In Mourning.

“ I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart.” — Romans 9:2

“There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief.” — Aeschylus

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.” — Washington Irving

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There’s no beating around the bush about this — today is not an easy day. Today marks the 14th anniversary of my Dad passing away. And, while that may seem like quite a long time; to those who have lost someone, especially someone who you were closed to and loved, fourteen years is nothing. Fourteen years may as well have been yesterday.

Because, as they never tell you in books or movies or anything of the such — grief never truly goes away. There’s no cure for it. It is a permanent scar upon the heart that only you can truly see. Can truly feel.

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The thing about grief is that it is much like it’s blood brother, Depression. It’s not always front and center. Sure, it never goes away, but most days (once enough time has passed), it plays quietly in the background like an ever-present, but ever so soft dirge. Some days, most days really, you don’t notice it. You go about your day as if life is normal. These are the blessed Good Days.

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The Bad Days are an entirely different story. Again, much like it’s blood brother Depression, when grief rears it’s ugly head, it is an unstoppable wave of sorrow and pain. The weight of loss beats you down and threatens to drown you in anguish and heartache. When you start crying uncontrollably over something seemingly simple — a lyric to a song, a line in a movie, a passerby who resembles too much like the person you lost, a smell of something that reminded you of them. Even a good event, such as getting married, giving birth, or a long awaited promotion, can bring about the torrent of remorse — because the one person who you wish you could share this moment with is gone forever.

Bad Days can (and most often do) start from the moment you wake up. You wake up sad (as if there were ever such an ineffective description as this) and no amount of attempted joy will ever bring you up from the true pits of despair. These are the worst of the Bad Days.

One of the worst aspects of Bad Days is that they can compound so quickly. Bad Days turn into Bad Weeks. Even Bad Months. When grief and depression share an unshakable suffocating bond upon your very being. When your heart is in an ever tight vice, slowly crushing you. 

And the worst part about the Bad Days, the grief, and the depression, is that it’s an Invisible Monster. One that is tearing you apart and no one else can see it. No one else can feel it. No one else can truly experience it. 

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Today is a Bad Day for me. I woke up missing my Dad and remembered the date. Today is not going to be an easy day for me in the slightest. But, I’m still going to go on living it. I’m still going to take care of myself as best as I can. And, as much as I have the deep desire to be alone, I know I’m going to go to a bad place mentally and emotionally if I allow myself to push people away. 

So I won’t. I know my Dad would want me to be happy. I know my Dad wouldn’t want me missing him and letting the despair crush me. I know my Dad wouldn’t want me to suffer. So, in honor of him and in despite of myself, I will make a day of today. 

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In closing, I leave you with one more quote. It’s from the last part of the seventh book of the Harry Potter series written by J.K. Rowling. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The quote was by Dumbledore: “Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all those who live without love.” 

The Monster Inside.

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“Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” — Neil Gaiman

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Today is a good day. I woke up with relatively little physical pain — but more importantly, my head was in a good place. That doesn’t always happen. Some days it can be hell to just to get out of bed. I got lucky. Today wasn’t that day.

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I’m pretty blunt when it comes to my continual battle with depression. I don’t pretend that I don’t have it or hold on to the illusion that it will eventually go away. It’s hereditary, literally a part of who I am; so instead of even bothering to try and sweep it under the rug, I pull it out and expose it the daylight. I want to lead by example that you can still have a pretty normal life while dealing with the demons inside. If nothing more than it keeps that dark voice at bay.

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I’m here today to tell you that depression is a liar. I’m here today to tell you that you are good enough. I’m here today to tell you that there are people out there who do love you and that you are not alone. I’m here today to tell you that all is not lost. 

I’m here to tell you that the voice inside is wrong.

I’m also here today because I have been told that I am alone, no one loves me, that I will never be good enough and that my life is meaningless. And I fought back. I fight back. Because, while most of my days are good days, there are still days that are hell. There are days when the monster inside rears its ugly head and takes hold. Sometimes there’s a trigger — but not always. There are days when everything is going fantastic and I struggle so hard to keep my head above the mental dark waters. 

The worst part about this is that the darkness inside doesn’t need an excuse to try and destroy you. The monster lurks in the shadows. Always waiting.

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I’m also here today to tell you that having depression doesn’t make you weak — it makes you strong. Having depression puts you in the same boat as Winston Churchill. Robin Williams. Mark Twain. Edgar Allen Poe. Charles Dickens. Stephen Fry. Ernest Hemingway. Abraham Lincoln. Calvin Coolidge. Michelangelo. Isaac Newton. J. Robert Oppenheimer. William Faulkner. Edgar Degas. Hans Christian Anderson.T.S. Eliot. Kurt Cobain. Kurt Vonnegut. Jackson Pollock. Akira Kurosawa.

I am a fighter and so are you. And in this fight you are not alone. Ever.

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Embrace the good days. They are more frequent than you realize. Know that even when the battle is at its worst, it still doesn’t have to be a losing one. Know that no matter how right it feels to give up, it’s not. Know that, while not everyone wins the battle, the only one who truly makes that decision is you. You are not alone and your story doesn’t have to end here.

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You can survive this. I make the choice to live. So can you. One day at a time.

George Bailey

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“Well, not just one wish. A whole hatful. Mary, I know what I’m gonna do tomorrow and the next day and the next year and the year after that. I’m shaking the dust of this crummy little town off my feet and I’m gonna see the world.” James Stewart as George Bailey — It’s a Wonderful Life

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George Bailey was the model person that everyone strived to be. He knew from the moment he was born what he thought his purpose in life was. If you were to ask him what he was going to do with this life, without batting an eye, he would tell you that he was going to be an engineer and a world traveler. Certainly not married or fathering any children. At first chance he was going to leave Bedford Falls and never look back. Not only that, but you could depend on George in a pinch to help you out — no matter what the problem was. He was mister go-to and reliable.

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Life, however, had an entirely different path for Mr. Bailey. His father’s business, the Building and Loan, he would inherit. His travels around the world, as fas as we’re aware, never happened. In fact, it appears that he never even leaves Bedford Falls. He not only gets married to someone he never thought he would marry, but has four kids and lives in a house he shunned growing up. In summary, it’s a complete 180 of everything he planned his life to be. And he doesn’t take the change in path lightly.

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Two of the things that makes It’s a Wonderful Life far ahead of it’s time is that it brings suicide and depression to the discussion table and it’s done in a non-patronizing manor. George Bailey, who suffers from severe depression throughout most of the movie, is not considered weak for feeling this way. In fact, most of the town regards him as one of the bravest people who has ever lived there. When he reaches the point of wanting to end his life, the whole town rallies together to come to his aid. Nobody tells him to “lighten up” or “stop being sad”. When he’s on the bridge, nobody drives by him yelling the word “jump”. Nobody calls him a failure; even though he feels like one.

The other big thing is that it shows the impact one person’s life has on others. One of the most crucial lines in the movie is given by his guardian angel, Clarence: “Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?” George Bailey witnesses, in full detail, what would happen if he had never been born in the first place. He sees just how much of a negative ripple effect he would leave if he took his own life. He finally has a chance to observe what an impact he has made. As Clarence put it: “You see, George, you’ve really had a wonderful life. Don’t you see what a mistake it would be to throw it away?”

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If ever this timeless holiday classic was most pertinent, it’s now. “Hope” seems to be an increasingly rare commodity. We have elected a “warped, frustrated old man” who may very well turn America into a giant Pottersville. Multiple studies have shown a dramatic increase in depression in most age groups within the past decade. We are, for lack of a better term, suffering. This film, which just so happens to be celebrating it’s 70th anniversary this year, is just as poignant and reverent as the year it was released. 

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So, go watch It’s a Wonderful Life. If nothing else than to be reminded “Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends.”

Irreplaceable.

In an effort to purge Harvey  (see Purging Harvey 8/19/2016) tonight, I took a hot shower to try and nail down why I was feeling low. I'm certain a good portion of it is that the weather has taken a turn for the dark and dreary. But there's was something else, underlaying that I couldn't figure out until just now.

I have a genuine fear of being replaceable.

Which, in all honesty, I had no idea I had until just now. As far as phobias, go, it's 100% valid. For starters, we all die, and, thus, there will be a time when we just are no longer here. It's a phobia that those who struggle with depression, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies have in greater strength than those who don't suffer from those. It's also, in my opinion, one of the leading causes of addiction. We fear that we're going to be replaced by those we love, so we turn to substances that will never abandon us (using the "royal we" here).  I have also been in many a situation where I actually was replaced. Suddenly and completely. I've been fired, laid off, and had my heart broken quite a few times. There's been other things in my past that also validate this fear; but I'm not going to go into them right now.

Now that I got to the root of what was making me morose, I did something that immediately gave me a 180: I said the words "I'm not replaceable" out loud. It was like a boulder rolling off my shoulders. And it's also 100% valid.

There are plenty of people who are like me, but there's only one me. There's only one person on this Earth who has had all of my experiences. All of my dreams. All of my failures. All of my friends and family. Even all of my things. There has only been one me and there will always be one me. No one can take that from me. I may lose more jobs. I may lose more friends and love interests, but I will never lose me until I pass from this life.

I am irreplaceable. You are irreplaceable. Stop living life like someone can take your place. No one can and no one ever will.

Purging Harvey

So, before I begin, this afternoon, I gave my depression the name Harvey. As in, the giant, invisible rabbit from the James Stewart movie. The name fits - as no one but me knows the full effect of Harvey. And no one hears Harvey but me. And, sometimes, many times, Harvey won't shut up.

The importance of this is that giving something a name gives you dominion over it. The first step a person does, psychologically, to place control over something is to name it. A nickname is a perfect example of this. People name their children and pets. I named my depression.

So, the reason I go into this is depression reared its ugly head this afternoon. I won't go into details, other than plans falling through unexpectedly and my brain taking hold of it and running hard with it. As my brain can be prone to do. Now, I will say that there were other factors involved  (especially with how stressful this week has been), but I was, unknowingly, prone for another episode. So, this one seemingly innocuous incident snowballed immediately mentally.

Now, instead of me discussing the topic further into detail, I'm going to go further into detail about me fighting it. What I'm doing when the struggle is truly real. Because, when it comes to depression (and, from what I understand about other mental illnesses) is that there's really only two options: defeating it or letting it defeat you. Again, there are days when the battle is lost before it even begins; when all you can do is ride out the storm. But even just struggling through it is a way of fighting it.

Now, each person has their own way of coping in a healthy manner. Mine is writing. I have found that, with depression, the analogy of "better out than in".  Which is what I am now passing on to you.

When sunny skies suddenly turn into a squall? Write.

When you've been faced with an overwhelming situation? Write.

When you get some bad news that comes out of nowhere? Write.

When you wake up in a funk and you have no idea why? Write.

No matter the reason, or even if there is one, the best way I have found to fight off the demon is to write.

Even if it's just screaming on a piece of paper or a Word document. No one says you have to keep what you put down. You just have to get it out so you can move on and move forward.

Just Keep Living

On April 5th, 1996, Kurt Cobain, the lead singer of Nirvana passed away. His body, along with a suicide note and the shotgun that ended his life, were found with him in his home. On August 11th, 2014, Robin Williams, probably one of the funniest and prolific actors of our time, passed away. He was found strangled to death. What do these two events have in common? The cause of death - suicide.

Four days ago, the New York Times ran an article with the title of "U.S. Suicide Rate Surges to a 30-Year High". (I've posted the link below) It increased in nearly every age group; except for older adults. Women were hit the hardest by this - with a 63% jump in the age bracket between 45 and 64. Sixty-three percent. Think about it. "The increases were so widespread that they lifted the nation's suicide rate to 13 per 100,000 people, the highest since 1986." In 2014, it was the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. Which was more than AIDS.

There's a suicide in the USA every 13 minutes.

Why am I bringing this up? Because, even though we are fully in the 21st century, the topics of suicide, depression, and mental illness are still taboo topics that most people shy away from. If you bring up AIDS, cancer, even ebola and people will get up and arms and demand a cure. But, as soon as you mention depression and suicide and people seek to change the subject as quick as possible. There was a USA Today article (which I posted below) going into how, even though it theoretically 100% preventable, it is low in the nation's health industry's priority list. There is far more research and funding going into automobile deaths, which, for the record, is less than suicide, than there is self-inflicted death. We are in collective denial about one of our country's most serious problems that we face.

Yet this is one problem that will never be fully swept under the rug.

The good news is that there is a non-profit organization called To Write Love On Her Arms (again, link below) which has become incredibly popular within the last ten years. The organization's focus is present hope for people struggling with addiction, depression, self injury, and thoughts of suicide. The very first thing you'll see when you click on the website is the words "Hope is real. Help is real. Your story is important." They also have slogans such as "You are enough" and "No one else can play your part". In fact, they have even partnered with the Crisis Text Line to further help people from taking their own lives. They've become a voice to those who thought they did not have one.

There's also a growing trend in people getting semicolon tattoos. The significance behind it is those who have struggled with suicide, self harm, and addiction who are making the statement of "my story isn't over yet". Yes, there's a link below. I personally am planning on getting a semicolon tattoo sometime this year.

To wrap this up the best as I can, here's the number to the National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255. If you are uncomfortable talking with someone, you can text START to 741-741 and go from there. There are people waiting to hear from you, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

The world is already a dark place. Don't be one less light shining in it.

Links:

https://afsp.org/about-suicide/suicide-statistics/

http://www.save.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=home.viewPage&page_id=705D5DF4-055B-F1EC-3F66462866FCB4E6

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/04/22/health/us-suicide-rate-surges-to-a-30-year-high.html?nlid=67235496&_r=0

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2014/10/09/suicide-mental-health-prevention-research/15276353/

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/07/07/project-semicolon-tattoos_n_7745358.html

https://twloha.com

http://www.crisistextline.org

Breaking Through The Clouds

I had a bit of a occupational setback today. I won't go into details, but the second job I just got might not work out. I'll leave it at that.

I'm not going to lie - I'm pretty bummed about this. In fact, I was at my normal job when the tendrils of depression started to sink in. But, before they could really take hold, a voice told me something I needed to hear: "You're stronger than this."

I am. I've struggled with depression; but I'm stronger than it. As many times as I've felt utterly and completely defeated, I'm not. As my dear friend Chris has reminded me in the past, I've overcome so much more than my brain tells me that I have.

Everyone has setbacks. That's life. Everyone struggles from time to time. It is what it is. But, you're bigger than that. Stronger than that. It might not feel like it. I can attest that it definitely doesn't feel that way; but you are. So, instead of accepting defeat, shortcomings, depression, and the dark thoughts in the night - prove to them just how wrong they are.

Because, in the end, you are your own worst enemy. But you can also be your own best friend.

Living With the Demon

"Some day soon we all will be together. If the Fates allow. Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow." -Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

A friend of mine almost killed himself tonight. I watched the drama unfold on Facebook and (thankfully) a mutual friend intervened and saved his life. If she hadn't come for him when she did, he would have jumped off the bridge and taken his own life.

It seems a lot of people I know are going through some heavy stuff right now. I know of two separate people who broke up with their significant others on New Year's Eve. For good reason, mind you, but still a major coincidence. There's the friend who almost killed himself; and I'm pretty certain his relationship is over with his girlfriend. Then the attempted break-in just before New Year's with me and my aunt. Everyone I come across is extremely unhappy and to the point where we're at each other's throats. Which is unusual, because normally people are a lot calmer after the post-holiday stress is off their shoulders and many people begin resolutions to improve their lives. I personally am on the edge of falling into a deep depression; and if it wasn't for the drastic increase in my vitamin intake, I probably would have gone over that edge already.

Speaking of which, I feel for my friend. I know exactly what it's like to be in that place mentally, because I've been there quite a few times. I've never taken that final step because there's always been someone there to intervene. It wouldn't surprise me if I get to that place soon, again-especially with an upcoming birthday (which is never guaranteed to be a good day. Sometimes it is. Other times, well...). I'm not going to, mind you, because I know how many people it would hurt and I would never intentionally hurt someone. But the darkness is beginning to unfold and one of the classic signs (the disappearance of my appetite) has already begun. Thankfully, I'm recognizing the signs and, as I said before, I've amped up my vitamin intake to combat it. So far, so good.

The hardest thing someone with depression can do is talk about it. We speak not of the devil that is dragging us down. Instead, with our silence, we allow it to consume us. That is why I post about it so much. I know what it's like to let the darkness all consume me and if I don't shed light on it by talking about it, I know it will claim me. Just like it almost claimed my friend tonight.

The Ever-Present Darkness

So, just in case you haven't heard the news, Robin Williams passed away yesterday, and the cause of death is suicide. The latest I've read is that he strangled himself with a belt and had self inflicted superficial cuts on his arms just before his took his life. His passing hits me pretty hard, for multiple reasons.

My first introduction to him was with Hook and Aladdin. Both movies I saw in the theaters when I was a child. In both roles, he was a loving father figure who did everything within his power for his children (including the adopted children like the Lost Boys and Aladdin). There was a deep, sincere love that penetrated through the screen and hit directly to the heart. I would later see him do this in so many other roles. The one that hits just as close to home with me as Hook is Good Will Hunting.

My dad passed away in late October of 2003. A month or so afterwards, I was home sick from work and was laying on the couch watching Good Will Hunting for the very first time. If you haven't seen the movie, he plays a professor at a Boston college who becomes a mentor for the troubled main character, Will Hunting. Not only just a mentor, but a father figure to a youth who happens to be an orphan. There was a part in the movie where both Will (played by Matt Damon) and Robin Williams' characters are having a heart-to-heart and he (Williams) says. "It's okay."

I lost it. Right then and there. Tears flooded my face and it felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Here I was, having just lost my dad, and the father figure is saying it's okay to grieve. It's okay to mourn. It's okay to hurt. It felt like my dad was saying to me that he loved me and it was okay for all of this pain to let out. I cried and I cried hard. Missing him and now being told that that was okay. From that point forward, Good Will Hunting became one of my favorite movies and Robin Williams one of my favorite actors.

Later in life, I learned that this man of happiness was actually a man suffering from deep depression. While he always had that big smile and infectious laugh of his, there was an impenetrable sadness in his eyes-ever present. He became a bit of a role model to me, who also suffers from depression (and has since as long as I can remember). He used his internal torment and turned it into a way to bring joy into the lives of others. That became a new goal for my life and one I am ever striving for. He was also very active in charities (the USO and St. Jude's Hospital are two that immediately come to mind) and genuinely cared for the human race. Strived to make the world a better place in any way that he could. I read an article last night about a girl who was an extra in one of his films who's golf bag had ripped and she had to carry it herself. He was the only one who offered to help and carried her bag for her. He took her suffering and made it his own. That was the kind of guy that he was.

I was talking with my friend Tori last night about how so many comedians out there suffer from deep depression. She though it was ironic, but I have a different view on it. We seek things outside ourselves that we cannot find within ourselves. Nourishment, not only for the body, but for the mind and soul as well. Depression is a cancer of the spirit. Sure, there's good days and bad days (even, at times, it's int remission), but it is always there, draining the life out of those who have it. So those who have deep depression, who cannot find joy within themselves, seek out and strive to create it in others. There is much power in the laughter of others, and if you can bring someone else the happiness they need, you, even for that brief moment, find the peace you so desperately need.

The world mourns his loss, and I feel it is appropriately so. He wasn't just a good actor, he was a good man and a good person. In the end, the depression he battled with for so long finally took its final toll on him. We may never know why, but we can use him as an example of someone who tamed the ever-present darkness. 

If you are struggling with depression and are experiencing suicidal thoughts, I strongly encourage you to reach out. Talk to a friend, a family member, anyone. It's not a "cry for help", it's a call to action. You're not weak for feeling this way and you are not alone. You are never alone. If you cannot reach out to someone you know, call the Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. They are waiting for your call, right now, and will do anything in their power to help you through this. They are here for you. You are not alone.