Tag Archives: #depression

Living With Addiction Day 17 ~ Abuse

Blameless Faith

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Shame

Broken Behaviors of Abuse

Day 17 of 40

“What the hell could you possibly have to say that has any merit or even worth listening to?”  Those piercing words coming from my husband as I was sharing my excitement and dreams due to the rewards and recognition I was receiving for my hard work still haunt me today through certain triggers tapping into my insecurities. 

When exactly was my faith defined and how were my chains of abuse severed that set me free from the bondage of living under the various forms of abuse?  The last adulterous affair that proceeded shortly after the above-mentioned comment left me completely devoid of trust and emotion while being stripped down naked, exposing every battle scar ever afflicted upon my being and the very core of being a woman!

The remnants concealed behind my veiled face painted an eerily familiar and devastating silhouette.  The tears projecting from the flood gates of my soul permeated the chiffon and organza material that had been beautifully hiding my flaws of imperfection and rejection.  Now I was exposed again; this time after giving up EVERYTHING near and dear in search for that perfect Love!

When I walked down the aisle in my beautiful princess wedding dress, like so many Beautiful Beloveds, my rose-colored glasses projected a life through the lens of great expectations and naivety hope filled with nothing but mere promises assuring love and fidelity, along with being cherished and treasured until death do us part.

As my Veil of Shame exposed the deep recesses of despair coming from broken promises, my mind suddenly transitioned to the reflection mirroring the trauma in finding another woman’s undergarments underneath the backseat of my new vehicle that was purchased as a congratulatory gift for passing the state exam flashing before my very eyes?

I sit on the cold kitchen tile feeling defeated and full of dread and shame.  Why doesn’t he love me?  Everyone says I’m so beautiful and bright, but why is everyone laughing at me again? 

The words burning from his lover’s phone call cannot escape the speed in which my blood is being recycled over and over and over again!  My heart palpitates, except this time it requires the urgent need of the defibrillator because my tattered and bleeding heart no longer knows how to beat on its own. 

The words coming from the man on the other side of the telephone interrupts my plans and reasoning as to why I came home early from work just to get dolled up and surprise my love with another scrumptious meal.  His words pulled the rug underneath my very feet leaving me unable to stand, much less deny, the horror from the searing words penetrating through the telephone.  My husband was having an affair with another man… 

His lover or one-night stand was giddy as he was talking and sharing his joy of union with MY HUSBAND!  He even went so far as to say he couldn’t wait to meet me because my husband told his lover that he was living with his neurotic sister.  Neurotic?  On a lighter note, maybe someone could share with me what scorned women do because that aspect escaped me!

How is a woman supposed to cope with the loss of a lack of sexual union between husband and wife with all the broken promises that were filled with nothing but deceit and lies to cover over a lifestyle of being sexually confused amongst other things?

I am only sharing this tidbit because I know many Beloveds who have for whatever reason lost this beautiful union in their marriages and also women who found out the hard way that their husbands were just not who they said they were because of their lifestyle choices and closet living. 

I will share that for years it devastated me and it stripped me of every last blood vessel announcing my beauty and femininity as a woman.  I carried the shame, of course, and the blame that it was MY FAULT!  That was my go-to resource that superficially kept me going; but after time, when being forced to deal with the suppressed pain underneath the layers of superficiality, it left me feeling anything but beautiful and/or sexy.

Being honest here, even though I know who God says I am now, and I look back and see what “a waste of a beautiful woman” I was (yep, comment came straight from my doctor that added daggers into my lifeless heart as it was), how that didn’t push me back over the edge off the cliff is a testament to being wrapped up in God’s love, healed and sustained by His saving grace found through my reliance and relationship with Him.  Waste?  Honey, I’m still alive; just saying…  ♥♥

My great love affair with the Lord started after this season of betrayal.  I love Jesus with my total being, and because I’m speaking the truth here, I may have forgiven my ex-husband for his betrayal in many facets of his life, but I will never forget!  I still wish he could have been hung by you know what; just saying…  🙂

When our spouses have affairs on us, it’s hard to move forward, but it can be done through therapy and a whole lot of grace extended down for both parties.  Trust is something that has to be earned after such betrayal.  My prayers go out towards all the Beautiful Beloveds who have walked in these same shoes; it is painful, but God will mend our broken hearts.  He is ALWAYS FAITHFUL and just asks for a little of our time!

Until next time, never forget…

Thank You For Being Beautiful You!

 

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Living With Addiction Day 15 ~ Broken Behavior

Blameless Stairs to Freedom

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Shame

The Broken Behavior

Day 15 of 40

Wow, it seems like it’s been months since I last wrote.  Here I was on a roll and the typical tactics of the enemy intervened and attacked causing great pain.  Thankfully I will endure by fulfilling this 4o-day challenge as I press forward and remember where my strength comes from.  I just have to grab ahold of that life jacket filled with grace and tender mercies flowing from our Heavenly Father full of perseverance and power.  Can you relate?

Shame is a sad thing, isn’t it?  The broken behaviors that develop because of it, especially the insecurities, addictions and depression, are devastating!  My heart bleeds for my family members who live their lives hiding behind all that unmerited shame.  My wholehearted love and compassion especially grieves for the Beloved who was the blessed miracle that came from all the sin and shame and never understood her worth and value.  Not only can I identify with her on so many levels, but she was a precious gift and beautiful blessing.

So how has shame intervened in my life through all this broken behavior?  I know I eluded to it briefly in Day 14 that my life paralleled this broken behavior of shame through denial and the running from such problems so I guess that’s my intro into and navigation to start sharing another dark period of my life that was filled with deceit, infidelity, and many forms of abuse.  Abuse can be a really hard topic to talk about on a blog because its effects are so profound and stem from many facets concerning physical, verbal, sexual, financial and emotional abuse!   I will try my best.

I never could understand why some people could just walk up to me in the past and say that they could tell I was either a domestic violence warrior and/or survivor.  I mean, it’s not like I wore a T-shirt announcing such or even had it taped to my forehead, but…  The shame victims of abuse carry in either their body language, clothing, or mannerisms announce loudly what we often work so hard trying to cover up!   This is when being exposed and running naked is freedom at her finest hour!  Hallelujah!

Unless you’ve lived under some form of abuse, it is very hard to identify and understand the torture us precious souls are subjected to and live under.  It’s still a battle I visit every so often myself with some of my family; it makes me quiver and shake and want to throw up in believing I actually lived under that fear and control for decades.  I praise God for the severance of that cell of hell. 

It’s a hard cycle to break, and one in which requires awareness and sensitivity, and a whole lot of love and compassion; but we can all be healed by God’s Great Love through the sharing of our own stories and struggles.  Abuse is subtle and once it locks you up, the chains will hold you captive in a cell of hell with no window or door until you allow the Lord to sever that stronghold of shame and abuse.  I know, I lived in that cell of hell myself once upon a time.

It’s hard for people to conceive how hard it is to walk away from being in a cell of hell when that’s all you have ever known.  It’s hard to look at the removal and freedom of the shackles that once held you captive and are no longer a part of your life from entering that door of freedom with its doors wide open along with the warmth drawing you near.  That warmth and illumination flowing from the freedom outside those four walls is unfamiliar and scary because all you have ever known is the heaviness from the chill that has weighed you down and existed on the cell’s floor as you’ve crawled towards freedom.

Because healthy relationships and life inside the cell of hell never offered glimpses of paradise outside those four walls, many abuse victims never break free from the bondage of being a victim because, for one, they’re afraid; two, people just don’t talk about it due to shame and lack of awareness; and three, they do not realize what their worth and value is to society because they have never met Love Himself, Jesus Christ!  Their lives are based and built on shame.

Dealing with this stronghold of shame for deliverance meant, and will always mean, that my walk and reliance would solely be based on God and that I would need to learn how to go deeper with my lifelong interaction and relationship with Him, while relying on the promises of Jesus to break every chain holding my family captive through affliction.

Relying on God in times of stress and troubles are our only source of consolation and strength because this severance calls for a job that only Jesus can heal.  That’s where we get a glimpse of the majestic beauty that comes from the ashes of our pain this side of heaven!  Enjoy one of my favorites from Jesus Culture, There Is Power In The Name of Jesus; Break Every Chain!

Until next time, never forget…

Thank You For Being Beautiful You!

Living With Addiction Day 14 ~ Shame Broken Behavior

Blameless Love

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Shame

The Broken Behavior

Day 14 of 40

The piercing chill arising from a lonely Beloved’s heart who longed to be touched and loved on was no match for the brooding blizzard within.  This Beloved’s desperation found her tears leading her adrift until the chill from an approaching arctic blast forced her to seek shelter in an unexpected tavern occupied by deceptive sojourners. 

Midwest storms were known for their frigid temperatures due to the arctic air that rushes down from the backsides of snowstorms, but this arctic blast was no match for the impending freeze-up that would last for generations to come.

One step into the tavern confirmed that not even the biting chill from the wind outside could be compared with the brokenness existing from the patrons seeking shelter from the storm’s wrath.

With the chill brooding in the Beloved’s broken heart, she found her way to the warmth of the bar.  As she began to sit down, she unwrapped her fur scarf and asked the bartender for a shot of whiskey to diffuse the frigid dampness in the room.

This unraveling of the layers between the clothing and the warmth from the whiskey within announced the Beloved’s beauty that drew attention unlike anything she had ever experienced.  What started out as innocent shelter from the arctic blast led to decisions that would effect many hearts, many families, for many generations to come. 

Two hearts united together by whiskey during an arctic blast should have offered a life leading to marriage with the white picket fence and a couple of kids.  Maybe in a perfect world!  But coming from a tavern of deception…

Hundreds of years ago, living with addiction became predominant.  The stronghold of physical abuse and being subjected to it through control and manipulation bled through to subsequent generations.  There was also infidelity acceptance; this man was married with his own children.

Here is a married, abusive, alcoholic man promising love to a beautiful and desperate Beloved with a broken heart.  An affair ensues, but when the Beloved finds out she is pregnant, she also finds out that the man she gave her heart to is married. 

Back in that era, not only was premarital sex forbidden, but an unwed mother from an adulterous affair would receive ridicule and be forsaken.  This new life that promised new beginnings started a whole new arctic chill and avalanche that would take out and devastate many generations to come.

To me, the birth of a child is a blessing, no matter how it’s conceived.  I cannot imagine the pain associated with living a life filled with lies brought on to cover up an affair!  This child grew up living with the shame brought on from being a byproduct of an adulterous affair and that her parents chose to run and hide to a new area to get married to cover up the shame of the pregnancy and adulterous affair.  May I introduce you to Mr. Shame at his finest hour!

The shame in living with the secret that you are a byproduct of an adulterous affair was destructive.  The damages continue to be the predominant force and stronghold over my family!  This sounds so much like my own life.  How about yours?  The cycle continues.

The shame this Beloved carried kept her locked up in a cell of hell.  She became emotionally absent because she feared that the truth of her blessed inception would be found out.  It created layers of deception and rage throughout the family dynamics because, for one, her father was a womanizer, an alcoholic, and an abusive man drowning in his own misery and alcohol.  We know what scorned women do, but carrying the weight of such shame is unfathomable!

If I could see you today, Beautiful, the Beloved who lived your life through the lens of shame, I would hold your hand and share that being a byproduct of an affair has no reflection on the amazing and loving woman you are.  There is no reason to be ashamed.  You are a blessing to your family, though you may not hear the gentle whispers of love and affirmation through the concealment in your cell of hell. 

Your children still arise and call you blessed because of all the love you poured into them with the best of your ability battling depression and shame.  Even though your heart may be severely tattered from all the hell you lived through for so many years underneath the weight of torment, I get it.  I wish I could erase and pull out all that pain to spring new life from your heaviness due to carrying and hiding from this family secret that has no bearing on you.

I want to say thank you for blessing me with your unique and valuable gifts of love and compassion for others, intelligence, style and sophistication that will continue to live on through many generations.  I am proud to carry your DNA.  I love you like so many do.  That barrier that was built because of shame that robbed you of a life filled with peace and fulfillment, it’s coming down in the name of Jesus Christ!

Beautiful Beloved, you are forgiven.  Just ask!  You are so loved and precious!  Your life leaves a legacy for the beginnings of severing this stronghold of living with addiction!  I love you.  This stronghold deliverance belongs to the Lord!  Jesus has the key and He has unlocked the ball and chains that have held us all captive for so many generations.  Rejoice, your life has meaning!  We have come for a time such as this; our legacies leave love, strength and deliverance!  Love covers all!

Until next time…

Living With Addiction Day 13 ~ Shame

Blameless Beach Peace 2

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Shame

Day 13 of 40

So what else contributed to this California beach girl who presumably had it all, you know, looks, brains, and popularity, to end her own life by driving off a cliff after repeated failed attempts?  Was it another he?  Well…  Shame is his name and his game!

Suicide and depression are just the underbellies of this beast called shame, especially when there’s a controlling link and lineage in living with addiction.

What is shame?  Webster’s definition states shame as “a painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety”; but more importantly, it’s “a condition of humiliating disgrace or disrepute.”  Aaahhhhh… that not being trusted because of humiliation or respected by others that disrepute claims.  Isn’t that the “What-would-people-say-if-they-found-out syndrome?” 

Kind of like the aftermath:  Run, hide, cover it up so no one will find out.  Throw those skeletal remains into the closet and slam it shut, making sure to lock it with bolt and key.  Afterwards, run down to the river and throw the key into the deepest part of the raging current and never mention it again!  Cover-up is essential, no matter the cost!  The shadows of darkness…

What kind of life is that?  Shame had reared its ugly head for far too long in my life and my family’s lineage.  That Persona of Perfection!  Reiteration of why my addictive behaviors and chronic symptomatology of depression and suicidal tendencies were overlooked combined with the humiliation from driving off the cliff being swept underneath the rug, so to speak, never to be spoken of again unless controlling reminders of the darkened shadow emerged.

I get it!  I mean, I own up to my own choices and behaviors and I have taken complete ownership of what transpired.  That’s why I’ve never stopped working to get to the core of what has held my family captive of such darkness since the Lord healed me of my depression.  I am completely aware of this problem and I want these dysfunctional strongholds severed.

In raising my own sons who did things at times that made me cringe and brought humiliation; the cycle of shame continued by running and hiding for shelter to get rid of the evidence, you know, those skeletal remains, except for tackling the truth and reason for the problem. 

Pride, denial, S-H-A-M-E!  That was my comfort zone, familiar go-to, spend exhausting chunks of time covering it up instead of finding a solution for severance because that’s what I knew and my choices and decisions reflected that.

The amount of time we waste on covering up our mistakes, our true lives, our decisions and choices, rob us of the life that God intended for us to live.  I think about all the shame I carried throughout my life and will always be working on my own junk so I can be the best Beloved that God designed me to be. 

That shame did not stop ruling me once I became healed of my depression.  In fact, it grew!  That shame just announced more profoundly the worth and value I placed on the wrong sources of identity; marriage, beauty, family, career, prestige, social status, you name it!

This Shame Game led me to stay in relationships and environments that were unhealthy, yet familiar, with addiction running rampant through control and abuse day in and day out.

Remember how I mentioned before how addictive behaviors are a magnet for destruction?  That chaos that spins the web of destruction in abusive relationships is by far the hardest battle to survive and break free from.  My body cringes and shutters when I’m reminded of what I allowed in my life; chaos, addiction, abuse, infidelity, betrayal; it goes on!

Shame is like an article of clothing we put on everyday so we’re not naked and exposed!  Unless we realize how natural and controlling it is over our lives, we’ll never truly understand what the cycle of living with addiction involves.

Tomorrow I will share a Story of Shame that has not only effected many generations of Beloveds negatively through shame, but it robbed the most amazing and beautiful woman (whom I’m honored and proud to be a genetic part of ) of the life God created and designed her to have. 

She lived underneath the Veil of Shame and curse of what addiction robs without embracing her beauty, charm, intelligence and persona of style and sophistication.  She received her life as a curse to carry in shame and secret instead of embracing the beautiful woman she truly was!  I was saddened to find out how a life was lived behind closed doors!

Until next time…

 

Living With Addiction Day 11 ~ Depression and Belonging

Blameless Window of Blessings

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 11 of 40

News Alert:  That mask I lived behind for many years showed the deep darkness to what controlled my very existence.  Depression is a lonely torment.  The enemy plants these tiny seeds of doubt into our minds with words like “You don’t belong, you’ll never be good enough or pretty enough.”  This scheme of deceit creeps into our minds and hearts while this full-blown warfare develops solely to steal, kill and destroy.

Somehow, some way, I saw the hand of God extending down from heaven as I was driving off that cliff and grabbed ahold of it as my car smashed and bounced off the wall of rocks.  Jesus had been patiently waiting for me to grab ahold of His help so I would understand why He came; to set us ALL free, those who would believe, so that we may have life and have it to the fullest (John 10:10).  It was then that this weapon of depression and force of destruction that was being formed against me lost its power during my final attempt at suicide.

While I was unconscious due to my skull fracture, I witnessed that bright light that some near-death experiences receive as I witnessed my life flashing before my very eyes.  I was touched clearly by the hand of God; how else could I survive flying through the air 350 feet after going through steel beams and bars and smashing into the cliff’s rocks, not to mention living through the force of the impact that compressed and wrapped my remains around the twisted metal of what was once my Volkswagen Bug.

So what happened to good ‘ole Scott, that dreamy boy, that some of you have asked?  You know, I don’t know.  I will never forget the “words” from his get-well card saying, “If you ever want to drop in anywhere, drop in at my house.”  He said I looked beautiful at the concert and disappeared right afterwards.  Due to our amazing seats, he was unable to get up front with us, but that he was behind me the whole time watching us a dozen rows back.

My parents and I moved to a completely new area shortly after my release from both hospitalizations and I never saw him again.  The enemy is good about robbing us of blessings and gifts that were ours to begin with to open, but we let doubt, insecurities, and fears, you name it, rob us of our value and our gifts intended just for that day.

Since Isaiah 54:17 reassures us that no weapon formed against us shall prosper, then it is my duty and responsibility to believe and walk out my faith trusting God at His Word.  This will require moving forward in great expectation and obedience so I may receive the deliverance from this weapon called depression however He chooses to orchestrate it.

God is faithful; He brought my deliverance and healing, but it was not without great cost and pain; the death of Jesus Christ.  I’d call it nothing short of a miracle.  Being healed by Jesus offers us a lifelong journey of hope and joy while giving us glimpses into what heaven will really be like. 

When we encounter this Great Love affair on a daily basis breathing, living and applying His Word to our lives, we become redeemed and transformed and our old strongholds and insecurities that genetically shackled us are removed and we become restored and renewed to being these Beautiful Beloveds God designed and created us to be.

It also helps us love others, even those that have brought us harm.  I want to live and love like 1 Corinthians 13 tells us; through kindness, humility, patience, and by being one who does not easily anger and holds no record of wrongdoing while seeing the best in others through the lens of the forgiveness that was bestowed upon me during the outpouring of love and redemption.

Having a relationship with the Lord changed my perception on who I was!  I finally belonged, to the King of kings and Lord of lords, mind you, and experienced the Love that we all yearn for; the Love I was even going to die for, but Jesus took my place instead and rescued me from myself.  This is called our Father’s Love!  He’s a good, good Father.

Until next time…

 

Living With Addiction Day 10 ~ Depression

Blameless Depression I'm Fine

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 10 of 40

Today started like any other summer day before my senior year in high school; I took a shower, smoked a joint and cigarette and headed down to the beach to surf and sunbathe.  Today was special, though; there was a new boy in town named Scott and tonight was Pablo Cruz’s concert at the Del Mar Fairgrounds.  Scott had the hots for me and said he would meet me down at the concert after work.

I scurried about in order to catch a ride on the morning surf and soak up as many sun rays possible needed to obtain that “been-at-the-beach-all-day look” with the peeling red nose and face to contrast and compliment my long, blonde hair!  That’s what looked hot and defined us surfer chicks!

Today held the promise of hope and love.  After my longstanding feelings of rejection and abandonment with my family, the constant jeers of being laughed at and not fitting in, coupled with bouts of depression unattended to for a couple of years and the breakup of a long-term boyfriend; there were glimpses of sunshine peeking through the dark clouds from a dreamy boy who was way out of my league. 

Scott had curly brown hair, green eyes, around 21, and even had surfboard racks on top of his BMW.  He said I was hot!  He made my heart palpitate.  My heart was beating again and I felt alive.  I couldn’t wait to receive more of his CPR.

After the beach, I showered with intention and detail to look beautiful in my size 3 Jordache jeans that were long enough to compliment my 5’11” frame and wear cowboy boots.  I looked hot, just like a supermodel!  I jumped into my V.W. Bug feeling beautiful and picked up a couple of girlfriends and headed down to the fairgrounds.  We drank some beer and smoked a few joints before we entered the concert. 

Upon arrival at the concert, we were fortunate enough to get escorted and seated in Row 3 right smack at center stage.  Every band wants a group of screaming teenage girls upfront.  The whole time we were talking and laughing, my mind became fixated on the whereabouts of Scott and it interfered with my ability to have fun engaging with my girlfriends.  The concert was getting jammed packed full of concertgoers and still no Scott.

The feelings of not being pretty enough and good enough was the perfect environment for the brooding of the storm.  Each emotional dagger of rejection were all consuming, turning the gusts of shame and walls of torment into deafening sounds diffusing the emergency warning system of the impending tornado.  Being tossed to and fro in the quiet eye of the tornado left no time to hear or acknowledge the warning sounds that this storm was about to implode even though it was louder than thousands of screaming cheers as the concert began. 

I started looking at everyone in the concert smiling, singing and dancing, the band focusing directly on us girls upfront, and I felt a sense of loss and gloom.  It wasn’t the spin of the tornado that was making me sick, it was because I felt alone in this crowd and no one could hear my screams for help and panic.  I didn’t belong and I didn’t fit in and I was scared to death.  My mind kept focusing on trying to find Scott in the chaos because my heart needed help. 

Once the concert was over, we headed over to the restroom.  I took one look at myself in the mirror and became horrified.  Between the sweat and oil from the heat of the lights and stage, the profusion of sweat from being one sardine amongst a compressed can, I looked horrible.  I no longer resembled the perfection of the model I put on beforehand.

The beads of sweat bonded my hair like glue instead of free-flowing locks that could be flicked back and forth; my black mascara resembled more of a tarantula instead of highlighting my green eyes; my peeling red and flaky white nose resembled my white eyebrows stuck to my burned forehead.  No wonder Scott stood me up.  I felt ugly and not worthy of love.  I had to get out of there.  I couldn’t let anyone see me like this and I needed to hide.

I told my friends that I wasn’t feeling good, so we needed to go home.  Everyone was laughing.  They wanted to stay and continue to have fun.  They didn’t look gross like me, so they stayed.  I walked to my car alone.  I felt ashamed because everyone was laughing in large groups and I was alone running to hide.  I felt unworthy because of my appearance.  Why do we place so much significance on our looks?

I got into my Volkswagen and headed home.  I cried the whole way home, but no one was there when I arrived.  All the thoughts, emotional daggers and flaming arrows that were penetrating my heart and controlling my mind became desperate. 

I drove to my favorite spot, Swami’s Beach, and circled the parking lot a couple of times after finding no one to love on me and snapped.  Before I knew it, I was driving through the protective barrier and wall built with steel beams and bars free-flying through the air bouncing off the rocks landing onto the ocean floor.  All I remember is seeing a bright light with my life flashing before me.

I wanted out of my cell of hell.  People with depression who don’t receive help can get this low.  There’s nothing to be ashamed about.  I was screaming “help me,” but I could not find a solution to ease the pain except for this final attempted suicide.  Thank you, Jesus!

This is Swami’s Beach.  Beautiful, isn’t it?  Hard to really gauge the cliff’s height, but I believe it’s a little over 350 feet.  I wrote this from what I can remember as to what set me over the edge, so to speak, 37 years ago.  I want to share that I have been completely healed by God’s Divine grace and mercy of depression many years ago.  Today I’m living in freedom and flying free of yesterday’s guilt, today’s fears, and tomorrow’s grave.  All because God loves me just the way I am!! 

There is hope for everyone suffering with depression; please just don’t let it get as far as I did!  This was my drug of choice, depression, living with addiction and the generational strongholds.

Until next time…

Living With Addiction Day 9 ~ Depression

Blameless Depression 9

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 9 of 40

You’re a brave soul to continue on here with me.  Not every person that is depressed and suicidal feels and goes through what I went through or suffers these symptoms.  This is how my generational stronghold of depression started manifesting itself with more than just the subtle cues announcing I needed help!

My first attempt to take my life was to find out what was at my disposal in my house.  Easy way out, I thought, was to take as many pills laying around the house as possible.  It’s important I deviate here for a moment…

Parents, please don’t deny this:  With peer pressure the way it is today, us parents have a tendency to think, “Oh, my child will never take my pain meds.”  You’re gravely wrong.  Even if they don’t ingest them personally, they may take a couple here and there and sell them or their friends will know you have them and rob you blindly.  Yes, this happened to me as a parent.  $20 today gets you a couple Vicodin or one Oxycontin.

Continuing…  I started taking all the medications that were in my parent’s cupboard.  I think back at how desperate I was, I even swallowed enema suppositories.  I had no idea at the time what they were.  Pretty gross, huh?  I might nervously laugh at that now due to discomfort in being transparent, but that’s how low and rock bottom I had hit.

My parents were loaded with medications.  No wonder I kept throwing up every day for weeks; it was the meds.  All this did was add more ammo to the fuel lines of depression because I really felt like a failure; I was unsuccessful at taking my own life.  Epic failure!

I then started slashing my wrists.  At first it was just a get-back-at-you vice towards a boy so I could write a love note goodbye in my blood.  Pretty morbid, huh? 

Teenagers today are often cutting their skin to release some of the tension; a little different than slashing their wrists.  They will have fine-line scratches, almost like a two- to three-inch-long cat scratch.  They diffuse their anxiety and mental loneliness through a quick cut; their drug of choice. 

My slashing only made matters worse with the anger coming from my family which brought on more isolation time and removal from others because of the punishment:  I was grounded and left alone to suffer the consequences in my room. 

Please remember to never leave a depressant and suicidal individual alone in their cell of hell because all it does is give them time to contemplate and conjure up their next move.

After many days of forethought and preparation, occupying time and space, I decided to slash my wrists this time by going straight across the wrist in order to sever any nerves that were in the wrist area so I could bleed out.  I obviously had found books during schooltime showing how to properly cut and bleed out because the internet did not exist back then.  My initial attempts were vertically imposed; this time I would cut horizontally.

I inflicted the greatest of pain imaginable to myself here because I somehow or another felt using dull razors while digging deep to lacerate both wrists over and over again would bring instant death.  The agonizing scream was torturous itself.  I still cringe thinking about this 40 years later. 

This time the paramedics came.  I was taken to the hospital and stitched up.  My slashing my wrists was an obvious “I need help,” but when there’s generational strongholds here, we become numb and blinded to the loud pleas for help because it gets dismissed.

This might be morbid, even horrifying, to read, but this pales in comparison to what some people feel and experience.  Depression is real and many have no idea they’re afflicted or how to break free.  It starts subtle and has become an epidemic in today’s society because of the advances in technology that offer the ease to cover up and isolate.

As I was trying to console a girlfriend whose daughter tried to end her life by ingesting bleach, I was sharing with her that the parents cannot carry the shame and blame for what their children do.  Yes, it is the parent’s responsibility to seek out help if there are signs or symptoms, but when we let shame and fear and the veil of generational strongholds keep us from intervening and seeking help by sweeping it underneath the rug, God help us!  As far as my girlfriend goes, most of us were oblivious to her daughter’s despair and depression.  

We all get depressed; that’s a natural part of life, to a certain extent.  Sadly, some stay in this rut and isolate and can’t shake it and need help.  There’s nothing to be ashamed about.  Don’t let darkness prevail here. 

Good time to close.  I’m preaching and not sharing.  Tomorrow’s might be offensive to some as I try to be as raw and candid about everything I went through and felt the day I drove myself off the cliff.

Until next time…