Good evening! As the Sabbath hours are approaching – And have arrived in distant lands!
Have you ever wondered if angels get tired and weary? Do they cry when they see our pain and feel our loss, when we ignore their care and forget to trust?
Weeping with tears of things done here, but with unfolded wings ever returning, doing His bidding!
The tools we have used to survive – managing our lives – sometimes fail, leaving us with little strength to face our battles within and without! Our fences confine us, our walls divide us hindering us from sharing hope with others!
A gale came up – the wind blew The old weakened fence was almost rent in two Now it is bent and ready to fall taking only a small gust causing part of the fence to collapse the remaining taking up the slack
Sitting on a bench surveying the damage I thought about others – some of us are strong and some of us are tall and some of us have no hope at all!
Like the fence – the load is too heavy Life’s storms weaken – and we fall, but when we take our eyes off of our storms and gales we become a help to others!
Another week has swiftly passed, sunset’s colors scatter across the the heavenly skies setting aside a day of rest that our hearts may all beat in unison!
“A world without a Sabbath would be like a man without a smile – like a summer without flowers it is the joyous day of the week”
A Reflection on grief and mental illness . . . It was a warm summer morning in the month of July, as I sat in the office waiting to be released. I was given instructions to return every week to attend group therapy. The doctor had prescribed strong drugs to avert the suicidal ideation thoughts that brought me to this place. I was prescribed anti-psychotic meds, with Lithium used for this problem. Since I was drug resistant to antidepressants for depression, I was prescribed Nardil and its family of (MAOI) Inhibitors. When my ride finally arrived I was bid goodbye, and now on my own. The door shut behind me and I felt the warm sun on my skin, heard the sound of cars and an airplane and train that echoed in my mind. I felt alone and wasn’t sure I would make it. Trying to resume my activities was a challenge. Sometimes it was difficult to get out of bed. On one particular day I was staring at the ceiling fan and counting the blades as they turned in circular motion, counting and obsessing were part of my illness. The incessant numbers and words locked in my mind. But even though I felt fearful and afraid, there were times of uplifting experiences which gave me hope that I wasn’t alone in this battle of my mind. One such experience I will share, that I wrote to poetry, seeming a bit redundant, but that was the only tool given to me, journaling these moments to give me courage when I would begin to lose hope.
Called – ‘The Curtain’
Is it a dream? It seems as if it is – waking with a start I know it is not Opening my eyes to this illness, there is no one I can confide How it came about I could not explain, searching for an answer to a troubled mind
Reaching for my robe with throbbing pain and rapid pulse making an effort to stand by my bed, a brittle soul about to break, falling back down into slumber again
There is a stirring as I awake once more saying a prayer “Please my soul to take” Crispness of sheets brush against my skin a fever begins and my body seems to melt sheets now wet with the trickle of sweat
Beginning to thirst and bereft of water I become hotter, beginning once again to falter the hopeful anecdote to my illness has provoked it instead, another potion has created more mental commotion
The walls seem empty as I stare in space searching for anything to break the dreariness of this place, on the left hangs a picture dismal and grey, to the right a window dressed in lavender and white hanging from a silver rod could this be a gift from God?
I must see it better, slowly lifting my head from the bed, moving my legs to the floor, reaching for the wall with trembling hands, pulling the curtain to my side as I cry “This piece of cloth I wish to hang above my head”
As I try, my arms are not high enough, my hammer and nails strong enough, I sit in the midst of failure and quit, in my brokenness something greater than I draws the curtain aside, and with His rod accurate and right He drapes His banner of love* over me. . .
God’s hands became my hands, giving me strength and accuracy to secure the rod, and to this day the curtain hangs above my bed!
May you find rest and peace at the close of this hectic week!
All things in the past forgiven, resting places have arisen! The magic number seven, opens the door of heaven, a busy week of six, one day given for rest that all may be blest!
“Come with me, to a lonely place where you can rest quietly” Mark 6:31 New English Bible
People bereaved by the sudden death of a loved one or family member are 65% more likely to attempt suicide if the deceased died by suicide than if they died by natural causes *UCL
I found this to be true. . .
What would the world do without me? I thought I would see. . . My life would go on only in memory. I’d had enough – and so I thought – BUT God had plans of intervention!
INTENTION
I remember standing at the desk that day, I knew if the doctor could not help me, I would not make it. And yet I had felt that way before, for two years since the fatal attempt of my son’s life. But this time was – different!
STRUGGLE
Later on that day, the warm summer evening was with beauty all around, but I knew I would never again look upon. It was as if a compelling force took hold of my mind. Grabbing the bottle of pills, I drove to the store (for some reason I knew I would need a bottle of wine to secure this intention) even though I had never purchased a bottle or tasted of it before. I then drove up the road past homes of friends, feeling alone, but it would only be for a time.
ATTEMPT
As the sun began to set, I parked the car, praying for release from my heavy burdens. Then on my last night on earth, taking one more look at the shadows lingering upon the hills, I twisted the cork, tipping the bottle, then taking the pills, I fell asleep – death to me would be a sweet release.
INTERVENTION
Suddenly I awoke, as I was placed on a stretcher – people all around trying to keep me alive. I was angry! Why God, was I not taken from this world? Did you have something more in mind? Did I try to stop my clock for you to rewind? As I came to my senses the sound of the ambulance was rushing to the hospital. A 72 hour hold (by law when an attempt is made) was placed upon me, which in my case was extended.
COMMITTED
I have been placed among many people who are very ill struggling with challenges we all had in common, some more intense than others. I did not quite understand their tight hold on life. Laying awake at night to the sound of moans and screams, of nurses rushing in to control those restrained to their beds. With my stay, the space of time emptied into remoteness, days lost their existence, I was forced to face my anger and resentments.
RELEASED
The door closes behind me. I am released back into the world of obstacles. Feeling the warm sun on my skin, breathing fresh air, hearing the sounds of cars as they speed by. The sound of an airplane, the whistle of the train, people moving back and forth. Will I succeed in facing the world with medications and sedation? I have reservations as I leave this place. The world had gone on without me, not knowing or caring why I had suddenly left for a time. No one understands the apprehension I feel. Will family and friends reject me, will they lose credibility in me, will the stigma of this attempt follow me? Would there be resources available for those who survive their attempts of self harm, for family and friends left behind?
King David had many losses in his life and was continually fleeing from his enemies, until he felt as a dove without a song – lost and forgotten! He wrote this song ‘The Silent Dove In Distant Lands.’ Have we ever felt like a bird in a cage, who has lost its song? Alone, without family or friends? Pursued by our enemies? As David, we can place our enemies in God’s hands.
“Whenever I am afraid I will trust in You” Psalm – Chapter 56 “And He will put a new song in our mouth . . .” Psalm 40
After tragedy and lossthe body holds memories sympathizing with the mind, which seems to compartmentalize suppressing thoughts and emotions. Numbness is a safety shield, dealing with pain, for to deal with it all at once is overwhelming. It takes time to grieve, to gradually make the decision to walk away. Letting go is not in our timing. I’ve found it repetitious, like moving from one room to another, with conflicting messages . . .
Each time I walk into this room it is strangely quiet bare and empty, but for a few pieces of old furniture old and worn the windows are closed without a breath of air, tired and lonely from memories and cares it has refused to share
It is in mourning, quiet and still, it portrays a lack of honesty and wears a costume of despair whenever I venture in it is hard to leave, locked inside with its loneliness and self defeat
One day I looked in a room beside it with some pictures on the wall, and little things began to happen giving a clue, the two rooms were slowly coming together, shifting their weight, holding each other
Little urges appeared gradually pulling the drapes, allowing the light to diffuse the darkness, from starless nights and sunless days
Knocking on the door, I am reluctant to go in but gathering courage, I offer to help with this room perhaps I could share a bed, a dresser with sheets of peace and a blanket of comfort and a chest of hope windows with curtains, cleaning with a little water and soap
With a welcoming spirit it invites me in, now we are not just a room but a house of our own!
I have tried everything else, trying to escape, not able to think climbing the Ladder of Grief The steps of the ladder do not always come in order, sometimes I slip, falling back on the rungs of the others
Sometimes it wavers and then begins to fall, holding on with dear life,I tread these steps, thinking I have achieved, then suddenly it changes
Climbing these steps in theory, why can’t they all happen at once? And then I see – THERE ARE FIVE STEPS IN ALL
DENIAL
ANGER
SHAME
BLAME 5. ACCEPTANCE
OF ALL THESE – ACCEPTANCE IS THE ANSWER TO THEM ALL!
Donna's Poetry Blog 