Saturday, May 27, 2017

Depression Kills

"Committed Suicide"
Is how the death’s explained.
Does suicide kill?
Or is another responsible?

Where does it start?
When death is what you see.
Who is to be blamed?
Who hung the crooked frame?

Suicide is the result
But not the chosen cause.
Depression murders
Yet, no one hears her.

It was this, it was that.
He did, she did, they said.
Where is the family?
An unseen mystery.

Looking for real help,
They lived invisible.
There, but a shadow,
An empty French chateau.

An intoxicating drink,
The thought of being free,
Perverted justice of all,
Innocence takes the fall.

See who is perishing,
Forget, remember no more.
Advancing in the ranks
Never voiced complaints.

Depression hides in smiles
Worn upon the face
Laugh's -the soul's medicine
Until alone, it is too thin.

Depression kills.
A sickness of the soul
Continually, she breaks down,
A castle with no sound.

The afflictions build
The wounds scarless to view
Distinctly taken residence.
They say selfishness makes sense.

How cruel they speak of one,
Who died in agony,
Those who suffer understand,
Unworthy, though, to lend a hand.

Death was not self inflicted,
The murdered one, in shame,
Family and friends cower,
The victim is to blame.

Stop this madness, please.
Identify the criminal.
Open your mouth for the speechless
For those appointed to die.

Their estate is barren.
No fruit upon the vine.
No one pleads their cause.
There will be none heard.

(photo credits: soisson pernant chateau walkway by magma storm66 on deviant art, urbex verdure by ashleygino on deviant art)

Friday, May 26, 2017

Keep Thinking of Suicide

It has been about a year since I have posted. (Whoa, no, I checked. It has been two years.) My parents died -- the only ones I ever had:  one allowed me to be horribly abused, and the other who inflicted the torture. Then, a year after their death, I have been working full-time (amazingly) and have not had time to write. I am currently, finally, unemployed and doing a lot of reflecting. My work contract ended. I was very glad -- both that I was able to fulfill it and that it was over.

I am mentally to the point that I can function in the world--society--and hold down a job. I suppose this is a good thing--though, I push myself to do it. I have considered that it might be an alter--a compartmental part of my self--that is able to function highly that has emerged.

I say this because when I had a week off of work I rested. Then, when I had to return to work I began to freak out, becoming very suicidal in thought. I so badly did not want to return. However, I literally forced myself to do it. Somehow, I pushed inside and found a part of me that was able to get myself out of the bed, dressed and to my job.

It was only recently on my last few days that one of my co-workers told me that months earlier she thought I was upset with her because I no longer said, “Good Morning.” I confessed that I was struggling to return to work, and in an unfortunate vulnerable moment told her I was struggling with suicide because I so badly did not want to come back. I don’t think she ever thought of me the same. She was looking forward to the day I left.

One day at lunch I overhead her in conversation say proudly that no one in her family was mentally ill. She was not like “those" people.

And there on the vulnerable day, just two or three days before my contract was over, I exposed my frailty -- I was. I came from a long line of the mentally ill.

Now again reflecting, I was only hoping by God’s grace to save my own children from this curse, the abusing cycle. They suffer from depression and other bodily auto immune frailties but do not have the horrendous abusive background that I broke away from. I did not raise them perfectly. I hurt them some as they witnessed my own horrible struggle to recover and fight to survive. This has scarred them but not devestated their soul, nor their capacity to be whole.

Now--as I see how life turned out-- I believed it would have been better if I had never married or had children.

I was so full of promise. I was so determined I would do better, that life would be so different away from the abuse. I had no way to know it at 19. I didn’t understand that depth of damage 18 years of continuous abuse would have on my mental stability nor my capacity to function as a parent.

I had no way to foretell that my marriage would not be a joyful companionship, a soulmate. (Is that even reality? At 50+, I confess I still do not know.) I have been married 32 years, almost 33. My husband is a kind, yet stubborn man. He has never inflicted physical or verbal harm on me. He does not drink, nor do drugs. Sports and music are his vices. He crushes me though, and does not seem to be connected enough to know or care. He does not want to get that deeply involved into me. He loves me in his own way, his own level, but we are not soulmates as I had hoped to have been with. He does not possess the capacity to desire this level of knowing another. He does not want to adventure into that depth or journey.

Thankfully, I know God. He connects to me in the deepest places of my soul as no human ever has, and as it seems, I am at least half way through life, God is the only one who will know me or ever care to know me in this way.

I must die to this desire to know a human in this way. It will not be part of my life here on earth. There comes a time that as we age we must adjust and realize that some of the things we hoped for will never be.

Still I confess, I had one or two souls in life that were both much older than me that I did connect with in my soul when I was in my teens. Both had love interest in another and I think they were tripping on drugs but somehow when our eyes met I had the ability to read their minds and they read mine -- or so I thought. As our eyes locked I thought they knew my soul and I knew theirs, not in a sexual way but in a soulish one, to me a much higher plane. The older one I have no clue what happen to him, the one maybe 10 years younger but still quite older than me ended up marrying a girl who was three years older than I that attended my high school. We have been in touch once or twice but it has never been the same. Like so much in life, we were simply biding time and ended up being passing ships.

And at this point, I find myself dying, and maybe this is why I ponder why I am alive.

Why am I alive?

When we are young we think it is for love, and possibly, the hope to raise a loving family. For me, coming from a hideously abusive one, I KNEW I would do so much better. Yet, after this has happen in real life, when this is complete--as I am in the stage of my children moving on and not really being connected to me--I am not needed by them. I am alone. Alone in the sense of not being close or wanted, discarded. But that would mean I was one held and I am not sure I ever was. I was a necessity to their survival because they were young and dependent, not a mother adored, a mother loved.

I so desperately wanted my children to have a bond with me, a special loving closeness.

A bond that I never came close to with my parents because of the torturous abuse.

And yet, while I did my very best, I served them and raised them and tried to provide as much time as I was able to show them love and to be with them.... they never were close to me.

They never celebrated my birthday or mother’s day, and unless prompted by obligation, they never will. (I confess I do blame my husband for not aiding them in their youngest of years in knowing how special it was to honor me. It was frequently just another day. I was ignored and they were too young to know any better.) Yet, now, even as they know better, they don’t make much of an effort, if any at all.

Functioning in the Work Place

And my husband now wants me to work. He hopes I will for the next fifteen years. He counts on the money, though we have enough to retire. He has dreams of writing music when he retires and his studio wants drive his push for me to be employed. He wants me to work until 67 and then retire. It is not what I want to do, but he does not consult me. He has his plans for me.

Am I a human? Do I have a say? Am I alive? (A little voice in me cries, “Help me.” But who will answer my cry?)

I can’t sort it all out. Is this all too much or am I too confused? Does it make sense why I want out of it all? Why I see no reason to have hope to go on? Why death is so appealing to life on earth? How many times have I pleaded with God that I am ready? Why does he take the person that wants to live and leaves the one that wants to die? If so many people need to die this day, I am volunteering to him.  “Here I am, God, take me.” Yet, I still breathe, and the soul so loved and needed and wanted by their family is taken to eternity. Why does life work this way?

I break down and cry. Real tears water up in my eyes and my forehead tightens in pain. My eyes drift to the right and I happen to see my Bible open. I peer onto the page. Proverbs is what I was last reading. “Give strong drink to him who is perishing, and wine to those who are bitter of heart. Let him drink and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more.” (Proverbs 31: 6-7). Even God, in his mercy, knows the pain of living and of human suffering.

I know I need help but I don’t want to spend them $100 for counseling. Should I let my counselor know or should I ever care? Will anyone read this? Will anyone care?

(photo credit: Mirror by Tyutya on Deviant art, materials 16 by Tyutya, when the sun goes down 584 by Tyutya)

Friday, June 5, 2015

Do you know why people wish they were dead? Understanding Suicidal Thinking

Intro: I write this from the mind-frame of someone who has suicidal thoughts. I do not have them today, but I write this to be informative and give insight so that if you have someone in your life you might be able to understand how they think or even if you yourself have suicidal thoughts you might be able to identify with some of them and know you are not alone.


Have you ever wished you were dead? I have. Some times these thoughts are far away and rarely cross my mind, but other times they cling by closely, hanging around like a sticky spider web that just won't shake off, junking up my thinking.

Photo Credit: Katey Smothers

Most of the time what proceeds suicidal feelings are thoughts and occurrences that make you think  that your life is little, your impact is little, that people do not move forward or upward by your existence but that you are a weight, a load, or a liability to the people you consider in your inner circle.

When you see no purpose for your life, when people don't talk to you or enjoy you, when you don't make or keep real friendships, and/or when you believe almost everyone in the world would just go on living if you did not, it is easy to start feeling like you and everyone else would be better off if you were no longer living.

Most people who wish they were dead, already feel dead. They go through the motions of life as though they were characters of mindless "walking dead" bodies feeding off of those who live. And these thoughts and feelings can be passing or simply come upon you like a fog that will not clear.

When a person thinks they are not noticed, asked, invited, included, thought of, recommended, chosen or wanted by others, it is easy to feel dead, because you already feel basically invisible.

Negative Attention

And if people prone to suicidal thoughts are noticed it is frequently not in a good way. It is because they are seen as aggravating, a nuisance, an embarrassment or oddball (to say the least). They know if they disappeared for weeks on end, no one would barely miss them. People on purpose do not make a point to include them in anything important, meaningful or necessary.

Do you know what rejection feels like? Do you know what it is like to be outgoing, energetic, talkative and to be avoided, shunned and not responded to. At least when someone is important, they get a rejection letter. Imagine what it feels like to be told over and over you will be contacted and you never receive that call. I have stopped counting the number of times that has happen to me.

Frankly, my life does not cross many others in a way that I am uniquely connected. Of course, I have many casual encounters, but they end in don't call me, I will call you. And if you do call or get in touch, likely you will never hear back.

Am I repeating myself? Of course, because this kind of life is a broken record; it is a continual pattern; it has been lived over and over for the past fifty years.

No One Knew, How Could They Know

And when I do the evil thing of daring to speak up and openly say what I am thinking; I am wrong and hurting people. I apologize and promise to be better, to act the more proper role, to be a better person. Because no one wants to know when you feel like this.... but they all love to say when a person is gone, "if I only knew," "oh, how selfish," "why didn't she/he tell anyone," "I didn't have a clue," or "how could he/she think that way?"

They beat themselves up. Agonize over what they might have done differently. But the truth of the matter is no one would have done anything differently because they DID NOT. That is the truth; that is what is so freaking upsetting about when someone you know is having suicidal thoughts. You really don't want to know; You don't need that kind of problem; You don't want to deal with such negativity; You don't want your life interrupted or bothered. It is really not your problem; it is his or hers.

Yes, a person with suicidal thoughts needs help. They need someone to listen who will help them get out of the negative downward spiral of thought.

What If You Believe In God?

And for someone who does not believe in God, life = continuing on and death = ending it all. But for the one who believes, life = continuing on and death = a brand new perfected life. So it is even harder for someone who believes in eternal life to cling on to earthly life and the misery that is so often associated with living as a human in the flesh. It is only knowing Biblical truth that keeps a believer in God from NOT killing themselves, but so many “believers” are never taught the BIBLE.

I am not going to kill myself; I am not strong enough to do that, and more importantly my faith in God is stronger than me.

I am not going to kill myself; I am not strong enough to do that, and more importantly my faith in God is stronger than my own will in me.

I know I must renew my mind and stop thinking negatively. Reading the Bible or Books with a lot of Bible included are very helpful for renewing your mind. In doing this I renew my thoughts to think as God thinks. God made me and He alone gets to pick how and when I will die. The choice is not mine if I am surrendered to HIS will.

I must be willing to serve, I must focus on Jesus and let HIM rise to top in my priorities. Pleasing Him must be everything to me.

John the Baptist says in John 3:30:
"He must increase, but I must decrease.

Can I become nothing to the world for Him? Am I willing to be unseen for His sake, so that He may be seen? Can I find fulfillment in this kind of living?

Jesus in the garden weeping blood before being sentenced to death and going to the cross says this to God, in Luke 22:42:

 "Father, if You are willing, remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Yours be done."

Can I endure earthly suffering for the sake of Jesus? He did for me. If He is really everything I need and if I have Him, why do I ever see myself as lacking or needing more? If He has chosen me, isn't that everything, essentially the only thing that is important? This are huge questions to not be taken lightly or flippantly. Of course, the churchy answer is YES, yes. But what are the real answers; the answer God already knows because He knows my spirit and soul.

HOWEVER, if a person does not know God, can't you see how he/she might not have the ability to renew his or her mind? They don't know how to begin; what to think; how to stop the destroying thoughts. And these thoughts come from the Destroyer, the enemy of our soul, the enemy of God. Satan wants to kill, steal and destroy people and all that is good. He wants to rid the world of anything that has to do with Jesus and the Bible. Ever wonder why school curriculum is godless?

But I do know God and His Word, and I am still growing and learning. Therefore, it no wonder when I sing praises to God, I am so exuberant. God saved me from physical death before it was my time and spiritual death.  I know every breath I take is because of Him, so every minute I live is for Him. My life has been bought, purchased, redeemed. I am not my own. I am a living walking testimony that God is real and this faith is not blind faith but faith that comes by life and death experience. I live today, because He LIVES!

Just like this blown glass, we are each uniquely beautiful to God!

Is God my crutch? No, He is my reality check. He gives my life balance and gets my mind back into healthy thinking.

If you need help or no someone who needs help reach out. There are so many places and people that really want to help even though it seems like they don’t. Let someone know you are seriously struggling. And if that person does not help speak up again, and again. Cry out to God. HE will HEAR you, but you MUST listen to Him and obey. He wants to set you free from suicidal thoughts. He wants you to know the truth -- that you are precious to HIM! That He loves you and accepts you as you are today.

Romans 5:8 But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.