40 days of rain and nothing stops the pain.
Try to hold a candle lit within the strain.
6 am on Monday morning alarms ring out with no warning,
The church bells ring the news, their song of mourning.
People see my smile they think that I'm glad.
Loneliness I guess aint all that bad.
Eyes wide open crying at the brink of night.
Eyes still open crying at the morning light.
40 days of winter see how the year do splinter.
There is not a leaf to see among the frozen timber
6 pm and full night shining hard to see a silver lining,
For cloudless days again you know I'm pining.
People see my smile they say it's not so bad,
Loneliness I guess can sometimes make you glad
Eyes wide open crying at the brink of night.
Eyes still open crying at the morning light
Friday, February 21, 2020
Wednesday, January 29, 2020
Mental Illness and my spirit
Today I'm collecting links about mental illness from members of the LDS General Authorities as well as others.
Maybe they will help someone else.
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media-library/video/mental-health?lang=eng
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2005/10/myths-about-mental-illness?lang=eng
Geaorge Albert Smith had several years of a breakdown and though he pulled through struggled with his illness throughout his time as an apostle and prophet. at the time much was thought of as a nervous breakdown of the body alone which is both partially correct and lacking of the wisdom of modern day medicine and psychology.
https://beginning-depression.blogspot.com/2013/11/cheat-asylum-of-victim-georege-albert.html
https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=&httpsredir=1&article=1056&context=mormonhistory
https://bycommonconsent.com/2012/01/04/mental-illness-and-george-albert-smith/
What does any of this mean? Each case is individual. A blessing or reading the scriptures or even prayer alone can not CURE these disorders. Some will gain a tense and sometimes effective mastery of their outward symptoms. Many will receive great helps from medications and/or counseling.
I personally have tried much. I once believed that I merely needed a blessing. I begged of a former priesthood leader to believe me that my faith would be all I needed to make me whole. He wisely counseled me that while faith would help to hold pieces together when I could not they would not cure me. That the scars of my illness would leave me likely impaired in some ways for years or possibly my life. It was not faithlessness to consult a physician and counseling. That he despite his goodness and merciful nature was not qualified to counsel me in matters of the brain that was so clearly not working correctly.
I had many spiritual experiences of my own after this. I continue to. One, indicated to me that I would always need to stay on medication for the rest of my life and that it would only help to a small degree, but came with several promises. The first was that I could look to the resurrection for a true CURE. Secondly, that I would be given discernment to know what I could handle and what I could not on a day to day basis. third that I would still be challenged by life like others are and I would have that same discernment to know where to put my limited ability to focus.
I struggle, daily. It hurts. I'm am climbing back out of an extremely severe depression today that came upon me slowly over the course of 2018 and 2019. My contributions (of time and effort) to the church are limited severely often. Usually when I give of myself, I give more than I have. During those struggling years I made a big deal to try to uplift our ward with a Christmas program in December of 2018. I was never able to fully recover from that and it contributed to my decline through 2019. I think Church takes the most out of me because it is the most important short of my family.
But I move on. I had a medication change when things hit their worst and it has been a great blessing. It doesn't completely solve the stress of my promptings to get a job since the kids didn't need me at home as much, or the prospect of becoming a grandparent or the loss I felt when my daughter in-law miscarried this past September. But I have listened. I have tried one job in Draper and found it to be difficult to make the commute. I am now working at a local fast food restaurant that is more flexible in schedule and much closer to home. I was led to these changes but at the moment find they take all of my strength. I ease some of that burden by singing with a choir full of friends in Salt Lake. I feel at home there but it also comes with it's emotional burdens of learning the music. thankfully the only one who I am in charge of is me there. It's my job to worry about my part and make it fit with others who learn theirs on their own. So despite it's stresses I can gain more from singing there than most other places at the moment and certainly more than the stress it brings.
Still people look at me and tell me I simply am letting others down or should just cheer up. The more those who do speak this way try to include me the more I have to keep my distance. They don't know the added pain they cause and telling them directly would hurt me even more to do so.
Maybe they will help someone else.
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2013/10/like-a-broken-vessel?lang=eng
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media-library/video/mental-health?lang=eng
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2005/10/myths-about-mental-illness?lang=eng
Geaorge Albert Smith had several years of a breakdown and though he pulled through struggled with his illness throughout his time as an apostle and prophet. at the time much was thought of as a nervous breakdown of the body alone which is both partially correct and lacking of the wisdom of modern day medicine and psychology.
https://beginning-depression.blogspot.com/2013/11/cheat-asylum-of-victim-georege-albert.html
https://digitalcommons.usu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?referer=&httpsredir=1&article=1056&context=mormonhistory
https://bycommonconsent.com/2012/01/04/mental-illness-and-george-albert-smith/
What does any of this mean? Each case is individual. A blessing or reading the scriptures or even prayer alone can not CURE these disorders. Some will gain a tense and sometimes effective mastery of their outward symptoms. Many will receive great helps from medications and/or counseling.
I personally have tried much. I once believed that I merely needed a blessing. I begged of a former priesthood leader to believe me that my faith would be all I needed to make me whole. He wisely counseled me that while faith would help to hold pieces together when I could not they would not cure me. That the scars of my illness would leave me likely impaired in some ways for years or possibly my life. It was not faithlessness to consult a physician and counseling. That he despite his goodness and merciful nature was not qualified to counsel me in matters of the brain that was so clearly not working correctly.
I had many spiritual experiences of my own after this. I continue to. One, indicated to me that I would always need to stay on medication for the rest of my life and that it would only help to a small degree, but came with several promises. The first was that I could look to the resurrection for a true CURE. Secondly, that I would be given discernment to know what I could handle and what I could not on a day to day basis. third that I would still be challenged by life like others are and I would have that same discernment to know where to put my limited ability to focus.
I struggle, daily. It hurts. I'm am climbing back out of an extremely severe depression today that came upon me slowly over the course of 2018 and 2019. My contributions (of time and effort) to the church are limited severely often. Usually when I give of myself, I give more than I have. During those struggling years I made a big deal to try to uplift our ward with a Christmas program in December of 2018. I was never able to fully recover from that and it contributed to my decline through 2019. I think Church takes the most out of me because it is the most important short of my family.
But I move on. I had a medication change when things hit their worst and it has been a great blessing. It doesn't completely solve the stress of my promptings to get a job since the kids didn't need me at home as much, or the prospect of becoming a grandparent or the loss I felt when my daughter in-law miscarried this past September. But I have listened. I have tried one job in Draper and found it to be difficult to make the commute. I am now working at a local fast food restaurant that is more flexible in schedule and much closer to home. I was led to these changes but at the moment find they take all of my strength. I ease some of that burden by singing with a choir full of friends in Salt Lake. I feel at home there but it also comes with it's emotional burdens of learning the music. thankfully the only one who I am in charge of is me there. It's my job to worry about my part and make it fit with others who learn theirs on their own. So despite it's stresses I can gain more from singing there than most other places at the moment and certainly more than the stress it brings.
Still people look at me and tell me I simply am letting others down or should just cheer up. The more those who do speak this way try to include me the more I have to keep my distance. They don't know the added pain they cause and telling them directly would hurt me even more to do so.
Sunday, October 27, 2019
When You're Lying Next To Me
When the world is just too big for me
And my whole life just seems out of place
My perspective changes and I don't seem so small
When I can see the smile on your face.
Sometimes I'm just anxious about everything
And my heart beats to hard for my chest.
But I pick up the pieces at the touch of your hand
Because you know how to calm me the best
It all seems so unfocused
Engulfed by fog so blinding
And hopelessly I stumble
While my whole world's unwinding.
But you can always find me there
And you can always make me see.
My whole world makes sense again
When you're lying next to me.
I never do feel enough for you
And I wish that I could be much more
And then I hear you say my name
Suddenly I'm the man you fell for.
It all seems so unfocused
Engulfed by fog so blinding
And hopelessly I stumble
While my whole world's unwinding.
But you can always find me there
And you can always make me see.
My whole world makes sense again
When you're lying next to me.
And my whole life just seems out of place
My perspective changes and I don't seem so small
When I can see the smile on your face.
Sometimes I'm just anxious about everything
And my heart beats to hard for my chest.
But I pick up the pieces at the touch of your hand
Because you know how to calm me the best
It all seems so unfocused
Engulfed by fog so blinding
And hopelessly I stumble
While my whole world's unwinding.
But you can always find me there
And you can always make me see.
My whole world makes sense again
When you're lying next to me.
I never do feel enough for you
And I wish that I could be much more
And then I hear you say my name
Suddenly I'm the man you fell for.
It all seems so unfocused
Engulfed by fog so blinding
And hopelessly I stumble
While my whole world's unwinding.
But you can always find me there
And you can always make me see.
My whole world makes sense again
When you're lying next to me.
Underground
When morning falls and darkness breaks I see through hooded eyes.
Pierce the brightening blackness stilled and so the sunlight lies.
A cut can heal the deepest wound
I hope to lie asleep here soon
If I sigh out loud no one can hear my cries
I'm filled with painful silence that is drowning out my tears.
The days stretch on and my friend, I sense the shortened years.
I dread that nothing hears my song
That no one felt it all along
The shadows on the wall can't reach my ears.
Breaking down....
I'm just a clown....
I can't see the eatth my feet tread on
Chain me down....
Underground....
Light the fires behind the waning dawn.
Crashing soft the daybreak pulls me from my bed.
The velvet touch of sunlight burns my head.
Crying out I beg for peace.
Never can I feel release.
The prison of my freedom drives my dread.
Pierce the brightening blackness stilled and so the sunlight lies.
A cut can heal the deepest wound
I hope to lie asleep here soon
If I sigh out loud no one can hear my cries
I'm filled with painful silence that is drowning out my tears.
The days stretch on and my friend, I sense the shortened years.
I dread that nothing hears my song
That no one felt it all along
The shadows on the wall can't reach my ears.
Breaking down....
I'm just a clown....
I can't see the eatth my feet tread on
Chain me down....
Underground....
Light the fires behind the waning dawn.
Crashing soft the daybreak pulls me from my bed.
The velvet touch of sunlight burns my head.
Crying out I beg for peace.
Never can I feel release.
The prison of my freedom drives my dread.
Saturday, October 12, 2019
Christmas Lost
I used to listen to Christmas music all year. It annoys people but is an especially good thing for a musician to be able to do. Any of you who hate hearing the music "early" should understand that if the people you depend on to bring that spirit,in that little window of time you've set aside to enjoy it, don't practice and prepare for months, often beginning to put ideas together throughout the year, then you won't have it.
I have never in the past dreaded either the sacred or the secular aspects of the holiday. They have their little niches and have always brought enjoyment.
For the first year in my entire life, I don't want Christmas to come. Despite mental illness I have always still enjoyed Christmas. I'm only partially sure of why. Christmas pressure has always been there but the joy I get from it always managed to make the pressure worth it. This year the same pressures are there but the joy disappeared. It's not even Halloween and I am dreading the holiday season.
There are issues in my family that make me feel guilty for even thinking of trying to celebrate.
Singing.... If I sing how I want then I let one group down but if I help the other group then I will feel like the music is drudgery. No matter the choice, I feel guilty already.
I feel pulled. Spread out so thin that the winter winds will simply blow me away.
Christmas saved me in years past but this year it might finish me off.
I remember memorizing the scriptures that the angel spoke to the shepherds. It was a proud moment to deliver them boldly in our family pageants. Wrapped in a white sheet.
I remember the first year I sang with the Salt Lake Vocal Artists and how good it felt to sing such beautiful music with strong singers that only needed me to worry about doing my part. I didn't have to worry about anyone else's. Just mine and somehow the combination of everyone doing that made such beauty and warmth. No pressure. And each if us understood the work we did and didn't take each other for granted.
Now those days are gone away. Each entreaty to sing says, "Come fill our hours with music." "Since it's easy for you it will be easy for you to put it all together." Neither is true.
I haven't been able to pull everyone else together and help them make music for quite some time. I don't have it in me to form groups and motivate people to do it. I was never great at that. But now, it drags, it hurts. Not just emotionally but physically. It makes me sick to try to do, it makes me hurt, it causes migraines, it tears me into pieces and those float away on the winter wind as well.
This has sucked all of my energy to plan the holidays for my family. By now I usually have several gifts for each of my kids and especially my wife. Things that I knew would make them feel good to get. I have one thing. And I can't picture the smile on the receiver's face like usual.
Traditions already feel like a millstone chained to my neck.
On a year like this I'd be gearing up for a new Star Wars movie. To see it with my family in December. To laugh and talk about what we liked about it as we come out of the theater. It doesn't hold magic for me. I'm supposed to be things. I don't know how I can be those things. People say if you just try to not be broken you won't be. It doesn't help and only makes me feel like garbage.
So keep Christmas from coming. Let it go away this year
I have never in the past dreaded either the sacred or the secular aspects of the holiday. They have their little niches and have always brought enjoyment.
For the first year in my entire life, I don't want Christmas to come. Despite mental illness I have always still enjoyed Christmas. I'm only partially sure of why. Christmas pressure has always been there but the joy I get from it always managed to make the pressure worth it. This year the same pressures are there but the joy disappeared. It's not even Halloween and I am dreading the holiday season.
There are issues in my family that make me feel guilty for even thinking of trying to celebrate.
Singing.... If I sing how I want then I let one group down but if I help the other group then I will feel like the music is drudgery. No matter the choice, I feel guilty already.
I feel pulled. Spread out so thin that the winter winds will simply blow me away.
Christmas saved me in years past but this year it might finish me off.
I remember memorizing the scriptures that the angel spoke to the shepherds. It was a proud moment to deliver them boldly in our family pageants. Wrapped in a white sheet.
I remember the first year I sang with the Salt Lake Vocal Artists and how good it felt to sing such beautiful music with strong singers that only needed me to worry about doing my part. I didn't have to worry about anyone else's. Just mine and somehow the combination of everyone doing that made such beauty and warmth. No pressure. And each if us understood the work we did and didn't take each other for granted.
Now those days are gone away. Each entreaty to sing says, "Come fill our hours with music." "Since it's easy for you it will be easy for you to put it all together." Neither is true.
I haven't been able to pull everyone else together and help them make music for quite some time. I don't have it in me to form groups and motivate people to do it. I was never great at that. But now, it drags, it hurts. Not just emotionally but physically. It makes me sick to try to do, it makes me hurt, it causes migraines, it tears me into pieces and those float away on the winter wind as well.
This has sucked all of my energy to plan the holidays for my family. By now I usually have several gifts for each of my kids and especially my wife. Things that I knew would make them feel good to get. I have one thing. And I can't picture the smile on the receiver's face like usual.
Traditions already feel like a millstone chained to my neck.
On a year like this I'd be gearing up for a new Star Wars movie. To see it with my family in December. To laugh and talk about what we liked about it as we come out of the theater. It doesn't hold magic for me. I'm supposed to be things. I don't know how I can be those things. People say if you just try to not be broken you won't be. It doesn't help and only makes me feel like garbage.
So keep Christmas from coming. Let it go away this year
Saturday, July 27, 2019
Love, Trust, Darkness
Love is trust. It's trusting those you love to try not to hurt you and that when they do (people aren't perfect) that working through it is worth it. These people we trust have the ability to cut us the deepest.
In the strangest place I found this explained perfectly. In Season 2 of the Netflix series "Daredevil" they introduced The Punisher, who was a vigilante who killed the guilty in his war on crime. He'd lost his family due to gang violence and though most of his soul was corrupted by this he gave advice to a character who was worried about being hurt in a relationship. (Language warning)
"People that get inside you and and and tear you apart, and make you feel like you're never gonna recover. Shit. I'd I I would chop my arm off right here, in this restaurant, just to feel that one more time for my wife. My old lady, she didn't just break my heart. She She'd rip it out, she'd tear it apart, she'd step on that shit, feed it to a dog. I mean, she was ruthless. She brought the pain. But she'll never hurt me again. You see, I'll never feel that. You sit here and you're all confused about this thing, but you have it. You have everything. So, hold on to it. Use two hands and never let go."
Pain is part of the love. It's unintentional to be sure for the most part (or should be) but it comes from putting complete trust in an imperfect being.
I'm not advocating staying with someone abusive either. Only you can determine if your situation is just natural consequence of love and trust or if it is deliberate and abusive.
Segueing rather clumsily to depression or anxiety (or other mental ilness). Trusting comes with a deeper price. Loving comes with a heavier toll. Letting people in may mean less loneliness but it also invites deeper wounds to an already septic mind.
“The only thing more exhausting than being depressed is pretending that you’re not.” —Anonymous, Twitter
“The broken will always be able to love harder than most because once you’ve been in the dark, you learn to appreciate everything that shines.” —Anonymous, Twitter
Putting yourself out there to more people means giving the keys to your pain to more people. It's overwhelming. It's exhausting. It hurts deep when they hurt you. Some figure out how to interact and keep their barriers intact. Making only superficial connections and holding their few true friends/family/spouses/etc. close.
I don't do that very well. I invest in people too quickly because I think that's the mask that people want to see. Especially among groups that I can tell myself logically that I'm safe. Volunteer groups, church, etc. I make the effort to be that person, to be useful, I usually try too hard to fit in (often in an annoying way). Quickly, I become overwhelmed. My scant energy reserves are depleted. I begin to see the look in people's eyes that I'm annoying them by trying too hard or I let them down in some way. Then I realize that I'm giving away energy and it's coming from the reserves that are intended for my close trusted circle. You see I've always had a hard time with the saying, "The more love you give, the more you have." I don't have an endless supply.
So then it comes, the question, "Why aren't you participating in (insert activity or responsibility here)." When I try to say, that it's too much for me then comes the advice. You'll have plenty of energy for it if you try, or if you pray more or if you exercise more. Usually the advice comes without even asking if I already do these things. Then guilt is added, "You're needed here. We miss your spirit, or your voice, or your thoughts."
Without me even giving the key the lock has been picked and my pain is being poked at. It's a grizzly bear and now people are jabbing it with sticks trying to get it to leave me alone, thinking they are helping and I'm caught between the bear and the people. I'm always the first casualty as I'm consumed and then often the bear is not satisfied and goes for the others.
The beast that is mental illness isn't a choice. It doesn't have a cure. It's a chronic disease. Slowly rotting parts of your mind away as you struggle to hold it at bay. Faith can help cope and even strengthen parts of your mind but you can no more expect your God to "cure" it than my father could expect God to spontaneously regrow his amputated legs.
So, back to trust. If you're part of that small group for someone, know that makes you special. They know you'll let them down, they'll think they're always letting you down. They choose to make you worth it. For whatever reason, your heart is worth the pain. Don't feel bad if you're not in someone who is struggling 's circle either. They're trying to keep their circle small and close. You may even eventually find a spot there. A person with a broken mind still wants to not be lonely but they know they can only hold a few hearts close without risking losing it all. Be available but don't force your way in.
People are imperfect. Even if they're not broken.
Shattered
Shattered
Picking up the pieces once again
From the best laid plans of this old man
I used to think I could do anything.
Shattered shards they're scattered cross the floor
Leave the room behind and lock the door
Out of sight and mind I can't feel the sting.
I was always born to be broken
Never was made to be whole
Maybe I'm just meant to be frozen
Fractured shadows deep in my soul
Breaking, Shattered,
Bleeding, scattered....
Shattered, woah... I'm shattered
Pulling out a paper one more time
Messages of hope I'm disinclined
I never know just quite what to say.
Slanted spooks of fantasies I've lost
Chasing dreams I never knew the cost
Passing purposes I just can't pay.
I was always born to be broken
Never was made to be whole
Maybe I'm just meant to be frozen
Fractured shadows deep in my soul
Breaking, Shattered,
Bleeding, scattered....
Shattered, woah... I'm shattered
Matching up the pieces once again
From the puzzled plans of this old man
Forever I'm afraid I'll feel the sting.
Shattered shards still scattered cross the floor
By this time you'd think I knew the score
Holding out for what tomorrow brings.
I was always born to be broken
Never was made to be whole
Maybe I'm just meant to be frozen
Fractured shadows deep in my soul
Breaking, Shattered,
Bleeding, scattered....
Shattered, woah... I'm shattered
I was always born to be broken
Never was made to be whole
Shattered, woah... I'm shattered
7-27-2019
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