Meditation

I pray for peace.  I pray that we can all pause and find our words carefully.  We have not adapted properly to changes in the speed of human communication and I feel we need those special places in our lives where we learn ways to pause to build one another up, rather than tear people down.  

I am pausing for careful consideration of so, so many things.  And while I pause here, I am going to continue my efforts to connect and collaborate in mental health healing communities.  It's a lot to juggle when there are bills to be paid, but it must be done.

Why?

I always wonder why people treat each other with cruelty and then have to remember that my frustrations witnessing anger, violence and rage in others is from a lens of past trauma.

I'm working hard, so damn hard in therapy, in practicing mindfulness, in trying to connect in support groups and hopefully network with professionals who respect me for working so hard to improve my life despite all odds.

I feel at this point, all there is for me to do is become an activist for mental health.

Feeling Ok

I very groundedly (is that a word?) mentioned his name in therapy yesterday.

I told the story of the time I played a song of his for my husband, and tried to use it as a way for him to try and understand the depths of my childhood memories in terms of my journey in mental health.

And how my husband didn't get it.

Obviously I'm not going to blab here about our personal troubles.  I'm all love. I'm all peace.  I'm all support, even when being supportive doesn't make sense.

There are so many things in this life out of my control, and there is so much pressure for me to be GREAT.  And if I spend my time focusing on that, my depression grows to excruciating lows.

I have been OVERWHELMED by too many things in my life.  

I'm just a simple lady trying my best to live a good life.

I'm spending the day working on some simple paintings and simple collages.  It's my therapy.

Also listening to good music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOhLbA-B-bE

Independence Day

I finished a painting today.  Two years ago on July 4th I was encountering severe anxiety due to my trial period of the antipsychotic Latuda.  I was sick to my stomach during the transition.  I ended up spending two hours leaning over the bathroom sink dry heaving and trying to breathe through a panic attack.  I begged my husband to take me to the hospital, but he refused because he was afraid of what medicine they'd dope me up with again.   Anyway, I survived the allergic reaction or mere panic attack, take your pick, and here I am two years later stable and okay on the first medicine.

I've gained a lot of weight but I guess being heavy set is a fair trade off for stability.

I'm trying my best to just think of myself as 'strong.'

Anyway, I picked up the painting I began two years ago and added some painted words to embellish it.  My thoughts really, looking back on my life thus far and what I've learned.

My paintings are not worthy of being shown anywhere except maybe in a classroom for psychologists or something sad like that, but I'm going to keep doing them anyway.

It's my therapy.  

Moving on and forgiveness...

I ran back to my hometown area for some July 4th festivities and ended up having a good frank talk with my mom on the drive back to the city.

There are many things we don't agree on but I've been telling her about what interests me most in community mental health and she seemed to listen.

Also had a good chat with my uncle about kids and their poor work ethic and inability to honor commitments.

Despite certain things that I don't see eye to eye with my family on, they did instill good work ethics in me, and how can I not be grateful for that?  

As I complete the workshop im participating in, my views on things sharpen and become stronger.  Mental health is crucial.  It's not to be used as an excuse for poor judgments or it's not to be abused and stigmatized by powerful media forces.  It's about getting into the community and reaching people who are struggling with their own mental health issues (yes, sometimes originating in family/childhood hardships) and letting them know ITS OKAY TO ASK FOR HELP!!!  

And as I was discussing with my mom tonight, it takes time to get the right, individual treatment for an individual.  It takes someone to stop and listen.  It takes trust.

Most of all, it takes kindness.

Coping

At the end of the day

I'm grateful for a roof over my head

Kindness from one stranger

Though two or three measures would have made the day seem brighter

You never ever know

What the person right there is going through or what they went through 

And while kindness gets scoffed

To me it's the only thing that makes sense

In such an anger-fueled world

Community versus 'out there'

I'm slowly starting to feel the impact and importance of being a part of a community.  There are some road blocks having to do with difficult, strained relationships that I am not a part of but associated with nonetheless due to work, but I'm trying really hard.

And I hope I am accepted.

I am a small-scale person.  I enjoy emotional intimacy in relationships and supportive networks and given the opportunity, I choose the empathic route each and every time.

I'm not a large scale person.  I don't feel safe 'out there.'  There are dozens of different agendas and schemes and who knows what humans will do to try and incorporate or use you for their own selfish needs.  I'm not being cynical; I have experienced this behavior first hand!  It's scary and aggressive and mean.  

I only want to surround myself with good people who contribute positivity.

The only thing I know how to do is work small.  And it's a better way to build trusting relationships and TAKE THE PROPER TIME to get to know people.  God knows there's too too much distrust and judgment in the world and if we took the extra time to cultivate relationships then I feel more secure.

Anyway, I'm working towards bigger ideas but for my own mental health and sanity, I still need Good Friends.

Don't we all?

Painting

I'm trying out painting again.  Even though I am not a master artist, I put my heart into what I paint.  Some of them take years to finish.  

I like the transformative, therapeutic sensation I feel when I paint.  While writing also serves as a release and a way to organize my sometimes scattered thoughts, painting allows for an evening of temperament when I'm feeling overwhelmed and stressed.

Which is often.  I am often overwhelmed and stressed.

I don't know where any of these paintings belong.  Not in a museum because people would just laugh at them.  They would criticize my poor technique and inability to compete with true masters.  Not in a gallery because they aren't really worth much money.  Not in someone's home, because they aren't aesthetically pleasing to the eye.  

Maybe in a collective with other so-called mentally ill artists, in a special feature where some cultivated people think it's just so neat and terrific that these poor mentally ill people are just fascinating.

And entertaining.  Can't forget entertaining.

Busy

I have been dealing with issues of exhaustion as well as insomnia in the past several years and am still trying to get a handle on it.  Again, my full time work and mental health advocacy endeavors take up much of time, leaving little space left to do something, hmmm, poignant I guess is the word.

I have formed a lot of philosophies over the long years about what success might mean to an assortment of people.  I know so many people struggling financially and many others who have no clue what that feels like.  There's much to be discussed, much more than my mere words written here.

What does success mean to you?

Honesty

Well, I'm working on some plans that are keeping me busy and hopefully not to a point of sheer overwhelming panic.

Living in the here and now...that's what I have to do to get by.  Still, I feel like there are others waiting for me to do what they expect me to do and getting angry at me...I don't know? 

What I get angry about is all those people with GIANT EXPECTATIONS of me don't know what I have been through in regards to my mental illness.  I have had so many setbacks to my stability and nobody seems to appreciate how much I've accomplished holding down a job and trying to be a loyal employee and honor my commitments.  I'm trying to do a good job, and be around people, and use my experiences to try and help other people.  Why isn't that good enough for people?

Maybe I have a simple life because that's all I can handle?  I'd love to bridge more friendships with authentic friends who love me for who I am, and to whom I can be an authentic friend in return.