I often remember the conversations I had and the people I met in my two hospital stays. The first stay there was a lady that was sort of a mother figure to me. I was a young scared 19 year old who had just spent two or three days on a closed unit, an experience I would wish upon no person and fills my heart with sadness for those with so much greater difficulty than myself. I was on an adult unit with various levels or privilege, as I was fresh from the closed unit, I was not allowed to go down stairs for meals or recreation and was somewhat more closely monitored.
I think Debby (I will call her Debby for confidentiality), saw that I was afraid and not exactly mentally stable, not just from the attempted suicide and the 3 days in a closed unit, but also from the shock of recognizing there was something more permanently wrong with me. She took me under her wing and always looked out for me. She was there for a lot longer than me for ECT therapy. This affected her moods and at times after the therapy was not to be found. Overall though, she looked out for me. We talked a lot. We ate together and sat together at group therapies. She told me much of her life story. I saw the loving, nurturing person she was but what she told me was of someone very different. She was an excessive alcoholic and had lost pretty much everything that she loved. It had cost her her job, her church, and most of all, her relationship with her two daughters. She showed me scars on her arms from dark nights of self hate and loneliness. It was hard for me to comprehend how someone so loving and nurturing as this woman, who had once been a school teacher and an organist in her church, could really be the same as the person she told me about. The reason I've never turned to alcohol to cope is because of her. Yes, my religious upbringing instilled a contempt for alcohol, but in those dark days I didn't much remember my religious upbringing, I just wanted relief. I couldn't ever get out of my head though that Debby looked me in the eyes one day and grabbing my arm firmly said, "Promise me you will never try alcohol. Promise me. It has ruined my life. It has taken everything I love and have worked for in life." I was so startled by the firmness of her voice that it still sends chills through my body. When it was finally time for me to go she sent me on my way with a picture of her and her dog. I loved that lady. I never knew her last name so I have no way of knowing where or how she is today. That was 10 or so years ago. I thank God everyday though, for putting her in my path.
There were others. A mom who with tears in her eyes explained that her kids had been taken away because in a moment of absolute mental fallout she had sat in her car with the engine on in the garage and the kids in the back seat. You could see she loved her kids more than anything. You could also see that she felt like it was the best option for her, at the time. Let me quickly explain that the point isn't that she shouldn't have looked for help sooner or done something else, but rather that someone who loved someone so precious as her children more than anything in the world. That she could be in so much pain in her head that ending their life along with her own seemed not only like a good idea but the right idea. This is how people feel in moments of crisis. It is difficult to reason at that point, and often times one's reasoning has been persuaded to align with the emotional mind, that just wants relief. I met another man with a similar upbringing to my own who had a back injury and started a pain pill addiction. He told me how much his life had been torn apart by choices he had made and how he yearned to right things with his young wife and his little daughter.
There are lots of stories and lots of people I think about. I wonder how they are doing and I wonder if they found the strength to continue. I often wondered what I would say to them now that I couldn't say to them then. How could I lend them support and strength from the life I've now lived? I've always had what I call a martyrdom complex. My favorite pioneer story, even as a kid was of the young men who carried all the people across the ice cold river to safety. I've always wanted to lend my support to others, even at the expense of my own strength. It's not really anything I try to do, it's just who I am, and so I yearn and ache often for those I see in distress and need.
What do you say to those people?
I've said a lot in previous posts about holding on and leaning on the support of others, but what I've failed to acknowledge to this point is the most important crutch on which we all lean, mentally ill or not. That is our Savior Jesus Christ.
I've wrestled with how to approach this subject. I am the first to explain that when I felt like I was getting little back from God early on in my illness, after desperately trying to do all I felt I should to be worthy of His support, I turned my back on my Savior. Since then it's been a slow road back. Fortunately, the Lord doesn't just leave it to me to find Him. I would like to tell you of a few of the ways He has found me:
A brother who picked me up at the airport on a lay-over after coming home sick from my mission and brought PF Changs and talk by Elder Holland.
An Aunt and Uncle who gave me shelter, physically and emotionally, when my parents were unable.
Old friends who reached out from high school and supported me in times of need.
A single Aunt who opened her door to a distressed young man barely hanging on with a bloody arm.
Parents who called often and prayed more often even when they were on the other side of the world.
An Uncle who asked me to help coach 6th graders in basketball, not knowing the distraction kept my mind from much darker places.
The sister who opened a knock at the front door early in the morning, on more than one occasion, to find a brother had driven through the night to her house.
Various friends in Australia, that got me out of the house when it would have been so easy to isolate.
A priesthood leader who denied my refusals for a Priesthood blessing and gave me one anyways despite my protests of a lack of faith.
That same man who called me the next day and told me the most sacred thing that I can't repeat but that hit me so hard, I knew that Jesus Christ really did know me and my suffering.
A doctor that was filling in for the one I was scheduled to meet with but then became one of my closest friends and allies in this battle.
A brother who related his dealings with the loss of a spouse to cancer and how to deal with affliction.
A woman on a flight to Australia who talked about her son with bipolar disorder for 3 plus hours and I was able to comfort her.
An Aunt who asked if I could help a friend of hers through a difficult time with her son and his own battle with mental illness.
The fact that in two attempts on my own life, the Lord spared me, and the second time was definitely divine intervention.
A lady that on a chance sit down visit, I could see the same mental anguish that had driven me over the edge and after a candid conversation broke down to me with the pain in her heart and soul.
A wife who not only married me but deals with some crazy crap.
The son that I used to go in and hold and rock on suicidal nights when I had a hard time remembering what I wanted to live for. I couldn't forget what I was holding there in my hands.
There are a lot more of these experiences and people. I've lost some of them because they weren't recorded but the point is that, especially in hindsight, I see how my Savior was there for me all along the way. Most of the time he provided someone for me and at the deepest darkest time of my life he sent someone specifically to tell and remind me of His love. You can choose to believe or see this or not. It can be a lot of coincidence or it can be divine direction.
Peace I leave with you, my
This scripture has helped me a lot in dark times. It's one I think most people just know off the top of their head. The previous verse talks about the Holy Spirit but I think just looking at this individually, I've felt the Lord tell me that it's not just the spirit I'll give you, because ironically with mental illness sometimes it's next to impossible to feel the spirit no matter how hard you try. I feel like the Lord told me through this that I will be there to lift you up and support you. When I can't be there I will send someone in my stead. If they fail to listen and come, I will be there.
I feel like Peace is such an appropriate word because it is really what you seek so desperately when you struggle with mental illness. The barrage of emotional distress is incessant, at times and all the things you do are for relief. The relief that I keep referring to is really an assemblance of peace. When I read that verse I hear the Lord saying, this isn't going to be an easy fix. The world would say there is a pill that will fix it but this isn't going to be that easy, but I will give you relief. It may be just enough to put down the knife or gun. It may be just enough to call someone you love instead of act impulsively, but if you will come to me, I will give you a fraction of peace, but you have to believe it. You have to believe that I can ease your troubles better than the resolutions of your own mind.
In the moments of darkness it is always hard to make the right decision. Perhaps a post for another day, but that's why I think we can never judge anyone who hasn't been able to find that hope when in the darkness. If you have ever known the emotional state or fragility of someone who takes that step, you would know that they are not cowards. They are not selfish and the Lord will be there to embrace them and help them be who they need to be for Him. There are very few people who needs the Lord's embrace more than them. There suffering is one that should never be judged, except by The Lord.
The Lord is the most important support anyone can have in dealing with any difficulty. If it's hard to see Him there with us when we are in the crucible, then perhaps we can have the strength to recollect when we have seen Him in our life in the past. He is our Savior, and He is bound to us. He is perfect and will not waiver. It is up to us to find the strength amidst the affliction to find Him. I assure you, it doesn't take much to find Him. We just have to look.
I spent the better part of my first 3 years not looking to the Lord for support. I've spent the better part of last 8 looking to Him for strength. I sometimes lean on my own understanding and strength at times and then I find it isn't enough and come back to the Lord. If you can learn to be smarter than me and always look with eye single to the Lord than He will support you. He will lift you up. Don't get me wrong, He's still going to expect you to carry your own weight, and with mental illness that's a heavy sack, but you can "let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."
Try it a few years and then look back. I think you'll be astonished, humbled and filled with gratitude by the results. I know I am everyday.
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