grim Reaper," never takes a vacation.

Lest you think I am referring to suicide, although it crosses my mind fleetingly, I am really just referring to death. Death in all its myriad forms: accidental, deliberate, painful, prolonged, quick or quiet. The eternal sleep. The complete peace. The space beyond the breath.

If my friend, "The Grim Reaper," chooses to visit, whether invited or not, I have no fear. I have done enough. Though there could always have been more to do. Those things can be just as well left to those who remain behind.

Yes, there would be those whom I would miss and who would miss me. But we would all go on. Well...I wouldn't...but that's another story for another day.

The Stigma of Mental Illness

It is not possible to write in one sitting how a person with mental illness feels about living in a world that by and large either turns away or expresses a lack of understanding that leads to resentment and judgment for those who suffer with the illness as well as those who do not.

I am often just as ashamed of my illness as the world is ashamed of me. This shame leads to many twisted behaviors such as: trying to act, "Normal," lying to cover up one's true feelings or state of mind or thinking up elaborate socially acceptable excuses for one's behavior. These excuses all involve common physical symptoms like a headache, back pain, a flu or a cold. Goodness gracious, those who are acquainted with me must think I am a physical wreck! However, the motivation is always the same: it is easier for people to understand a physical symptom than a mental symptom.

With all the recent incidences reported in the news of violent behavior fueled by those either too ashamed or too alienated to seek out mental health services it would seem a, "no-brainer," (no pun intended) that we examine the seriousness of our lack of care for those who now feel their only option to broadcast a cry for help is to harm either themselves or others or both.

Instead, many times, the person in question is described as mentally ill with a certain inflection of disgust tinged with derision. As a matter of record, the majority of mentally ill people are NOT violent and tend to be the victim of violence rather then the inflicter of violence. Equally true, not all violent people are mentally ill.

A recent government study reported that 25% of Americans are suffering with mental illness in any given year and that by the year 2020, mental illness will be the second leading cause of disability in the United States.

Will 2020 be the year that people begin to address this epidemic? Until then, millions will suffer with an illness they did not ask for and prefer to keep hidden. Many will die and lives will be irreparably damaged. This is the price of stigma. A high price indeed.

The Tyranny of Perfection

The symbol of my perfection - the tyrant Napoleon.

He lurks within my mind repeating his relentless mantra, "You are never good enough." You see, he is/was perfect. He was lover, conqueror and emperor. The world his oyster.

On the other hand, I perceive my world as a shattered glass box: delicate, fragmented and limited. I see the world in a distorted way. But don't we all? Still, I spend my time trying to put the glass box back together. Piece by piece. Feeling that when all is reconstructed then I will be perfect. My own lover, conqueror and empress. La Napoleone.

Unfortunately, I never seem to get there. But I keep trying and when I feel like I can't try anymore, the black dog comes: depression. In depression, there is no need for perfection. There is only the need to take the next breath. If indeed I even want to do that.

When the black dog leaves, I get up. I brush myself off and I start the reconstruction all over again.

Such is the nature of the tyranny of perfection: my own private Napoleon.

Sitting in the Eye of the Storm

Originally posted on Tribe.net on 04/26/09:

Having just come out of another depressive episode - duration of 3+ months - I am now standing in the eye of the storm.

Within the eye, I see everything with great clarity, the air is fresh, colors vibrant, love abundant. The mind races from one thought to another as a bee from one beautiful flower to the next, for I know that at any minute it could all be gone.

In truth, if history is any predictor, it will end and the cycle for me will begin again. The storm will pass through and I will curl up into the protective cocoon of the darkness to steel myself against the mental onslaught.

Then I wait. I wait for the eye of clarity to pass over again.

An example of my thoughts during the storm time, "I am to the point now where I feel that no matter what I do, I will eventually go back to depression. This has created a sense of hopelessness and lack of motivation that I have not experienced previously. I feel that if I have to continue suffering these cycles for the rest of my life I don't think it is worth the effort to continue on. I would rather choose the peace of permanent sleep."

The storm is powerful. I hope the eye ( read, "I,") is more powerful.

My Mission Statement

Originally posted on Tribe.net on 04/19/09

Updated on 05/20/09:

I was recently asked by someone to write my, "Mission Statement," for my own life. This came out of a discussion where I expressed that I felt I have no purpose and thus do not deserve to live. I have been thinking about this for the last few days.

My Mission Statement:

With every breath I strive to be a co-creator with the omnipotent power that resides within and binds all of us together.

The two most important principles on which I will build the foundation of my life are:

1) I will have co-creation not creed 2) I will have mercy not judgment

I dedicate myself to:

a) Love and joy

b) Ahimsa

c) Present moment living

d) Asking for help when I need it

e) Helping others in need and being a supportive friend

f) Accepting others as they are

g) Embracing my dark side without fear

h) Honoring my family of origin

i) Loving my husband unconditionally

j) Being a good stweard of the Earth and the creatures of the Earth

k) Bringing forth the stories that lie within me

l) Walking my own path and not the path that others would impose on me

The Snow Leopard as Totem Animal

Originally posted on Tribe.net on 10/17/08:

Snow leopards are solitary, elusive creatures. A snow leopard roams the realm of the Himalayas remaining alone except to mate.

1) She symbolizes self-reliance as learned thru abandonment and rejection - an experience I know only too well - I was always the geek, the freak or the one drummer who wasn't marching to the beat of others.

2) She symbolizes balance as learned thru living in the precarious realm of the mountain heights. Her paws are wide and well insulated to walk upon the snow. In my life I have tried to learn how to straddle the world of the, "normal" and the vivid world that swirls within my own mind.

3) She understands the power of silence and mystery: gliding silently thru the snow, seeing all but being seen by none. Such is the path of one who has Bipolar Disorder - always flying under the radar, deliberately vague in order to avoid being discovered. The consummate actress: always showing a mask of happiness but often hiding the deepest of despair.

4) She learns to understand the power of the shadow within. Her coat is creamy white but is covered with black rosettes and rings that represent the perfect balance of black and white; dark and light; good and evil.

To suffer with Bipolar Disorder is to face the darkest part of one's self: the destroyer. But to be destroyed is to begin again and again and again. The challenge of this illness is to look into the face of darkness not as enemy but as the balance necessary for integration. There is no light without darkness. The gift of Bipolar illness is the ability to embrace the darkness in order to understand the light.

The Blue Dragonfly

Originally posted on Tribe.net 10/03/08:

Yesterday, my husband and I were washing our car and we were joined by a lovely, blue dragonfly. He (or she) hovered in the air all around us apparently quite attracted to what we were doing.

This lovely little creature floated in the air as a helicopter would for what seemed like minutes at a time and so I had an excellent opportunity to study him/her and was quite fascinated. A beautiful blue color with large eyes and gossamer wings that shimmered in the fading light of late afternoon.

I decided to do some research into the symbol of the dragonfly. Here are some of the things I found:
a) A blue dragonfly symbolizes the coming of Fall
b) The Native Americans felt that dragonflies held the souls of the dead
c) Just as the butterfly, the dragonfly represents transformation by beginning life in water (just as we begin life in that watery space of the womb) and ending life in the air
d) The Japanese saw the dragonfly as a symbol of renewal or resurrection
e) The English thought they were evil cohorts of the devil (the only negative symbolism I found)
f) And the dragonfly has also been associated with a time of explosive creativity after a time of hardship.

I hope this is what the Universe was saying to me as I am preparing to write my first novel. The novel that has been forming in my head since I was sixteen. It is a hopeful sign that finally I will bring forth that which has been waiting to be born for 30 years. Thank you blue dragonfly....