Saving Lives

It's not enough to merely save people from death. We can save lives but if the quality of that life is not worth it to them then what is the point?

Before my brothers passing I had recently connected with two friends from high school, that are sisters, and had been two of those people that you just get along easily with, connect with, and will always cherish. After my brothers passing the younger of two tactfully asked "how."

As it turned out my gracious friends lost there dad about six years ago, he also "took his own life"... My friends shared with me about him. I am so appreciative of their compassion and willingness to share. He'd hit a point of complete madness. He was no longer himself or at least not the man that they all knew and loved. Why? He'd been OK for so long. He'd been an amazing dad, a kind and generous person. Brilliant even. but then it all started to fall apart and who knows if he got help in time. Who knows if he was even taking the "help" that he was being given. All the same he was going and then he was gone. They all tried to help him and at times even tried to save his life but those closest to him knew that it was not their life to save. They knew that merely keeping him alive was not saving him. They had already lost him... Where did he go?
Did he just give up on fighting? Had is adaptive practices been changed to the point of demise? Are mental disorders/illness's degenerative? Was it merely a matter of time? Obviously there is no sufficient nor satisfactory answer to these questions, especially to his family, he is gone.

I have another friend, with whom I was fortunate enough to work with this last year. Her father passed away a month before my brother. At one point, when I was struggling a bit at work, I asked her how she was doing and if she felt this way or that. She was compassionately willing to talk. Our brief conversation led her to tell me that it was actually not the first father she had lost (although I must tell you, as evidence of her compassion, it was not her loosing two fathers that brought up the subject but how she felt so bad for her mother because this was her second husband to loose).
As it turned out, her biological father committed suicide when she was very young. Her father was about the age of my brother. I was amazed and so impressed with my friend and her graciousness in coping and sharing. I asked her what he was like. She explained that he was in the military. He loved to work out He even loved life often. He was kind and loving and not the type of person you might expect this from, though he did struggle with depression from time to time.

I remember thinking how both of these men sounded similar to my brother. I have often thought that if he had only gotten married and had a family of his own this would not have happened. But after speaking with these two friends about their own fathers I have realized that it is not the case. Family does not cure some one of mental illness and it does not save one from this fate. Family can do a lot for a person including improving their quality of life but in they end that alone would not have saved my brother, no matter how much they may have loved each other. There is so much more to the story here.

One thing I would like to point out is that I don't believe that such interactions and the many other bizarre coincidences are coincidences at all. I am soooo thankful that wonderful people were so conveniently lined up for me! Thank you so much my friends for sharing and for wanting to help and make a difference in this crazy mixed up world we live in!

But I will also re-iterate: keeping some one breathing is not merely enough. We have a responsibility to each other to do more and be more. And yet likewise, when it is someones time to go, no matter how painful or hard it is to understand, then it is time to let them go and love them just as well.

update

So I suppose an update is in order as an increase back up to 10mgs seems to make all the difference in the world. Though I also wonder if the lovely female cycle also plays a role in some of my intensities. But I have been feeling quite a bit better and watched two thought provoking movies without becoming overly "disturbed," which always seems to be a good gauge.
Though even jumping a mere 5 mgs in the nortryptaline has caused a slight increase in the skin issues that really annoy me. I have determined it is worth the annoyance and I'll try what I can to fix that without going off of anything as it is apparent I still "need" it.
But again Life is very good and I love to feel level and "normal." However, I also think it still important, for me, to (at least at times) remember how it is to feel and be on the edge of sanity. It is nice to think about how far I have come and it is probably best to realize that it I will likely push the limits of reality again. But I will be prepared and hopefully this blog and my friends can once again keep me from going completely overt the edge or bring me back if I do.

Not today, not ever!

I don't feel much like writing lately. Don't feel much like talking to anyone, checking my e-mail, or writing to friends. I know that is not always a bad thing, and it is not such a bad thing for me to give the old computer a break (actually it's quite new). But lately I don't know that it is such a good thing.
I really don't feel like writing right now in fact, which is exactly why I decided to do it anyway.
Lately my fuse is shorter then I think it should be. I am obsessing a bit more and feel less inclined to be responsible... In fact the other day I realized that I am a bit impulsive. I thought I was "above" that because I am not impulsively doing off the wall horrible things... Just taking walks at odd hours in the night and angrily telling houses with there lights on to go to bed. Beating up a few trees and lurking in shadows. Plus I am not impulsive because I am not out whore'n it up or shooting up, I don't even want to do those types of things. And all of my impulsive purchases and self directed medication changes are carefully thought out usually with a grand plan and a final leap of faith. But never with out adequate obsessing!
And then there is the idea of right and wrong. Is there really such a thing. And maybe it is actually wrong for me to stick around (or at least more wrong). Maybe my kids really would be better off with an un-medicated mom who just goes with it...which usually means running away. Maybe it is better for some moms to abandon their kids over medication or alternatives... Whose to judge really?

So I am pretty sure that dropping down to 5mg's of the one medication is not so good for me. And I think that the other medications makes it so I just don't care as much that I am so darn ridiculous and fly off the handle-ish.
So friends beware, now is the time to stay away... (though I must admit that I still like for people to bounce their ideas off me...so maybe don't stay away)
I'll get it sorted out again and be back on top...back down...No... somewhere in the middle in no time...or some time... Either way, I can't wait to run away to the islands with mountains. Alas there is always something to hold on to.

I am what I am

I am what I am and what you see is what you get.
For real.
So a thought I leave with you: If I am not the person I want to be and am not capable of being that person, or have only been frustrated in my attempts to be that person then I am perfectly fine with calling it a mental illness and taking medication for it if it helps me be the person I want to be! (anyone who has ever had children and has failed to practice self restraint when it comes to "discipline" might want to consider this idea also... unless, of course, that is the type of person they want to be...in which case we have just opened a whole new can of worms haven't we my friend!)
This is why I am what I am and what you see is what you get!
p.s. I love you

not today

Sometimes I just want to throw it all away and start over. Just me, the husband and the kids. I know the kids are game... Well maybe, kind of. But the husband, he'll take some convincing...
I am tired of all the things swimming around in my head. I'd like them to go away. Too many exposures to fairy tales, and statistics. Politics and Media. Books and bills. Visuals, said and unsaid expectations... Gone are the good old days of simplicity and self reliance...did they ever really exist?
Too many movies and magazines and too many people telling me what I should look like,what I should wear, what I should act like... And yet so many people have a problem with religion for the same exact reasons. Life is lame sometimes and so are people and all I can do is write about it on this lame ass blog and some people will be intrigued but most will find it a waste of their time so is that what we really are? Is that what I am and how and why? You see, sometimes it is all just bullshit. Bullshit that hits for a moment and hopefully I've learned well enough by now to just keep holding on and things'll get looking better again. I still love sunsets and I still love mountains, beaches and even people. I love rocks and flowers. I love cliffs and waterfalls. I love to fly. I love the wind and the rain. I love cool evenings and stars. I love fires and birds. I love simple things... Someday I will disappear into my simplicity but I suppose not today.

Saving lives.

It's not enough to merely save people from death. We can save lives but if the quality of that life is not worth it to them then what is the point?
Before my brothers passing I had recently connected with two friends from high school, that are sisters, and had been two of those people that you just get along easily with, connect with, and will always cherish. After my brothers passing the younger of two tactfully asked "how."

As it turned out my gracious friends lost there dad about six years ago, he also "took his own life"... My friends shared with me about him. I am so appreciative of their compassion and willingness to share. He'd hit a point of complete madness. He was no longer himself or at least not the man that they all knew and loved. Why? He'd been OK for so long. He'd been an amazing dad, a kind and generous person. Brilliant even. but then it all started to fall apart and who knows if he got help in time. Who knows if he was even taking the "help" that he was being given. All the same, he was going and then he was gone. They all tried to help him and at times even tried to save his life but those closest to him knew that it was not their life to save. They knew that merely keeping him alive was not saving him. They had already lost him... Where did he go?
Did he just give up on fighting? Had is adaptive practices been changed to the point of demise? Are mental disorders/illness's degenerative? Was it merely a matter of time?

Obviously there is no sufficient nor satisfactory answer to these questions, especially to his family. He is gone.

I have another friend, with whom I was fortunate enough to work with this last year. Her father passed away a month before my brother. At one point, when I was struggling a bit at work, I asked her how she was doing and if she felt this way or that. She was compassionately willing to talk. Our brief conversation led her to tell me that it was actually not the first father she had lost (although I must tell you, as evidence of her compassion, it was not her loosing two fathers that brought up the subject but how she felt so bad for her mother because this was her second husband to loose). As it turned out, her biological father committed suicide when she was very young. Her father was about the age of my brother. I was amazed and so impressed with my friend and her graciousness in coping and sharing. I asked her what he was like. She explained that he was in the military. He loved to work out. He often loved life. He was kind and loving and not the type of person you might expect this from, though he did struggle with depression from time to time.


I remember thinking how both of these men sounded similar to my brother. I have often thought that if he had only gotten married and had a family of his own this would not have happened. But after speaking with these two friends about their own fathers I have realized that is not the case. Family does not cure some one of mental illness and it does not save one from this fate. Family can do a lot for a person including improving their quality of life but in they end that alone would not have saved my brother, no matter how much they may have loved each other. There is so much more to the story here.


One thing I would like to point out is that I don't believe that such interactions and the many other bizarre coincidences are coincidences at all. I am soooo thankful that wonderful people were so conveniently lined up for me! Thank you so very much, my friends, for sharing and for wanting to help and make a difference in this crazy mixed up world we live in!


But I will also re-iterate: keeping some one breathing is not merely enough. We have a responsibility to each other to do more and be more. And yet, likewise, when it is someones time to go, no matter how painful or hard it is to understand, then it is time to let them go and love them just as well.

The simple little blog entry that turned into a bizarre creature of a thing...

Any one who knows me well, likely knows that they are one of my most favorite people. That being said I hope that my favorite people who really do not struggle to maintain sanity will still know that, yes, you are still one of my favorite people. (p.s. I am very fortunate because I know a lot of very very amazing, awesome and interesting people. It's not hard to have a lot of favorite people when you know the people that I know.)
But today I just want to say that I love my "crazy" friends. It is nice to talk with people who understand insanity similar to the way that I do. I also have to say that I think I trust these friends more then any one in the world.
I believe that unless you realize that you could possibly be just as "crazy" as that homeless man mumbling, growling and punching himself in the head then it is possible that you just might be more delusional then he is. Of course I am not saying that everyone needs psychiatric help, but rather I am saying that just because one person's world is not socially accepted as sane does not mean that society and all that is accepted and expected there-in is sane. With all of the knowledge that we have and that we have gained over the course of history it is silly to think that we are not being influenced by things that may not be immediately and obviously affecting us.
If I've lost you, don't worry I've lost myself to... So My point? I suppose it is this: Welcome to crazy my friends!
And to my "crazy" friends: Thank you for embracing your insanity and then working to maintain mental, emotional and societal responsibility! I absolutely Love You!
(I suppose I'm still a bit tired. I'm not sure that I'm actually saying what I am trying to say, but today I'll say it anyway. It's one of the perks you get to allow yourself when you succumb to taking medication to maintain sanity... oh, will I ever cease to embarrass myself? that'll likely be the day I disappear...flying away with pigs...I might go back and erase or edit this one later...when I'm more awake...after I frighten people away of course...)