Who Do You Turn To?

Lean on me when you’re not strong

And I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on

For it won’t be long

‘Til I’m gonna need someone to lean on

                                                                             Bill Withers

 How many times? Too many to count. Too often. Too alone. Too broken.

How many times in the past have I not reached out when I needed support? I do not count. Counting makes no sense. I would count to one. One. The one time that has lasted years. Minor breaks in the clouds of isolation came and went. Never enough light, never long enough to give me a chance to find a voice, the words or to put my head up and wonder what the Hell am I doing.

When some semblance of normalcy fell upon me, I asked is there any support out in the atmosphere. Is there any reason to break free from the stagnancy of isolation? How? Where?

Always the answer in my fogged mind was NO. A flat line, monotone, hopeless NO. A definitive NO. Exclamation point. Pointe finale.

All those years. I did not want to bother others. I did not know who I could call on. I did not know if anyone would understand what was happening or care at all.

All that wasted time.

No doubt this is not a surprising story. Nothing new. All too common.

Isolation, despairing in the loneliest place imaginable. Alive in a purgatory. Absolute blank, nothing.

It’s a painful truth for so many of us living with mental illness. It’s hard to explain when asked. Why do we isolate ourselves when it is plain that we have people, maybe one special person, in our life who are willing to compassionately help, whisper that better times are coming and, if we need, take us to seek medical assistance?

Even in the thralls of the deepest depression—so deep that our world is a small corner of the bed, covered in whatever brings the most darkness. A place we know is not healthy but cannot do anything to overcome the heaviness of terrible aloneness. Somewhere, perhaps hidden deep in our minds, we do know this.

We just cannot find the momentum to change the inertia of isolation.

Wait though. This post has a bright light. A positive ending.

Lately, I have been going to a support group for people living with mental disorders. I have thought about doing this before but always found a reason not to get in that door. Meet these people. I did not want to take the chance of breaking down in front or strangers.

Finally I went.

I found people who understand. I found empathy and openness. Even from people who were hurting as much as I was during my worst times.

I also learned that I could return this.

I have written about this before but not as concretely. I believe this message is so vital in cannot be repeated enough.

Taking a chance—me, you, all of us—reaching out to someone, to something or place, calls on our courage, perhaps our desperation.

Maybe it is about reaching a bottom so profound that we know it has to end one way or another.

I chose the way of the still beating heart. To look up rather than take the final step. I hope with all my spirit that all of us can do the same.

How much will this group and others who I am planning to rely on help? It is a question not worth posing or answering. It is not the time. Hopefully, it will never be the time.

It is time to open ourselves to the possibility of hope. People and groups are out there, offering a shoulder, a hand, an ear to help us stand strong. We can help each other to live better lives.

It is the ultimate gesture of caring.

Lean on me. I promise to be what you need and to open my heart.

It won’t be long ‘til I’ll need someone to lean on. I hope it will be my cyber friends, the support group I have found, friends and family.

I am sure this will happen if I simply gather the strength to call out. I hope I will.

I am reassured.

Bill Withers in concert http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Wpof8s5ZTg

 

Peace and love, Terry

Music and Inspiration

Recently the owner and operator and creative force behind The Bipolar Place posted a song by Daft Punk that he enjoys but apparently can’t dance to. Oh well. We’re not all born to be a dancer but to stand on the sidelines, appreciating the music.

His post seemed to resonate with some folks and I was surely one of those people. A short explanation.

From an early age music has been my sanctuary. It helped endure rough patches in my childhood, inspired me, touched my emotions and pulled me out of grim reality of the day.

It still does, deeply

So I got to thinking.

I would like to invite all and anyone to post up songs that are meaningful in some way. Old, new, strange, popular. Doesn’t make a difference to me. The music doesn’t have to touch on mental illness, just music that touches you and has some relevance to your life.

I look forward to your responses. I hope I get some. If I get enough, I’ll gather them somewhere so we can all get a different understanding of who we all are.

I’ll start. A song by Pearl Jam – Alive. Enjoy and I hope I will enjoy yours. Sounds fair.

And if the response is less than I would hope, I’ll just keep adding songs to my own posts.

peace and love to all.

 

Lean On Us

Hi, it’s me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qb5w3pGhhQ4&feature=youtu.be

What About a Mental Health Day?

Today is Canada Day. Our national day of celebration when in 1867 the seeds of Canada were planted.  We celebrate things like the discovery of penicillin, the heroic efforts of Canadians in war and the Canada Arm. We celebrate Canadian Prime Minister Lester B. Pearson who came up with the idea of United Nations Peacekeepers. We take pride in our growing multiculturalism.

But we don’t celebrate the achievements of the many Canadians with a mental illness. I think we should.

We should put faces on mental illness and let’s use famous faces. They lend weight and inspiration, whether we like it or not. Our society worships the famous so why not use their celebrity to call attention to the fact that most people with mental illness function and succeed. Famous people help normalise mental illness when they speak out.

Well known Canadians who live with mental illness is eye opening, wide-ranging and perhaps surprising.

Jim Carrey, and his elastic face, has struggled with depression and the effects of medication.

Robert Munsch, author of wonderful children’s stories says this.

“Several years ago I was diagnosed as obsessive-compulsive and manic-depressive. Those challenges have led me to make some big mistakes. I have worked hard to overcome my problems, and I have done my best. I have attended twelve-step recovery meetings for more than 25 years.

My mental health and addiction problems are not a secret to my friends and family. They have been a big support to me over the years, and I would not have been able to do this without their love and understanding.”

In fact, I have a number of his books memorized not because I admire his honesty but because my kids loved them.

Matthew Good, one of Canada’s best musicians, is open about bipolar disorder. Some songs from his album Hospital Music were written while he was in a psychiatric ward.

And I could go on.

A national day can’t hurt and could start a national conversation. Mental illness is still misunderstood. Too often it’s hidden away—by celebrities and ordinary folks.

The stigma remains, resistant to change.

I propose a mental illness day officially declared by the government to create an open discussion, reduce misunderstanding and perhaps increase research and care.

Call me crazy, and some have, but this makes sense. We have Family Day, Flag Day, Heritage Day and Victoria Day (that creates a May long weekend) so why not. A mental health week exists but hardly noticed and at best given lip service or ignored.

A Mental Health Day (of mental illness if you prefer) may be a symbolic gesture but it could be also kick start awareness. Why should anyone reject this idea?

I call on the governments of Canada, federal and provincial, to get engaged, show some leadership and put mental illness on the national agenda.

It’s the least they can do.

Peace and love.    

Wind in Heart

The wind in my heart. That refreshing breeze that sweeps away the anguish, hurt and confusion. And like the eye of the hurricane, you find yourself in a calm place amid the whirling world your mind can be.

Sure, I might be pulled into the swirl of hurricane winds but for now I enjoy the calm and, I suppose, the stability.

The days of struggle. They’ve come to an end, which in hindsight, after the maelstrom, is the natural turn of events in the life of one who has bipolar.

I don’t say this with much confidence though. However, I do take solace in today. I think that I’m making progress in accepting each day as it. Moreover, I want to really take charge of bipolar disorder, to hold the reins and steer my own direction.

I recently read an interview with Lama Yeshe on Buddhism and mental illness. He said, “There’s no way you can understand your own mental problems without your becoming your own psychologist. It’s impossible.” I believe he is right. We each have this responsibility.”

Even in the darkest moments or the soaring highs, I think we have this ability. We may not know it. We may need help to find it. We may need time to understand it and put it in use. But I think it’s there, We can act as our own psychologist or psychiatrist, and take power over our disease.

In writing this, I am not in any way dismissing or undermining the value and need of a good psychiatrist and proper medication. The vital importance of support. Knowing that when we are overwhelmed we can reach out and someone will be there.

I’m saying that we can take charge and still work in concert with medical expertise for support.

After the struggling and frightening period I went through, I wasn’t able to do this. I have not grasped he concept fully nor do I yet have the tools. I want to develop and learn though.

Today is a good day. I’m thankful for these moments.

I’m also thankfully, incredibly so, that when I believed I had nowhere to turn, I found the help I was searching for. Not permanent but what I needed to get through.

Where I live, Ottawa, the capital of Canada, there is an excellent support. A high-quality hospital only dealing with mental illness populated by fine and dedicated doctors, nurses, social workers to name a few. Having had stays in this hospital, the level of care and knowledge is astounding.

Also, two or three crisis lines are available 24 hours a day. In the lonely and desperate hours of the morning, when all I wanted was more darkness, I somehow thought of these. Perhaps I paid attention to numbers lying on the table within my reach.

More importantly, I called.

In the past, I had hesitated or even avoided these services. My bias? Not wanting to admit to needing crucial help? Yes to both.

What I found on the other end of the line – non-judgmental support and understanding. Advice and hope.  A tender ear, reassuring voice.

The crisis line worker eventually decided to send help to my home despite the hour. A fellow came and simply sat with me a while. He convinced me that he should call for medical help. I spent two days in hospital. It was the right place for me to be.

The final outcome? Saviour? Realizing I wasn’t alone in the bleakness? Help just a call away?

All of these.

I’m grateful.

 

Hope and love to all

Terry