Two Sides to the Coin of Depression

I was saddened to hear of Robin Williams leaving us all too soon. He brought so much laughter to us all. What has saddened me even more is reading comments that lack compassion concerning his death. 

 

I’ve seen both sides of the coin. I’ve lived in utter darkness, and I’ve lived in the light where I’ve witnessed the shadows creep into the world, those bits and pieces of darkness that intrude when something blocks or hinders the light. I’ve been that person sinking in an unforgiving sea of depression and desperation, and I can say with all honesty, the only thing a drowning person can see are the depths presently consuming them. The voices of loved ones are muffled by the same pressure crushing their lungs, making it impossible to breathe. The pain becomes unbearable, and all you want to do is make it stop. 

If you would, imagine that you are the one being sucked to the bottom of the ocean. The weight of the water is crushing your lungs. Frightening creatures swim about you, lurking and taunting you. Fear and pain have completely encapsulated you. And then the thought comes…if I could just go to sleep never to awaken again, it will all end. I will not feel my lungs implode.  I will not feel the teeth of the shark as it rips my body to shreds. All pain and all further pain will have ended. It will all simply stop. 

That is what it’s like. Some may and do consider it a selfish thing to be consumed by your own pain, but I can assure you, the person in this sort of pain is not seeking to hurt or inflict any sort of pain on another. They simply want their own pain to end. I know this because I was there at one point in my life. I was the person who just wanted it all to STOP! When I took the step to end my life, I never once thought of the pain it would inflict upon my parents or my brother or anyone else in my life that happened to love me. All I could see or feel was my own suffering, and I could not foresee any of it ever getting better. Was it selfish of me to only see the pain I was in? You may consider that to be the case, but my question in turn to you would be: do you consider a terminally ill person in excruciating physical pain to be selfish because they want their pain to end? Most people would say “No” to that question. Why? Maybe it’s because we view physical pain as real and emotional and mental pain as not real. I don’t know the answer to that question. What I do know is my pain was real to me. 

Thankfully my plans that night were unsuccessful, and things did eventually get better. It wasn’t overnight though. It took time and therapy. Then in my adult life, I ended up on the opposite side of that coin. I had learned to fight and battle the darkness from the side of the light, beating down the shadows that crept into my life. I had those to stand by my side. They helped to fight alongside me as I slayed the demon of depression. When I was injured and being sucked back into the darkness, they fought for me. They dragged my injured body back to safety and helped me to stand. 

It was nearly ten years ago when I received a phone call that my cousin had taken his life. He was like a brother to me. As children we all lived together for a two year period, so we were close. I was in shock; I was devastated, and I was able to see the pain it inflicted upon everyone who loved him. I don’t think his mother will ever fully recover. Having been on his side in the past, I was able to tell his momma that he was not trying to hurt her. Having now been on the opposite side of that coin, I was able to see the pain I would have inflicted upon those I love had I been successful all those years ago. 

It was after that incident that I decided to take my experience and my battle and create a fictional story of a girl battling depression, a girl who wanted to end her pain. I had lived on both sides. I knew what it felt like to be drowning, and I knew what it felt like to watch someone I loved end their life. I had heard the words of those not understanding depression, and I knew they needed to be able to see and experience it through the eyes of a character that could help them to feel the pain of it. Compassion comes from relating to someone else’s pain. I had also experienced the heartache and pain caused by those who think it’s cute to be a “mean girl” (or a mean guy) and bully or simply degrade others. I hoped maybe a few people who had those tendencies would read it and see the pain they actually inflict, but most of all I wanted those like my character to know that there really is hope for a better future. Things will not always be as dark as they are at that moment when you just want the voices to shut up and leave you alone. The cloud can be lifted. The darkness can be dispelled, but it doesn’t happen overnight, and you have to make an effort to reach up and grab the hand being extended to you. You have to use that helping hand as a rope and climb your way out of the pit. The hand will be there; the hand will not let go, but the hand cannot do the work on its own. You must work together with your doctor, your therapist, your loved ones, and the angels sent your way.You can do it. 

So, for those who do not understand depression, please do not attempt to tell a person battling it how to handle it. You are not equipped to do so. To those who seek to stand in judgment of those battling it, please be cautious. You may find yourself in the same position down the road, and you should really consider if you want the words you speak to be spoken to you at that point. To those of you helping a loved one to fight, I commend you. Keep it up. I assure you, you are important. To those of you who have found yourself feeling hopeless, I extend a hand of hope and words of wisdom. Please get to a doctor and make an appointment with a therapist. They will help you start swimming for the surface, and eventually you will realize you are above water and you can breathe.

Free in Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/Wildflowers-Schledia-Benefield-ebook/dp/B00BA1NPZ0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1394317619&sr=8-1&keywords=Wildflowers+by+Schledia+BenefieldToday through Wednesday, March 8 - 12, the Kindle version of Wildflowers is free. Check it out!

The Threads of Life

"The Threads of Life"

Each and every passing day
Is beautiful for someone in some way.
As the Fates spin threads on their loom and weave,
A tapestry for the whole world to see.  
Colorful threads of people are woven through,  
As well as their emotions and nature too.

The Fates sit at the loom and pull out their threads,

Spinning their picture—over the universe they spread.  
As love like a deep-red thread is woven through,
Somewhere a young couple is saying, 'I do.'
As a thread of white intermingles and weaves a hearth, 
  the innocence and family born through a baby's birth.  
All over the world the colors blend,  
Creating a masterpiece without end.  
As the orange hues of the setting sun disappear,
Bringing the black thread of night oh, so near.  
The night full of sadness, grief, and pain,
Of things no one has the power to change.  
The yellow of the sun's rising sheds light upon the sky.
And a family somewhere on earth wakes up asking why.  
As painful as the black threads are,  
The tears they bring help to heal all scars.  
Families come together, woven tight in love,  
As the tears they shed, spin in the masterpiece a dove.
A dove of the Spirit representing all things pure and good.  
As the tapestry's threads pull in close, just as they should.

                                                                                     Schledia Benefield

The Writer's High

When I made the decision to start an exercise routine, I started out slow. I did about twenty minutes of pilates a day for flexibility and core strengthening and walked a mile at least five days a week. After a few weeks the thought occurred to me to add in a little running. The first two weeks was pretty rough, I was completely out of breath after a short run, but I kept pressing on. Another week into it, I found I was breathing easy at the end of my run, so I decided to push myself a little further. The next day when I came to my run marker, I kept going. I grew tired and weary, but I looked ahead and set a goal. If I could just make it to my goal, I would slow down to a walk and allow my body to cool down a bit. What I found was when I pressed past the point of weariness, I was flooded with a rush strength and power, so much strength that I didn't want to stop when I passed my goal. It was a runner's high that made me feel wonderful! 

I've found that my writing is similar. I start out slow, making my outline, detailing information about my characters, and researching the things I need to lay everything out properly. I often find that when I start the actual writing process, it's pretty rough. One or two pages are turmoil to type as I pull my thoughts together and look frequently to my outline and characters, but I push myself to go a little further each day, setting a writing goal when I can. (Work days are not really possible since I'm not at home). As I pace through the room mulling over the plot and subplots and how to pull them all together, I grow weary of trying to figure it all out, but then as I type that one extra scene, a character says one word, and that one word floods my mind with a torrent of information on how to pull everything together and tie it in a nice little bow. It's the writer's high! You know that high that comes when your mind is bombarded with a beautiful flow of words spilling onto the keypad through your fingertips, and your fingers move at an incredible rate of speed, and you're left to wonder if you will be able to stop. You don't want to, in fact. Ah, it's an amazing feeling, and it makes all the rough places worth every ounce of sweat and tears!

Today I will be chatting with Sherri about my novel Wildflowers. Listen in at 12:30 CDT to find out about me and my most recent novel. 

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/rithebard/2013/08/13/chatting-with-sherri

MIA and a Fairy Day

Wow! Summer has been crazy busy. I feel like I've lost touch with the online world. I've been consumed with writing, editing, and revising my fantasy series, The Called Ones. I finally made it back on here today to catch up on all the shares I've received. 
I've got to figure out a system for keeping up with everything. Any advice out there on that? Oh, I know, I need to read Donna Huber's book. Maybe she has some tips in there to help me sort all this out. 
Well, after a few hours of online catching up, I've got to head into my kitchen and prepare for my baby girl's birthday party. She turned nine. I managed to capture a few fairies last night, so they'll have some fairies to play with later today, and did I mention that I was able to get three jars of fairy dust? This way the girls can consume a little fairy magic

For The Motherless on Mother's Day

It's been a while since I've been on here. Sorry about that. I've been rather busy!
I know that today is the day after Mother's Day, but I wanted to share a note I wrote last year for Mother's Day.

On a day like today, a day where we honor mothers for bringing their children into the world in a loving environment, rearing them with love and consistency to become productive members of society, molding their gifts and training them to use them wisely, and loving them unconditionally---despite the many mistakes children make, I tend to think not only of praise worthy mothers but also of the hundreds of thousands of children who do not have mothers they can honor.
I am not speaking of those who have lost their mothers to the angel of death. Many of those who have are still able to honor their mother in some way because their mothers were honorable. I am speaking of those who cannot honor their mother because they are not worth honoring.
As unfortunate as it may be, the truth is that there are children in our country (as well as adults) who do not have mothers because they were physically adandoned by them. Some at an early age. These are the ones who grow up in the foster system. While there are wonderful people in that system who love the children placed with them, there are tragically so many who are only in it for the money and often abuse the children placed in their care---as we have so sadly seen in the news!
For many their mothers have prioritized their jobs, their friends, and their social life over that of their children. I'm not saying that mothers cannot work or have friends or a social life. I am speaking of those children who are neglected because of these things. We cannot ignore the fact that it happens and it is an emotional abandonment with consequences.
Typically we hear beautiful messages about how wonderful mothers are on Mother's Day. I have even heard it said that "all mothers deserve to be honored because all mothers love their children." How far from the truth that statement is, and it hurts my heart to make a day purely about telling people they should honor their mother without trying to help them heal from the wounds their mothers have inflicted.
So today, if you are out there and you were either physcially or emotionally abandoned by your mother, I honor you today for surviving without the love you needed from your mother. I honor you today for enduring the pain you have suffered emotionally. Today when you hear people say "happy mother's day" or "be sure to honor your mother today," when you feel that stab in your heart from those words, just know that someone out there understands that today is a painful day for you. You are not alone, there are many others like you in this world and your heart can be healed.