A Day for Love

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day.  And it seems fitting with what today signifies for me.  

Two years ago today, I stopped taking medication of any kind, which started the spiral into what I consider at times the depths of hell.  My doctor told me it was okay, and wished me well.  What a mistake on his part, but what a blessing in the end for me.  

That day was the start of one of the most tumultuous journeys I could ever imagine.  But the journey has produced some of the most amazing blessings I could ever imagine.  

Two lost jobs, three new doctors, endless medication changes (when I finally got back ON medication), and a hospital stay later; I am able to sit here and celebrate LIFE.  What a powerful gift to possess.  

It has been two long, terrifying years.  But two years that have been more filled with life and love than any of my 30 years of living.  The underlying blessing is that of LOVE.  How amazing and powerful love is.  It can come from your mother, sisters, boyfriend/fiance, and friends old and new.  It can come to you in the form of an embrace, in the form of simple words, in the form of laughter or jokes, and even in the form of a shake of the shoulders to wake you out of the stupor you have fallen into.  Doctors have love, Therapists have love, and even Pharmacists have love.  All love to help you be the person you are meant to be, the person they see that you have lost along the way.  

I think she's coming back… me, I'm coming back.  I can only pray that the "me" I am learning to love so dearly will stick around for years to come.  I hope I do not lose that girl again.  But if I do, for whatever reason, I am confident that she is surrounded by LOVE, and it's one of the most powerful forces in the Universe.  

Today, I celebrate strength, weakness, vulnerability, life, and love.  May those suffering for whatever reason feel something like this before it's too late.  

The Precariousness of Paranoia

Something is bothering me.  I put a silly, self-absorbed comment up on Facebook.  And a friend of mine that I have really, in all frankness lost, put up a comment about ignorance.  I couldn't help feeling that perhaps that was meant for me.  

Ah, the paranoia that lives deep in my psyche.  It's the same one that makes me worry that people are laughing at me on the bus when they're joking around behind me.  Or the same one that makes me think everyone on the street is looking at me funny, and they somehow "know" I am a lesser being, that I am frumpy and smelly and insecure, that something is wrong with me and I have a mental illness, that I'm "crazy."  

I sincerely hope that her post was not about me.  I hurt her in the past.  But for some reason we're still friends on Facebook.  I sometimes feel bad that she has to read my mindless babble when we cannot be good friends anymore.  

Do people really know when they look at me that something is "wrong?"  Do they really see me walking down the street and think to themselves "What a fat slob!"?  Or on the bus, when teenagers are behind me laughing; are they laughing at me?  

One would say "The world does not revolve around YOU, Carrie!"  And they would be right.  But I wonder, does paranoia thrive on insecurity, or self-absorption?  

Mental Health Ponderings

I was chatting with an old friend of mine today about the difficulties people face who have mental health issues and finding and receiving the help that they really need. Both of us have been in positions where we needed some very serious help, yet were continually told to "look here" or "call there" and it was exhausting. And we wondered why it is so hard to find mental health help when you really need it. And don't these people understand that we need "mental" health help, which means that if we are asking by this point we are likely not in a position to be able to call twenty different phone numbers to narrow down what we really need?

And we had a laugh over an analogy but it struck so close to home. If someone has a broken leg, you would not tell them to "walk over there and get a wheelchair," would you? But that's what it feels like is happening when we are in the throws of needing some serious help with mental illness. We say to a professional "I need help, I don't know what I'm going to do anymore…" and the professional tells us to call this person and that person and see if we can get an appointment somewhere and it's usually over a month wait. Why is it, that those of us with mental health issues, are expected to call upon our mental abilities, which we clearly are having trouble with, at times when we have seemingly nothing left? It's just something to think about.

Shout-Outs

There have been a lot of frustrations with my health since my first couple posts. I'd love to say that I'm going to start this again and really get going with it, but I know myself better than that. What I will do, is let myself post when I want to post, and not put unnecessary pressure on myself - because I have enough of that already!

I really would love to put up my first post about living with bipolar disorder. However, I am focusing more on having a lighthearted night with Tony and getting some much needed smiles, laughs, snuggles, and relaxation.

So tonight I would like to give a few shout-outs in keeping with my attempts at maintaining calm.

http://www.BringChange2Mind.org

Recently discovered, yet still not fully explored, I love this website. I've only viewed a few videos, but each one has brought me to tears. The tears come from truly relating to what is being said, what has been felt, suffered, and overcome. The tears come from pain for those IN pain, including myself. And the tears come from the hope and possibility I see in each person as they share their story. I am so thankful that organizations are really taking the initiative to shed some light on mental illness and fight the stigma out there. It's so comforting for people like me, deep in the throws of illness itself, struggling to come out of the darkness, and see there are people out there that are not afraid of you, even when you're terrified of yourself.

I want to make a very special mention of my amazing friend Jody. I met her when I was 17, as an exchange student in Australia. I don't remember much of my exchange anymore, but I know that we became great friends, and when I returned three years later, we picked up right where we left off, and it's been the same ever since, even though I have returned to the States. She has been an amazing source of support, compassion, and unconditional love, despite being half a world away. She is one of the most beautiful, precious people I know, and I feel so lucky to be able to call her a close friend. From the time we were teenagers, she "got me," and has been reminding me to keep my heart full and open despite the struggles I encounter along life's path. I truly believe she is divine in her own way, because she has always been an angel to me. To Jody: you have always known the right things to say and the right times to say them. I thank you for being such a precious gift to me!

A new guilty pleasure of mine is exploring Molton Brown products. I started with the re-charging Black Pepper body wash and lotion. I indulged in some new face cream and eye cream and toner, and a few more scents from them. Although I have always been a diehard Aveda fan, I must admit that Molton Brown is intoxicating when I'm feeling so low and frazzled and am in desperate need of a shower and to smell good!

Glad to have had a great night reconnecting with Tony. I have missed our closeness for some time. Perhaps the two of us can work on a post together about what we've been going through. But "no seriousness" tonight. Hee!

(Jody, this post is dedicated to you… let's hope there are many more to come! Thanks babe, much love to you! xo)