The spiritual dimension of me is probably the main thing that has kept me through these years and even now. I was thinking today that everyday I wake up sane, or as old people used to say "clothed in my right mind", is a blessing from God. Everything else is gravy. It will be this way until I die. (I am not planning to get that sick again.)
Think about it. How many people are blessed enough to come out of and survive 25 years of psychosis, paranoia and delusion? I'm not bragging, I'm just saying, I lived in insanity. It was what it was. And now I give the thanks to whom it's due.
Now, it's so nice to just sit by myself in my apartment and listen to the quiet. My mind was never quiet for those years except in sleep. So, listening to the quiet is a real blessing.
To go to a job I like and believe in is a blessing. Imagine, I get to encourage and support fellow peers as they journey into wellness. And, the job is as good in theory as it is in actuality.
So, I thank God, from whom all blessings flow. And I trust in the Lord, leaning not to my own understanding. I acknowledge Him in every way and He directs my path. I cast my burdens on the Lord, and lose my care.
This is my personal truth.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
person-centered care
I believe in person-centered care. You have to use everything you have within you to make it through this kind of illness. A person who is just reduced to a "pill-popper" will never be well in the long-run in my opinion. Take it from one who found herself at 45 in body and 21 in emotional and social arenas.
I have isolated myself since this illness started. It took everything I had to work, the times that I did. I never really had a therapist until i was about 37. Oh, I've had flashes in the pan, but no one you would go back to. Mainly, my treatment consisted of meds, hospital and psychiatrists visits. It's no wonder I've always felt so disconnected, even from myself. So, I found myself in my 40's feeling like I was in my 20s.
I feel very awkward because I'm just facing the world as a rational adult and yet I'm 49.
There was much work to do when I found myself free from the torture. I do want to live a whole life and not just go to work and do nothing else. I think I deserve much more than that. So, I devised a plan that has here-to-fore been successful.
First, since I had been in isolation for so long and I knew my social skills were "not," I joined a group at NAMI that goes to different events and once a month bowling and pizza. It's a great group. I knew I could go there because not only is it just for consumers but it is consumer run. You didn't have to feel like a sore thumb. However, at first I did. I went for a year until my job changed and interfered with the timing. But, it's great because you have many consumers at many levels and there's got to be someone you click with. I found a lot of people like this.
Second, I devised a plan to get me away from here. I need to start over and I need to be around family. So, I put myself on a timeline to move to Atlanta. I'm sure that if I pass their test for certification, I can easily find a peer support specialist job, which was my career goal. I have already accomplished the goal for working here as one and I get to work for the company I envisioned working for. I have 200 of the 500 hours it takes to get certified in this state and then I would just have to take the test in Georgia.
Third, I had to find a more comfortable church. I needed to start over. The church I went to, I was a member for 6 years and knew no one but the Seniors I worked with and later attended bible study with at their fellowship. The church has thousands of members, three services and its just unmanageable for me to navigate. What I needed was a smaller down-home type of church where everyone at least talked about being family with one another.
After a couple churches, I felt like Goldilocks. But, I finally got it right (I think, it's still very new for me). I feel the Spirit and I feel comfortable and the Pastor is a good preacher. I'm not intimidated by a sea of faces every Sunday morning and I like that. That's really all I need. So, I dubbed this one "just right."
I just received confirmation that I passed my medical for my Commercial Drivers License and now all I have to do is get myself finger printed. That, I won't worry about. I have had no major run-ins with the law. But, my medical was a nail-biter because I take so many medications. I'm sure I need them though (after all these years of being refractory, I would know). It would have been ironic that the very condition that most qualified me for the job, kept me from complying. Praise God.
After 35 years, I've quit smoking. I have been smoke free for 6 months and some change. Now, I need to concentrate on my diet, my health and my weight. No one told me that I would gain a lot of weight on these medications and at first I was too sick to really care. I wish that someone would have talked to me about nutrition and exercise when I was still a size 6 (smile).
I have isolated myself since this illness started. It took everything I had to work, the times that I did. I never really had a therapist until i was about 37. Oh, I've had flashes in the pan, but no one you would go back to. Mainly, my treatment consisted of meds, hospital and psychiatrists visits. It's no wonder I've always felt so disconnected, even from myself. So, I found myself in my 40's feeling like I was in my 20s.
I feel very awkward because I'm just facing the world as a rational adult and yet I'm 49.
There was much work to do when I found myself free from the torture. I do want to live a whole life and not just go to work and do nothing else. I think I deserve much more than that. So, I devised a plan that has here-to-fore been successful.
First, since I had been in isolation for so long and I knew my social skills were "not," I joined a group at NAMI that goes to different events and once a month bowling and pizza. It's a great group. I knew I could go there because not only is it just for consumers but it is consumer run. You didn't have to feel like a sore thumb. However, at first I did. I went for a year until my job changed and interfered with the timing. But, it's great because you have many consumers at many levels and there's got to be someone you click with. I found a lot of people like this.
Second, I devised a plan to get me away from here. I need to start over and I need to be around family. So, I put myself on a timeline to move to Atlanta. I'm sure that if I pass their test for certification, I can easily find a peer support specialist job, which was my career goal. I have already accomplished the goal for working here as one and I get to work for the company I envisioned working for. I have 200 of the 500 hours it takes to get certified in this state and then I would just have to take the test in Georgia.
Third, I had to find a more comfortable church. I needed to start over. The church I went to, I was a member for 6 years and knew no one but the Seniors I worked with and later attended bible study with at their fellowship. The church has thousands of members, three services and its just unmanageable for me to navigate. What I needed was a smaller down-home type of church where everyone at least talked about being family with one another.
After a couple churches, I felt like Goldilocks. But, I finally got it right (I think, it's still very new for me). I feel the Spirit and I feel comfortable and the Pastor is a good preacher. I'm not intimidated by a sea of faces every Sunday morning and I like that. That's really all I need. So, I dubbed this one "just right."
I just received confirmation that I passed my medical for my Commercial Drivers License and now all I have to do is get myself finger printed. That, I won't worry about. I have had no major run-ins with the law. But, my medical was a nail-biter because I take so many medications. I'm sure I need them though (after all these years of being refractory, I would know). It would have been ironic that the very condition that most qualified me for the job, kept me from complying. Praise God.
After 35 years, I've quit smoking. I have been smoke free for 6 months and some change. Now, I need to concentrate on my diet, my health and my weight. No one told me that I would gain a lot of weight on these medications and at first I was too sick to really care. I wish that someone would have talked to me about nutrition and exercise when I was still a size 6 (smile).
Sunday, July 24, 2011
share the wealth of information (everyone)
I'm in love with the commercial with Susan Taylor and Terrie Williams trying to entice the African-American Community into a dialogue about mental illness. This has been a long time coming. We judge so harshly sometimes. Even some of those within our own families. They say things like,"stop being lazy and get a job," when you're trying to work but can't hold one.
I think these women are very astute for bringing this to the forefront. The more people that are educated about this illness, I believe they will let the stigma go. I think the nation is due for this kind of conversation.
I saw and heard Terrie Williams at a women's retreat. She was very compelling in her call for "a healing" in the community. I hope this catches on and in my lifetime, I can talk about the brain disorder I have as if it were diabetes. Wouldn't that be wonderful?
I think these women are very astute for bringing this to the forefront. The more people that are educated about this illness, I believe they will let the stigma go. I think the nation is due for this kind of conversation.
I saw and heard Terrie Williams at a women's retreat. She was very compelling in her call for "a healing" in the community. I hope this catches on and in my lifetime, I can talk about the brain disorder I have as if it were diabetes. Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Saturday, July 23, 2011
you better work
All the entries I have made in this blog are my experiences with schizoaffective disorder. This is all I know. There is not a wealth of definitive information about schizophrenia and other forms. The brain is a complex organ. Psychiatrists only guess at what medication will work for any given person; it's a crap shoot at best, in my opinion.
I tried to find information on suicidal ideations and schizophrenia. I didn't find many conclusive answers or statistics. Again, all I know is what I've lived. No journal can tell me about my pain and neither can a psychiatrist unless they have the same brain disorder.
Every day was a trial. I just wanted to escape the emotional pain and character orchestration in my head. It got to the point that I didn't know which voice was mine. I was still trying to work, but I never could hold down a job for long period of time because of the voices. There was one exception where I worked for seven years. I'm a 49-year old woman and that's the longest time that I have worked with no interruption until the end when I had to go on FMLA.
I have a B.A. in Journalism that I tried to use twice. Both jobs were excellent opportunities for me. One was at a newsletter publishing firm in Arlington, VA and the other was a newspaper reporter position for a small town in West Virginia. The Arlington job was great. I even got to cover a story at a congressional hearing. It made me feel like a journalist because I was just out of school. I lived with suicidal ideations all day long and I never told my family this. I told them that I wanted to leave because I couldn't find good medical help... well, I couldn't. But I was more scared of trying to commit suicide and succeeding and that they would only discover my body when it started stinking in the hall.
The worse part is I loved this job. Whenever my symptoms got too much to manage, I would tell them I suffer from migraines and leave (more acceptable) and they were cool with that as long as I got my work done. There's a real difference in working with creative people versus a "normal" job. I loved that difference. Nevertheless, the ideations and voices kept on to the point that I knew I had to go home and refresh. I refused to give up.
.
But, I should have. Two weeks into my new reporting job about six months after the newsletter firm, I tried to commit suicide. I was on my way to the police station to discuss a molestation case. I had a panic attack, but at that time I didn't know what one was. I was crying like I was over one of my parent's grave. And I couldn't compose myself as I drove into the parking lot. I sat there a long time unable to compose myself.
I drove to my doctor's office. He wasn't there. I went home. I called my dad. He wasn't in his office. I called friend. He wasn't there. That's when I looked at the bottle of Xanax and decided to take them all.
I wanted my family to know that they could have done nothing. I just wanted to get rid of the drama that played out in my head every day. So, I left a note. I was blessed though; but, I didn't think so then.
In my haste to call someone, I left my apartment door unlocked. A friend from work, who was a quintessential reporter, came to investigate when I never returned from the police station. She brought police with her so that she could enter the apartment. They called an ambulance and saved my life.
The only reason I never attempted again is the look on my father's face the next day. He had driven from Pittsburgh to see about me. I didn't want to inflict pain on my parents or family, I just wanted mine to end. But, it didn't. So, as my poem in the first post said, I got a double dose.
I still tried to work, never finding a professional job. I worked a lot of minimum wage jobs. I couldn't hold one. This was rock bottom for me. I was 28 years old and I couldn't take care of myself. I felt so inadequate. This is about the time I was introduced to clozapine by my psychiatrist (an anti-psychotic) . It dulled the voices some so that I could crawl into a bank customer service phone job every day. But, I was proud of myself for working. There was a time when I was almost agorophobic, but my father scared me when he told me that I could sit here with him the rest of my life or push myself out the door everyday. Needless to say, visions of being an adult child in their home scared me.
I worked this job until my new psychiatrist (I had to change psychiatrists since I now worked, this messed my treatment up considerably) decided that he didn't know what to do with me after six years of treating me relatively well and reccomended FMLA. Well, that just gave me a vacation; it didn't improve my symptoms. When I came back things were very tense, but before they lowered the boom, I recieved a job offer from a company in Philadelphia I had applied to.
This company asked me to leave after two years. Of course, they persuaded me to resign. That brought me to New Jersey and my parent's home, again.
I have worked retail here. I was a security guard for three years. And, then I set my sites on a peer specialist position. I thank God for blessing me with such a position. I get to help people like me for a living.
Dreams deferred? I've had many. But I think that everything is in line right now. I know that whatever happens from now on, I'm going to be just fine. Even if I relapse or lose this job. I am very calm. And I feel relaxed. I know that He is in control.
I tried to find information on suicidal ideations and schizophrenia. I didn't find many conclusive answers or statistics. Again, all I know is what I've lived. No journal can tell me about my pain and neither can a psychiatrist unless they have the same brain disorder.
Every day was a trial. I just wanted to escape the emotional pain and character orchestration in my head. It got to the point that I didn't know which voice was mine. I was still trying to work, but I never could hold down a job for long period of time because of the voices. There was one exception where I worked for seven years. I'm a 49-year old woman and that's the longest time that I have worked with no interruption until the end when I had to go on FMLA.
I have a B.A. in Journalism that I tried to use twice. Both jobs were excellent opportunities for me. One was at a newsletter publishing firm in Arlington, VA and the other was a newspaper reporter position for a small town in West Virginia. The Arlington job was great. I even got to cover a story at a congressional hearing. It made me feel like a journalist because I was just out of school. I lived with suicidal ideations all day long and I never told my family this. I told them that I wanted to leave because I couldn't find good medical help... well, I couldn't. But I was more scared of trying to commit suicide and succeeding and that they would only discover my body when it started stinking in the hall.
The worse part is I loved this job. Whenever my symptoms got too much to manage, I would tell them I suffer from migraines and leave (more acceptable) and they were cool with that as long as I got my work done. There's a real difference in working with creative people versus a "normal" job. I loved that difference. Nevertheless, the ideations and voices kept on to the point that I knew I had to go home and refresh. I refused to give up.
.
But, I should have. Two weeks into my new reporting job about six months after the newsletter firm, I tried to commit suicide. I was on my way to the police station to discuss a molestation case. I had a panic attack, but at that time I didn't know what one was. I was crying like I was over one of my parent's grave. And I couldn't compose myself as I drove into the parking lot. I sat there a long time unable to compose myself.
I drove to my doctor's office. He wasn't there. I went home. I called my dad. He wasn't in his office. I called friend. He wasn't there. That's when I looked at the bottle of Xanax and decided to take them all.
I wanted my family to know that they could have done nothing. I just wanted to get rid of the drama that played out in my head every day. So, I left a note. I was blessed though; but, I didn't think so then.
In my haste to call someone, I left my apartment door unlocked. A friend from work, who was a quintessential reporter, came to investigate when I never returned from the police station. She brought police with her so that she could enter the apartment. They called an ambulance and saved my life.
The only reason I never attempted again is the look on my father's face the next day. He had driven from Pittsburgh to see about me. I didn't want to inflict pain on my parents or family, I just wanted mine to end. But, it didn't. So, as my poem in the first post said, I got a double dose.
I still tried to work, never finding a professional job. I worked a lot of minimum wage jobs. I couldn't hold one. This was rock bottom for me. I was 28 years old and I couldn't take care of myself. I felt so inadequate. This is about the time I was introduced to clozapine by my psychiatrist (an anti-psychotic) . It dulled the voices some so that I could crawl into a bank customer service phone job every day. But, I was proud of myself for working. There was a time when I was almost agorophobic, but my father scared me when he told me that I could sit here with him the rest of my life or push myself out the door everyday. Needless to say, visions of being an adult child in their home scared me.
I worked this job until my new psychiatrist (I had to change psychiatrists since I now worked, this messed my treatment up considerably) decided that he didn't know what to do with me after six years of treating me relatively well and reccomended FMLA. Well, that just gave me a vacation; it didn't improve my symptoms. When I came back things were very tense, but before they lowered the boom, I recieved a job offer from a company in Philadelphia I had applied to.
This company asked me to leave after two years. Of course, they persuaded me to resign. That brought me to New Jersey and my parent's home, again.
I have worked retail here. I was a security guard for three years. And, then I set my sites on a peer specialist position. I thank God for blessing me with such a position. I get to help people like me for a living.
Dreams deferred? I've had many. But I think that everything is in line right now. I know that whatever happens from now on, I'm going to be just fine. Even if I relapse or lose this job. I am very calm. And I feel relaxed. I know that He is in control.
Friday, July 15, 2011
risking feelings
Some people may think me strange to put it on the line with a subject like mental illness. I say we all need to have a serious discussion about the subject. Especially when the only time we hear about it is when someone has been murdered or shot. Nevertheless, I do it because I want to help and I think it needs to be done.
I first "disclosed" as part of a documentary, "Documenting our presence....", in 2007. I talked about my illness, treatment and life openly. I did it because I had just come out of 25 years of psychosis and I wanted to help.
After I saw the documentary for the first time, I thought, "Oh no...I've put myself out there for the world to see." But then, I thought that it was for the greater good. That is when I decided I wanted to be an active voice in the "trenches" of the war on stigma.
I work with NAMI-NJ (National Alliance on Mental Illness-New Jersey) as a volunteer. So, I then began to be a presenter in their program, "In Our Own Voice", where we speak to different groups in the community about our experiences living with a mental illness. Our main goal is to try to eliminate stigma through education and putting a "face" on the illness.
I have also done speaking engagements and I hope to do more. I maintain that if we would all speak out and stand up we could eradicate the stigma associated with brain disorders. I just want to do my part.
I first "disclosed" as part of a documentary, "Documenting our presence....", in 2007. I talked about my illness, treatment and life openly. I did it because I had just come out of 25 years of psychosis and I wanted to help.
After I saw the documentary for the first time, I thought, "Oh no...I've put myself out there for the world to see." But then, I thought that it was for the greater good. That is when I decided I wanted to be an active voice in the "trenches" of the war on stigma.
I work with NAMI-NJ (National Alliance on Mental Illness-New Jersey) as a volunteer. So, I then began to be a presenter in their program, "In Our Own Voice", where we speak to different groups in the community about our experiences living with a mental illness. Our main goal is to try to eliminate stigma through education and putting a "face" on the illness.
I have also done speaking engagements and I hope to do more. I maintain that if we would all speak out and stand up we could eradicate the stigma associated with brain disorders. I just want to do my part.
invisible and invincible
You may think of the two terms in the title as oxymoronic. They are. But they can still coexist. I was invisible for 25 years. I sat in public places alone, entertaining my voices (not out loud), laughing. Looking back, I know people looked; raised an eyebrow. But, I was oblivious. Because I felt invisible. I didn't care and couldn't imagine anyone caring about me or why they would. (illness will do this for you) Invisible.
Now, I am about 8 on the wellness scale. I still go out alone if I want to. I eat alone. I go to coffeehouses and write alone. I will go to the movies alone. Anything I want to do I do, if there's no one to come along or it's spontaneous. I go it alone, even though I now know I am not invisible. I don't care. Twenty-five years of psychosis trained me well. Although now, I feel I am invincible. I have come back to life. I have recovered.
I was reminded of this by a man I saw in Panera. I could tell right away he had problems. I saw myself.
we know us
(when we see us)
walkin around like a
ghost
in a public place
alone
can't sit still
outside/inside/outside/inside
putting little papers in the trash
intermittently
probably thinks he's invisible
'cause
he doesn't see us
i can look back
and see me
want to save someone
but don't want to scare them
telling them of
the road ahead
he was
refractory
or at the beginning
of a psychiatric journey
someone probably dropped
him off
thinking
it'll be good for him
but he doesn't mind
he's invisible
and i am
frequently alone in public places
doesn't bother me
psychosis and invisibility prepared me for it
now
i am invincible
i have recovered from a mental illness
By the way, I saw him later at the office where I see my therapist.
Now, I am about 8 on the wellness scale. I still go out alone if I want to. I eat alone. I go to coffeehouses and write alone. I will go to the movies alone. Anything I want to do I do, if there's no one to come along or it's spontaneous. I go it alone, even though I now know I am not invisible. I don't care. Twenty-five years of psychosis trained me well. Although now, I feel I am invincible. I have come back to life. I have recovered.
I was reminded of this by a man I saw in Panera. I could tell right away he had problems. I saw myself.
we know us
(when we see us)
walkin around like a
ghost
in a public place
alone
can't sit still
outside/inside/outside/inside
putting little papers in the trash
intermittently
probably thinks he's invisible
'cause
he doesn't see us
i can look back
and see me
want to save someone
but don't want to scare them
telling them of
the road ahead
he was
refractory
or at the beginning
of a psychiatric journey
someone probably dropped
him off
thinking
it'll be good for him
but he doesn't mind
he's invisible
and i am
frequently alone in public places
doesn't bother me
psychosis and invisibility prepared me for it
now
i am invincible
i have recovered from a mental illness
By the way, I saw him later at the office where I see my therapist.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
the things we leave behind
there are things we leave behind that we can never recover. i'm sure you can think of a few whether you have experienced a loss of your faculties or not. i was "struck down" at 20. i thought i was grown but i was still very much a child. i had no responsibilities but school and personal maintenance. suffice it to say, i was relatively carefree. i would have liked to progress from thos days gradually, naturally. i missed the natural progression of life at that stage into adulthood.
i would have liked to have been stable enough to meet someone and marry, have a family. i still don't think i am mature enough emotionally or financially to raise a child, especially on my own. sometimes, this saddens me. but, i know i couldn't have handled either in the state i was in.
i miss the friends i left behind because i was too paranoid to deal with them.
i miss the joy of meeting and knowing people because i was scared of them and thought they could read my mind.
i miss the many chances i had to make somewhat of the success of my life like the ongoing engineering internship, the newspaper job and the newsletter publishing job where i was a reporter. and even though i didn't particularly care for this job, the insurance job i got fired from (at least it was work).
i miss jacquese as i used to know her.
i missed a whole bunch of parties and clubs and foolishness. i used to love to trip with my friends.
i miss being the highly intelligent confident person i was and wonder if i would have maintained that had i progressed naturally.
i would have liked to have been stable enough to meet someone and marry, have a family. i still don't think i am mature enough emotionally or financially to raise a child, especially on my own. sometimes, this saddens me. but, i know i couldn't have handled either in the state i was in.
i miss the friends i left behind because i was too paranoid to deal with them.
i miss the joy of meeting and knowing people because i was scared of them and thought they could read my mind.
i miss the many chances i had to make somewhat of the success of my life like the ongoing engineering internship, the newspaper job and the newsletter publishing job where i was a reporter. and even though i didn't particularly care for this job, the insurance job i got fired from (at least it was work).
i miss jacquese as i used to know her.
i missed a whole bunch of parties and clubs and foolishness. i used to love to trip with my friends.
i miss being the highly intelligent confident person i was and wonder if i would have maintained that had i progressed naturally.
welcome from outerspace
welcome me from outer space through the desert and into the greenness of my own backyard. I am feeling blessed in spite of all i've been through. i am feeling free although i was chained in shackles once and only dreamed of the concept of freedom. i used to look for a modern day harriet tubman to help me chart the course. tried to follow the drinking gourd on my own, but it didn't work. because my mind was chained and only my God could set it free. i am blessed. (can you tell i was listening to my sister jill scott this morning?)
where i had been torn, mutilated, i am now whole. i am blessed.
people i didn't know used to come up to me and say, "it can't be that bad." i would give a little smile knowing it was much worse than they could ever suspect. i would also think how dare they trespass into my personal sadness, extreme depression.
i used to be afraid that i would be forever psychologically damaged by the level of depression i lived with. (this was back in '84) until i went to a wynton marsalis concert and he played some notes that made me shed tears and i thought at least one person experienced that level, there must be more. i was in my 20s so i was still very self-absorbed.
now, i know that those days only reinforce my new found Joy and only serve to make me a knowingly stronger person for having gone through that very, very long period, because...i survived. and now i can only say God has blessed me.
my mother and father and brother are very positive people. i used to think that they were very naive. but, that was the depression talking. my father always loved the song that says, "God has smiled on me, He has set me free. God has smiled on me, He's been good to me."
i used to think that was easy for him to say. he and my mother rose from the jim crow south to an upper middle class lifestyle. but now i know it's deeper than that. i'm sure they give God the credit for giving them the strength, insight and fortitude to manuveur into the position they came to know as home. so, there is depth there. and though i never picked cotton (my father said this solely gave him the motivation to leave alabama and go to college), i definitely understand adversity. and, i feel the depth associated with that song.
some call us a family of black nerds, but we don't care. we are happy with each other. we feel blessed to be here. and i for one feel blessed to be a part of the armstrong/thomas experience (it goes deeper than just the nuclear family). i guess that's where i get my persistence and hard headedness from.
where i had been torn, mutilated, i am now whole. i am blessed.
people i didn't know used to come up to me and say, "it can't be that bad." i would give a little smile knowing it was much worse than they could ever suspect. i would also think how dare they trespass into my personal sadness, extreme depression.
i used to be afraid that i would be forever psychologically damaged by the level of depression i lived with. (this was back in '84) until i went to a wynton marsalis concert and he played some notes that made me shed tears and i thought at least one person experienced that level, there must be more. i was in my 20s so i was still very self-absorbed.
now, i know that those days only reinforce my new found Joy and only serve to make me a knowingly stronger person for having gone through that very, very long period, because...i survived. and now i can only say God has blessed me.
my mother and father and brother are very positive people. i used to think that they were very naive. but, that was the depression talking. my father always loved the song that says, "God has smiled on me, He has set me free. God has smiled on me, He's been good to me."
i used to think that was easy for him to say. he and my mother rose from the jim crow south to an upper middle class lifestyle. but now i know it's deeper than that. i'm sure they give God the credit for giving them the strength, insight and fortitude to manuveur into the position they came to know as home. so, there is depth there. and though i never picked cotton (my father said this solely gave him the motivation to leave alabama and go to college), i definitely understand adversity. and, i feel the depth associated with that song.
some call us a family of black nerds, but we don't care. we are happy with each other. we feel blessed to be here. and i for one feel blessed to be a part of the armstrong/thomas experience (it goes deeper than just the nuclear family). i guess that's where i get my persistence and hard headedness from.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
dealing with disappointment
Another part of getting your Joy back and keeping it is learning to deal with disappointment. When we
are babies we cry. When we get a little older, we may become rebellious (yours truly). A little older and we tolerate or reason, usually superficially. But, none of these responses prepare you for the loss of
your faculties.
Over the years, I have developed a system for myself. I call it the 4 R's. I wrote a poem
that illustrates this point:
are babies we cry. When we get a little older, we may become rebellious (yours truly). A little older and we tolerate or reason, usually superficially. But, none of these responses prepare you for the loss of
your faculties.
Over the years, I have developed a system for myself. I call it the 4 R's. I wrote a poem
that illustrates this point:
promise
mental illness is a thief
a thief that steals
futures
potential
happiness
that is until you
refocus
reevaluate
redefine
redirect
and cheat the thief
out of his spoils
-jaa
I’d like to introduce you to my four R’s. I truly believe in this sequence. I’ve had to do it most of my life.
To refocus, you single in on a positive aspect of your calamity. You reevaluate to see if you might be able to figure out another route or another goal. You redefine yourself and truly commit to the new goal, trying not to look back. You bundle all these together and redirect yourself towards the new route or goal. These four are my mantra for surviving a mental illness with a minimum amount of upset. But, you have to believe in them.
Monday, July 11, 2011
but when you get to bring the Joy back....
it's like night and day. one day you're praying to die and the next you're looking forward to a new day. you always look back and cry if you suffered long enough. 25 years was just too long. i don't think the pain will ever totally go away. but, once you get that Joy back, you protect it like it's gold...
ain’t nobody (gonna steal my joy)
ain’t nobody gonna steal my joy
you can try
but as soon as the daggers from
your eyes
meet my forcefield they’ll
mirror
& turn on you
can’t steal my joy
i heard a girl say
don’t let them steal your joy
God gave you that joy girl
better keep it
ain’t nobody worth denyin it for
girl you better snatch your joy back
‘cause there are looters
& thieves
liars
and prophetic deniers
combatatives destitutes and
vampires that sap your energy
there are negative souls
just waitin
to cancel your positives
and there’s a guy down the road
says he’s got a good deal for you
forests of negativity
where you dare not look
at the trees
misty maven widows
who try
to make you feel bad
‘cause
a destitute revoked their joy
and they think
they can’t get it back
and i heard her say
don’t let them steal your joy
tell ‘em
to get their own
amen.
-jaarmstrong 4/15/11
to tell you what my brand of schizophrenia was like or "runnin and hidin"
i felt like i wanted to throw my head in the trash. i always wonder in retrospect about people who crave drama. i've had enough drama in my head for a lifetime and don't need any outside of my head either.
one day in the life:
strange days
i
awake
in the morning
to
no static
at all
but it catches me
as i let myself out the door
there is a haze
helium
inside the mind
and other words invade
i
shift to neutral
i want to cry
but there are no
more tears
this is my time in
and out of an unreal universe
25 years
and still
i
wonder/wander
this poem was written in psychosis about psychosis. (psychosis is such a dirty word to people, but that's another story.) psychotic symptoms were the norm for me for 25 years. i was going to try to explain it to you in prose, but maybe a poem would explain it better. this one i wrote in retrospect. imagine your life like this:
psychosis
one day in the life:
strange days
i
awake
in the morning
to
no static
at all
but it catches me
as i let myself out the door
there is a haze
helium
inside the mind
and other words invade
i
shift to neutral
i want to cry
but there are no
more tears
this is my time in
and out of an unreal universe
25 years
and still
i
wonder/wander
this poem was written in psychosis about psychosis. (psychosis is such a dirty word to people, but that's another story.) psychotic symptoms were the norm for me for 25 years. i was going to try to explain it to you in prose, but maybe a poem would explain it better. this one i wrote in retrospect. imagine your life like this:
psychosis
25 years
in his jail
he was
a torturer/he masked the Fight
he was
sadistic/evil
he
tried to
entice me
to die
willingly
(only God had other plans)
he
had me bind and gag
my sane self
at gunpoint
playin russian roulette
with my head
and turned me so
i didn’t know
if anyone in my head
was sane
or me
he
had his cohorts
follow me everywhere
to insure
slavery
no freedom train
no Savior
blackout in my head
snow on every television
the world
disappeared
he
turned
everything i
loved grotesque
had me writin love letters
to
fictional characters
who screwed
emotions
for a living
and menaced
the enchanted forests
of a romantic mind
but i thought
(this was my downfall)
he
turned my
own words
against me
to nightmare
my days
and consume my nights
in a corner clutched head
sobbing
wanted to disconnect my head
and drop it
in the trash
the lights went out often
innocence
became the worst
dictionary word
because it wasn’t
and yet
it looked the pinkish rose petal
and was
he
would attack physically
from nowhere
never seen
demons
in all dimensions
he was the
devil’s
evil nemesis
hope i didn't scare you, but this is how it felt for me. sometimes much worse, but words can't describe. it's a terrible thing to lose your mind and i can't understand why people make us suffer twice with stigma.
"runnin and hidin" is what i did a lot. but i couldn't get away from my head. i prayed to God to let me die. maybe that was blasphemous, but it's how i felt.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
can't go on without making this clear
I grew up believing in Christianity, however, there was a time I believed in God only in the Universal sense. But, like the Bible says,"Train up a child in the way he should go...." I had to come back to Christ. This poem I wrote about four years ago about that time in my life follows:
looking for Jesus ( and finding Him)
i was runnin in the dark
and i thought
if I could just get to Jesus
so I started callin His Name
and
i shouted
Jesus
(sometimes i see myself
at 19
and i start to cry
there is nothing i can tell
that jacquese
to prepare her
for what i've been through
better to leave her dumb to it)
the tears pour down in
frustration and overcome emotion
it seems as if
i have lost my life
and there is only One
to help this situation
this runnin in the dark
Jesus
He is the Light
He is my only chance
then...and now
to know this
to know that i know that i know
this
is the only good thing
to come out of this insanity trip
that
and the fact that
i came through on the other side
seemingly whole
but only because of Jesus
I thought I was cool believing in God only in the Universal sense. That way i only had to deal with meditations, Universal Minds and Positive energy, not the blood that Jesus shed or the Body that was tortured and then rose. Funny but these are the things that in the end give me Hope. Jesus was obedient to His Father until death. He didn't want to be nailed to a Cross, but He did it for us and because His Father deemed it His Will. If Jesus chose to endure this Pain, then who am I to complain. I mean, I think that God has valid reasons for everything that takes place on Earth. He has it all worked out for our Good. We are the prodigal sons.
I still believe in the universality of God, but only to augment my Christian way of life. When I write I use the Universal sense because I want to be respectful of other's choices. God did give us Free Will. (He's so Holy like that.). I just hope that my Christian brothers and sisters can understand this.
My pastor today reminded me of a book I read by Maya Angelou, "wouldn't take nothin for my journey now." I guess I can understand that now. You get to a place where things just seem brighter and brighter. And you wonder how you got there, feeling as destitute and suicidal everyday as you did. And the old preacher's say, "my soul looks back in wonder." And you know, that Jesus carried you, just as God intended.
looking for Jesus ( and finding Him)
i was runnin in the dark
and i thought
if I could just get to Jesus
so I started callin His Name
and
i shouted
Jesus
(sometimes i see myself
at 19
and i start to cry
there is nothing i can tell
that jacquese
to prepare her
for what i've been through
better to leave her dumb to it)
the tears pour down in
frustration and overcome emotion
it seems as if
i have lost my life
and there is only One
to help this situation
this runnin in the dark
Jesus
He is the Light
He is my only chance
then...and now
to know this
to know that i know that i know
this
is the only good thing
to come out of this insanity trip
that
and the fact that
i came through on the other side
seemingly whole
but only because of Jesus
I thought I was cool believing in God only in the Universal sense. That way i only had to deal with meditations, Universal Minds and Positive energy, not the blood that Jesus shed or the Body that was tortured and then rose. Funny but these are the things that in the end give me Hope. Jesus was obedient to His Father until death. He didn't want to be nailed to a Cross, but He did it for us and because His Father deemed it His Will. If Jesus chose to endure this Pain, then who am I to complain. I mean, I think that God has valid reasons for everything that takes place on Earth. He has it all worked out for our Good. We are the prodigal sons.
I still believe in the universality of God, but only to augment my Christian way of life. When I write I use the Universal sense because I want to be respectful of other's choices. God did give us Free Will. (He's so Holy like that.). I just hope that my Christian brothers and sisters can understand this.
My pastor today reminded me of a book I read by Maya Angelou, "wouldn't take nothin for my journey now." I guess I can understand that now. You get to a place where things just seem brighter and brighter. And you wonder how you got there, feeling as destitute and suicidal everyday as you did. And the old preacher's say, "my soul looks back in wonder." And you know, that Jesus carried you, just as God intended.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
a bit about "wellness and recovery"
In my opinion, everyone is recovering and on the road to what they call wellness. Everyone has their own definition of wellness and it may change from time to time.
I, as a person with a mental illness, am no different. As a child through the beginning of young adulthood, my wellness hinged upon my level of maturity whether physical or philosophical. Unfortunately, this process was interrupted by a mental illness called schizo-affective disorder.
This brought a new spectrum to my thoughts of "wellness and recovery." Suddenly, things I took for granted became goals to achieve. There were some losses I can never recover. I felt that I lost my identity as an intelligent successful young adult in the world. All of a sudden, I was a child again because this was something new to deal with. I had to be able to learn to reasonably master growth in the environment called mental illness.
My first goal was to get back to college and finish my engineering degree. It was my belief that once I did this, I would be okay. I was in denial for a very long time.
This was my first kick in the teeth. Before the onset of the illness, I was a B average student in chemical engineering. Upon my re-entrance I made 2 F's and a D (my first F's ever). Clearly I was no longer suited for this career path. Many more kicks followed (they are detailed in my memoir). I'm still here 29 years later, so I guess you could assume I picked myself up, sometimes not speedily, but every time. After the first kick, I changed my major to journalism. It took me six more years to finish a B.A., because of the revolving door between school and the hospital.
What I should have done was lower my expectations so that I could experience the success of completing goals again. However, I kept the same yardstick I measured myself with before my illness for a very long time. Consequently, I kicked my own butt. I wrote about apologizing to that very fragile newly ill Jacquese in my memoir.
A healthy recovery sets small achievable goals. This promotes a satisfactory state of wellness in stages for the individual (in my opinion).
I now set achievable goals and am much happier. This was jump-started by finding the right meds. When we found the right meds and they started to work I was ecstatic and on a high for two years. There was only one voice in my head and it was mine and I was sure it was mine. I no longer beieved that people could read my mind. I can't describe the level of comfort and relief I felt. This was four years ago.
Four years later, I am meeting career goals and objectives once again. Of course I am now middle-aged, but I try not to let that bother me (I'm going to be a young 50 in October). I am a peer support specialist, something I have been interested in doing for about 4 years. And, I have learned something, partially from Einstein. Success is relative and so is "wellness and recovery."
I, as a person with a mental illness, am no different. As a child through the beginning of young adulthood, my wellness hinged upon my level of maturity whether physical or philosophical. Unfortunately, this process was interrupted by a mental illness called schizo-affective disorder.
This brought a new spectrum to my thoughts of "wellness and recovery." Suddenly, things I took for granted became goals to achieve. There were some losses I can never recover. I felt that I lost my identity as an intelligent successful young adult in the world. All of a sudden, I was a child again because this was something new to deal with. I had to be able to learn to reasonably master growth in the environment called mental illness.
My first goal was to get back to college and finish my engineering degree. It was my belief that once I did this, I would be okay. I was in denial for a very long time.
This was my first kick in the teeth. Before the onset of the illness, I was a B average student in chemical engineering. Upon my re-entrance I made 2 F's and a D (my first F's ever). Clearly I was no longer suited for this career path. Many more kicks followed (they are detailed in my memoir). I'm still here 29 years later, so I guess you could assume I picked myself up, sometimes not speedily, but every time. After the first kick, I changed my major to journalism. It took me six more years to finish a B.A., because of the revolving door between school and the hospital.
What I should have done was lower my expectations so that I could experience the success of completing goals again. However, I kept the same yardstick I measured myself with before my illness for a very long time. Consequently, I kicked my own butt. I wrote about apologizing to that very fragile newly ill Jacquese in my memoir.
A healthy recovery sets small achievable goals. This promotes a satisfactory state of wellness in stages for the individual (in my opinion).
I now set achievable goals and am much happier. This was jump-started by finding the right meds. When we found the right meds and they started to work I was ecstatic and on a high for two years. There was only one voice in my head and it was mine and I was sure it was mine. I no longer beieved that people could read my mind. I can't describe the level of comfort and relief I felt. This was four years ago.
Four years later, I am meeting career goals and objectives once again. Of course I am now middle-aged, but I try not to let that bother me (I'm going to be a young 50 in October). I am a peer support specialist, something I have been interested in doing for about 4 years. And, I have learned something, partially from Einstein. Success is relative and so is "wellness and recovery."
i am the illness and other falacies
I am a schizophrenic. Wrong. I am a person living with a brain disorder called schizo-affective disorder ( a form of schizophrenia). You never hear people say, "I am cancer" or any other medical illness with the exception of diabetes and there are vital health reasons for that.
I am not my illness. I am so much more. I am a daughter, a sister, a neice, a cousin, a friend. I am a poet, a writer, a peer support specialist, a speaker on mental health issues; I am strong. I am vital. I am eccentric. I am anything I choose to think I am or take on at any point in time.
Everyone has a challenge in their life. We are all really the same. We face adversity. We form theories and philosophies. We act on them. I take a positive road in this journey. My experiences in this life do not only deal with mental illness. Sure, it colored all my thoughts for some time. But, I have to cut it off and say,"I am not my illness."
I am not my circumstance. I have choices no matter what's going on at the time. I refuse (now) to let my illness rule and take my personal power. I will keep trying until the day I die. After all, if we choose to live, this is all anyone can do. We are all the same.
Sometimes, I write poetry specifically about the african-american experience in the light of the history of our treatment in America. I still think this is a very compelling and provocative story giving birth to many issues. But, the bottom line is we do have to come together now to save our country. And not for the purpose of persecution and manipulation of the poor and some ethnicities.
I think we as individuals are a microcosm of the world and if I and everyone else tries to take care of their issues, so will the world. Because, basically we are all the same.
I am not my illness. I am so much more. I am a daughter, a sister, a neice, a cousin, a friend. I am a poet, a writer, a peer support specialist, a speaker on mental health issues; I am strong. I am vital. I am eccentric. I am anything I choose to think I am or take on at any point in time.
Everyone has a challenge in their life. We are all really the same. We face adversity. We form theories and philosophies. We act on them. I take a positive road in this journey. My experiences in this life do not only deal with mental illness. Sure, it colored all my thoughts for some time. But, I have to cut it off and say,"I am not my illness."
I am not my circumstance. I have choices no matter what's going on at the time. I refuse (now) to let my illness rule and take my personal power. I will keep trying until the day I die. After all, if we choose to live, this is all anyone can do. We are all the same.
Sometimes, I write poetry specifically about the african-american experience in the light of the history of our treatment in America. I still think this is a very compelling and provocative story giving birth to many issues. But, the bottom line is we do have to come together now to save our country. And not for the purpose of persecution and manipulation of the poor and some ethnicities.
I think we as individuals are a microcosm of the world and if I and everyone else tries to take care of their issues, so will the world. Because, basically we are all the same.
Monday, July 4, 2011
gratitude thinking
Gratitude is an attitude in acknowledgment of a benefit that one has received or will receive. Most people don't think of recieving something positive from pain, and gratitude is a positive emotion. But scientists tell us that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Whatever is taken from you, you will be given this back and more. I truly believe this. So, when I am going through a difficult time, I count my blessings.
Blessings don't have to be monetary, although they can be. They are anything that gives you joy or has a positive effect on your existence. Like the green of the trees against the very blue sky, someone's smile or laughter, getting that dress you couldn't afford at 75% off (yeah). For me, it always has to do with nature, family or shopping. I also truly believe that my efforts to get published will be rewarded and I will move to Atlanta and buy a house and work as a peer support specialist. I truly believe this and I am speaking it into existence. This is the two-year plan I am in the middle of working now.
Let's look at what has happened just in the past year. I wanted to get picked for the core training class for peer supports. I did. I wanted to get picked from the Wellness Recovery Action Plan workshop to actually get a place in the class. I did. I wanted to work for my present employer ever since I decided I wanted to be a peer support specialist. I got the interview. I got the job. I am pleased. God is blessing me and I know it.
This is not to say that I still don't get discouraged or still go into symptoms, but my gratitude is greater than anything I have to face at this point. I am much stronger for the struggle and I never discount that fact...Okay, not always, but I do come around to it.
Gratitude thinking can take you a long way when you think back on the trauma you've been through in a mental illness. But, there is always something to be grateful for. For me, sometimes, it is knowing that I have a roof over my head, transportation, a job I love and want to make my career, food to eat. If you had known me just four years ago when I was still very severely depressed and hoped to die every day, you would be amazed. I am. I am now thankful for every day in my life and I wouldn't want to miss one.
Of course, medication helped bring about this change. But, it can only relieve my symptoms. It can't keep or sustain Joy. Gratitude does that for me.
Blessings don't have to be monetary, although they can be. They are anything that gives you joy or has a positive effect on your existence. Like the green of the trees against the very blue sky, someone's smile or laughter, getting that dress you couldn't afford at 75% off (yeah). For me, it always has to do with nature, family or shopping. I also truly believe that my efforts to get published will be rewarded and I will move to Atlanta and buy a house and work as a peer support specialist. I truly believe this and I am speaking it into existence. This is the two-year plan I am in the middle of working now.
Let's look at what has happened just in the past year. I wanted to get picked for the core training class for peer supports. I did. I wanted to get picked from the Wellness Recovery Action Plan workshop to actually get a place in the class. I did. I wanted to work for my present employer ever since I decided I wanted to be a peer support specialist. I got the interview. I got the job. I am pleased. God is blessing me and I know it.
This is not to say that I still don't get discouraged or still go into symptoms, but my gratitude is greater than anything I have to face at this point. I am much stronger for the struggle and I never discount that fact...Okay, not always, but I do come around to it.
Gratitude thinking can take you a long way when you think back on the trauma you've been through in a mental illness. But, there is always something to be grateful for. For me, sometimes, it is knowing that I have a roof over my head, transportation, a job I love and want to make my career, food to eat. If you had known me just four years ago when I was still very severely depressed and hoped to die every day, you would be amazed. I am. I am now thankful for every day in my life and I wouldn't want to miss one.
Of course, medication helped bring about this change. But, it can only relieve my symptoms. It can't keep or sustain Joy. Gratitude does that for me.
some words about my Maker
My pastor reminded me why I chose to be a Peer Support Specialist. I want to help those who are standing in the same place I once stood. He said that those who have made their way through the wilderness have an obligation to guide others still in. Of course, I'm a Christian.
I feel that I serve a benevolent God who is always there if I need Him, but it took me a long time to get to the place where I could accept Spiritually what happened to me, in the prime of my life and lasted all of my prime. I sometimes think of how well off I would be financially if I was allowed to steer my course. I had finished 2 1/2 successful years in chemical engineering. I found it hard to accept for a long time that God had another plan. Also, I still grieve because of the psychological pain I have experienced.
My thoughts and actions implied that I was the Supreme Being though. As younger people say, I had to recognize. I had to recognize that in the scheme of things I am a grain of sand. But then also, in God's scheme, I am His child. And, He is concerned about my welfare and only lets me bear as much as I can. He gave me a father and mother who cared for me for decades when I was incapacitated mentally. I'm sure that I was a financial burden. but they stayed by my side.
I have a brother that is a friend and an extended family who give support and some who constantly "have my back." Also, I have gotten to know my parents as people and that would not have happened if I had finished college sane like I wanted to, felt I had a right to.
I had to recognize that everything negative and evil in the world is of the devil. There is no other way to see it. God delivered me in His time. Some of my agnostic friends would say I should be angry. And I was for a time. But, I have grown Spiritually and have come to realize that perhaps I could be of help to someone else and that God's time is not mine. "He may not come when you want Him, but He's always right on time."
My grandparents told me at the beginning of my illness that this was God's Will for me and that I have to accept it. I thought they were crazier than I was at the time. But, I was not Spiritually mature enough to receive what they were saying to me. I would have suffered much less had I accepted my illness right away and submitted myself before the presence of God, the Supreme Being. If I had humbled myself, a lot of my problems would not have been so manifested.
Now, don't get me wrong, I grew up in the Church. But, it is one thing to go to Church and another thing to begin to understand the Master's plan for you in your life. He is your Creator, your Maker and it is His Plan that has to play out.
Just a word I thought I'd pass along. Of course, when I'm working, I can't approach spirituality from a purely Christian point of view. And, some poeple are agnostic. But, I always want to ask a person if they believe in a Higher Power. This makes the illness so much easier to accept. If you believe in a Higher Power, then you accept your illness within the confines of His Plan.
I feel that I serve a benevolent God who is always there if I need Him, but it took me a long time to get to the place where I could accept Spiritually what happened to me, in the prime of my life and lasted all of my prime. I sometimes think of how well off I would be financially if I was allowed to steer my course. I had finished 2 1/2 successful years in chemical engineering. I found it hard to accept for a long time that God had another plan. Also, I still grieve because of the psychological pain I have experienced.
My thoughts and actions implied that I was the Supreme Being though. As younger people say, I had to recognize. I had to recognize that in the scheme of things I am a grain of sand. But then also, in God's scheme, I am His child. And, He is concerned about my welfare and only lets me bear as much as I can. He gave me a father and mother who cared for me for decades when I was incapacitated mentally. I'm sure that I was a financial burden. but they stayed by my side.
I have a brother that is a friend and an extended family who give support and some who constantly "have my back." Also, I have gotten to know my parents as people and that would not have happened if I had finished college sane like I wanted to, felt I had a right to.
I had to recognize that everything negative and evil in the world is of the devil. There is no other way to see it. God delivered me in His time. Some of my agnostic friends would say I should be angry. And I was for a time. But, I have grown Spiritually and have come to realize that perhaps I could be of help to someone else and that God's time is not mine. "He may not come when you want Him, but He's always right on time."
My grandparents told me at the beginning of my illness that this was God's Will for me and that I have to accept it. I thought they were crazier than I was at the time. But, I was not Spiritually mature enough to receive what they were saying to me. I would have suffered much less had I accepted my illness right away and submitted myself before the presence of God, the Supreme Being. If I had humbled myself, a lot of my problems would not have been so manifested.
Now, don't get me wrong, I grew up in the Church. But, it is one thing to go to Church and another thing to begin to understand the Master's plan for you in your life. He is your Creator, your Maker and it is His Plan that has to play out.
Just a word I thought I'd pass along. Of course, when I'm working, I can't approach spirituality from a purely Christian point of view. And, some poeple are agnostic. But, I always want to ask a person if they believe in a Higher Power. This makes the illness so much easier to accept. If you believe in a Higher Power, then you accept your illness within the confines of His Plan.
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