My Journey It’s been a long time since I’ve written about my Mental Health and since it’s Mental Health Awareness Month I can’t think of a better time. Photo by Thiago Matos on Pexels.com I’ve been stable for about three years and it was a long journey during that depressive period. After being stable for […]
May Is Mental Health Awareness Month, My Mental Health Update —
It’s been 28 years since you killed yourself. Too many Birthday, Christmas, and Thanksgivings. Wishing I could say I missed you but that would not be true. I do have some great snippets, little memories from my early childhood. Other memories, more unstable memories from my teens when I lived with you. Driving down the […]
It’s Been 28 years……… —
By Celebretainment Jul 13, 2020
Kid Cudi turns his “pain” and depression into music.
The ‘Adventures of Moon Man and Slim Shady’ rapper opened up about his mental health battles during a speech for PBS’s Washington D.C. station WETA and the National Alliance on Mental Illness Home’s virtual event at the weekend.
The Day ‘N’ Nite’ hitmaker – who checked himself into rehab in 2016 for depression and suicidal urges – admitted depression has “ruled” his life “for as long as he can remember”.
However, the 36-year-old star explained how he came to realise that he could use his struggles and channel the emotions into his art.
He said: “When we’re young, we face a lot of pressure to do things that harm us.
We pretend to be happy when there’s a raging violent storm inside of our heart.
“Once it was difficult for me to find the words. Anxiety and depression ruled my life for as long as I could remember. I was scared, I was sad, I felt like a damaged human swimming in a pool of emotions.
“It took me a while to get to this place of commitment, to say I’m gonna get through this. To know that we can take our pain and turn it into something.
I turn my pain into music. And my music is how I am different. And my difference is my power.”
Cudi had previously admitted he was “ashamed” to speak about his mental health problems.
He explained: “I was really good at keeping my troubles hidden … even from my friends.
“I really was good with that. And it’s scary because you hear people say, ‘I had no clue.'”
He’d also previously touched on how expressing himself creatively has helped him to cope his depression.
Speaking earlier in 2018, the rapper – who has collaborated with the likes of Eminem, Kanye West and Jay-Z – shared: “I’m just creating a lot, with more love in my heart for what I’m doing and for myself.
“Living a healthy life, keeping my family around and staying on a mission, which is making music that means something.
“I’m focusing on my art again and throwing myself back into it and wanting to write something with more of a positive outlook on things, because I’ve written the dark so well for so long.
“I wanted to bring the opposite of that, you know? I’m at a place where I was able to do that.”
A woman under the influence (1974)
In a Year with 13 Moons (1978)
I can barely understand my own thoughts yet alone try staying on track “does anyone hear me”As i Write and try articulate my issues wish i could say anxiety has abated ,but it’s like life’s trying to tear my walls down stripe me bear .could i rebuild this me up? or will she die young!
Today iv hovered around my thoughts and as much as Hannes has made sense im on edge how long sanity will prevail god only knows! There’s much happening to me other than mental illness stalking me, Tuesday we fly to Napier and I’m petrified i don’t fly well and my boy and myself will do this alone though his great-then Wednesday i have a job interview I’m in no zone to pick work up but fuck i have no option “this seems to be a part too” Then Thursday my boy has his interview for trade school ,which his not certain of either.Oh and then bigger we actually have no place yet either to move into and we two weeks away from moving ,the mover never returns my call though hubby has spoken to him..Today the agent rang doing a reference check and never have we had an issue renting though its only twice we’ve rented but since then hubby was made redundant and we lapsed on two accounts which we paying off now, but this has come up grr I’m left wondering will we get a rental and were will we live ?In the midst of all of this i have resentment to my husband for being made redundant and now relocating ..i know this is selfish but i just cant i need someone to save me from myself !
I’m trying hard to self-sooth my body has a mind of its own and its fragile mind the two just don’t gel with fragility!!
Specter, Pt. 1
Michael please save me,
deliver my soul.
Specter is slashing,
and tearing a hole.
It bites and It gnashes,
and tears open my wounds.
I don’t have the will,
it’ll be over soon…
Specter, Pt. 2
…And as I looked up,
my defender looked down.
Descended and thrust,
crushed Specter to the ground
His lance tip pointed,
at the devil’s crown.
Specter’s incisors and daggers
extended and grown…
Specter, Pt. 3
…Specter shrieked like a pig bled, hanging on slaughter.
Its lips ripped back over its chipped fangs,
the skin grew taughter.
He ripped and he tore,
at my back and my flesh.
He knew that his time
was limited at best.
Because the archangel had come,
and bore down on his evil.
As I rode the waves up and down,
in this life, so surreal.
Specter, Pt. 4
The Final Chapter
…And Michael roared,
at Specter under his heel,
“Thou shall not harm, leave,
you are cast out.
“From this place you torment,
I will cut you down.”
Sword raised in death thrust
The Protector bore down.
And severed the devil’s head
Throwing it to the ground.
In lieu of September being Suicide Prevention/Awareness Month, I am reposting some of my older posts that deal with my depression, my suicide attempt, and verses/quotations of hope and strength. Please feel free to pass these on to others who feel alone – it is one of the worst feelings in the world to go through this by yourself. Thank you for visiting and sharing your thoughts, my friend.
X Chris
When I first began thinking of writing about clinical depression, I stopped thinking. I put it to rest. Why would I consider doing what I was considering? What would I do in the face of my family and friends when they found out? I felt so shameful. So inadequate. So inferior. And I felt so alone. Especially as a male. Men aren’t supposed to talk about our feelings. We’re not supposed to cry. Not show weakness. Not show emotion.
This…thing I had, made me do all those things. And it wouldn’t leave. It just lingered there for years. It reared its ugly head more than I could handle. I saw its sinister teeth glistening in the shadows. Its chipped, stiletto nails sliding around the corner and scratching on the walls of my soul.
Later, through years of counseling and medicine, doctors help me put a name to this thing and they called it depression. I’ve come to call it, Specter.
A big step to my living with depression and being haunted by Specter was the realization of what I was going through was real. It was not imagined. I was not a freak or different because I was going through it. I was normal. The Lord just dealt me a hand that was different from other folks in my life. That’s a-whole-‘nother talk which I imagine I’ll address in the future. The biggest help to me was decoding the codex. Once I discovered the following four items, I could live with my depression. Yours may be different my friend. You may have less. You may have more. There’s no standard here. And that’s perfectly fine.
Continue reading “Who is Specter?”
I’ve noticed this post gets hits everyday so I thought it’d be worthwhile to repost it.
X Chris
-Robin Williams
With this month being Suicide Prevention/Awareness Month, I am reblogging my posts and poetry that deal specifically with suicide, as well as those things that often result in suicide such as (but NOT limited to) depression, bullying, etc.
This is a poem I wrote after I read a blogger’s post about wanting to die. Please share it with someone you are thinking of that is dealing with this RIGHT NOW.
I saw you THOUGHT of suicide,
I saw you wish you died.
Your loneliness and brokenness,
Were all you had inside.
The noose, the pills, the razors,
Sing songs OF sweet respite.
I know my friend, I’ve been there,
I tried too, to end my life.
So hope I send my warrior,
My majestic, fighting friend.
You will not give up that easily,
You’ll fight it to the end.
When life, and friends, and family,
Jeer and taunt YOU to the last.
Hang onto life you solid rock,
Someone needs you now, not in their past.
I held a jar of emptiness
Lonely, full of gray
It sucked out all the sunshine
It took the joy away
You came and said hello to me
You put some brightness in
I will not forget your kindness
My thoughtful, loving friend
TRIGGER WARNING: This post discusses my suicide attempt. Please, my friend, do not read it if this is a trigger.
This month is Suicide Prevention/Awareness month.
And next week marks the one year anniversary of my hanging.
So I want to take this month to reblog some of my posts talking about this tumor that can strike anyone at any time.
It strikes those of us who are depressed most often.
For those left in the aftermath the largest question they have is “Why?” My family and friends wondered the same thing while I lay in the hospital.
I wrote this post in an attempt to explain what I was thinking when I put the noose around my neck-
In closing, and for those who are where I was a year ago, right now…You. Are. Not. Alone. The feelings will eventually subside. They may revisit like Specter does, but you will know how to deal with them next time.
Right now as I’m writing this I have these feelings pulsing through my veins. I won’t act on these BECAUSE I know they will subside and I have the Lord’s strength on my side. It’s just been a rough week…
I just felt like sitting down and crying today. I feel worthless and at age 42, like I don’t have anything to show except for a daughter that just started 5th grade today.
Maintain hope in the presence of hopelessness.
Maintain strength in the presence of despair.
Rethink your decision in 24 hours.
You will overcome.
We believe in you.
This article was originally published at Psyblog, here.
A “depressive mixed states” often precedes a suicide attempt.
A major study of 2,811 people suffering from depression has identified three behaviours that predict a suicide attempt.
The study compared depressed people who had attempted suicide with depressed people who had not.
The researchers found there were certain patterns of behaviour which increased the risk of a suicide attempt by 50%.
They are:
Dr. Dina Popovic, one of the study’s authors, said:
“We found that “depressive mixed states” often preceded suicide attempts.
A depressive mixed state is where a patient is depressed, but also has symptoms of “excitation,” or mania.
We found this significantly more in patients who had previously attempted suicide, than those who had not.
In fact 40% of all the depressed patients who attempted suicide had a “mixed episode” rather than just depression.
All the patients who suffer from mixed depression are at much higher risk of suicide.
We also found that the standard DSM criteria identified 12% of patients at showing mixed states, whereas our methods showed 40% of at-risk patients.
This means that the standard methods are missing a lot of patients at risk of suicide.”
Dr. Popovic continued:
“In our opinion, assessing these symptoms in every depressed patient we see is extremely important, and has immense therapeutical implications.
Most of these symptoms will not be spontaneously referred by the patient, the clinician needs to inquire directly, and many clinicians may not be aware of the importance of looking at these symptoms before deciding to treat depressed patients.
This is an important message for all clinicians, from the GPs who see depressed patients and may not pay enough attention to these symptoms, which are not always reported spontaneously by the patients, through to secondary and tertiary level clinicians.
In highly specialized tertiary centres, clinicians working with bipolar patients are usually more aware of this, but that practice needs to extent to all levels.
The strength of this study is that it’s not a clinical trial, with ideal patients — it’s a big study, from the real world.”
The research was presented at the 28th ECNP Congress in Amsterdam (Popovic et al., 2015).
He took a little piece of him,
and placed it in my hand
I was hurting, sad, and broken,
and I couldn’t understand
Why he gave so selflessly,
and cared to share a part
Of him so free and graciously,
a portion of his heart
TRIGGER WARNING: This post is a transparent account of my life with clinical depression and suicide. If this is a trigger for you, please do not read it at this time.
Hi. My name is Chris and I’ve survived with severe depression for about 30 years.
Last year I hanged myself.
I was diagnosed years ago with clinical depression several years ago.
Not the kind that makes you feel sad after your girlfriend breaks up with you, or explains why you feel under the weather when the weather is under.
No, this is much blacker than that.
Those of you who live in my world know exactly what I’m talking about. Those that don’t, please be thankful that you may have a hard time understanding.
This is the kind of depression that silently wraps you in a paralytic blanket on the couch and condemns you to mindlessly become consumed in a Red Box movie marathon. The kind of depression that comes by and kicks you in the nuts and embeds itself on your shoulders, breaking you down to a kitchen floor fetal position, as you cry hysterically for no apparent reason.
The type that digs its claws into your back like a demon, dragging you down into that black abyss and leaving you hopeless with no hope for escape. The kind that sucks away any spirit you had and leaves behind a catatonic shell entombed inside an invisible sarcophagus…and lowers a grey filter over your life.
Breaking Benjamin is spot on when they sing,
There is nothing left inside, but I am wide awake.
The depression that when you look outside on a sunny, bright, clear day, all you see is grey – a Connecticut winter, a London Fog, an arctic wasteland.
It’s odd.
It’s surreal.
And it’s frightening all rolled into one.
That’s my depression. I’ve come to call it the fog of war. That’s our depression.
Thankfully, today I am doing better…surviving through my depression.
So far.
Recovering if you will. Maybe recovered. But the condition is always there like a specter, crouched down in the distant corner of my soul, waiting for me to let my guard down.
Lurking just out of the light, in the shadows with its hollow eyes, bearing its fangs and waiting for the chance for me to skip my medicine so it can slash at me…waiting for me to be alone with no protection.
Through counseling, I later discovered my depression was hybrid with an anxiety disorder and adult ADHD. Here are some things I found out about myself the other day from a recent doctor visit:
♦ has anxiety disorder (rule out panic disorder)
♦ has depressive disorder (rule out bipolar disorder)
♦ has adult ADHD
♦ has mood disorder (rule out bipolar disorder)
I was given medicine to cover all the bases but never really felt “at peace”. I’ve been on every anti-depression medicine in the doctor’s locker. Years later (since I left teaching and am working towards divorce) the anxiety has faded into the background and become nonexistent. The ADHD on the other hand is still there but…HEY, SQUIRREL! I believe this positive rebirth is largely the result of the medicine that I’ve been taking.
On the other hand, the interim was my crucible. Sunday, September 14th of 2014 was my watershed. I remember the day perfectly. It was a warmer, sunny day in Norfolk, VA. Perfect for me to be outside, working on art for my business.
So I rounded up my tools, plugged in my ear buds, and cranked up my tunes. My upstairs neighbor was outside also, grilling dinner for his family on his cooker, which is just out of the left side of the picture below. I talked and laughed with him for a bit then went back to listening to Bullet for My Valentine, Breaking Benjamin, Five Finger Death Punch and the like.
I was perfectly happy despite my playlist. I made the peace sign below that day. I was in the zone. Life was perfect and I was filled with joy and accomplishment.
Hours later as the day started winding down, I began to pack everything up and take it inside. I was tired and worn out but still on top of the world. I tinkered around with my projects inside, painting and drilling until a reasonable time when my neighbors would be going to bed. I try to be as considerate as I can with this.
About 8:30 I called my daughter to tell her good night and that I love her.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
No answer.
I called her on her second cell phone number.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
No answer.
This is when it started.
This is my trigger.
The beast’s lips peeled back over its incisors as it waited in the corner.
I called her mother’s phone.
Ring.
Ring.
RIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGG!
No answer. Resentment grew in me. The demon’s chipped, stiletto fingernails reached for me out of the darkness. Resentment quickly gave way to anger. Red. Anger.
The demon slashed.
If it stopped at resentment I would have been “alright”. Not the option a person who is born again should chose. But I went down the road of resentment nonetheless.
I plugged my phone’s playlist into my surround sound and I let the Five Finger Death Punch rip! After a short time, probably 20 minutes after that the anger turned to depression. FFDP’s “Coming Down” was playing and I put it on repeat and cranked it.
“It’s caving in around me, what I thought was solid ground,
I tried to look the other way, but I couldn’t turn around.
It’s ok for you to hate me, for all the things I’ve done,
I’ve made a few mistakes, but I’m not the only one.”
Tonight I didn’t go to the fridge to grab the wine like I usually did.
I went to the 80 proof rum that sat on top. I filled a cup up about 3/4 of the way and then topped the rest off with diet Coke.
I started to drink.
Heavily.
I was walking aimlessly back and forth from my apartment kitchen to my bedroom. Back and forth. Waiting for the elixir to kick in. It did. And the bottom dropped out. I started to cry. I cried vehemently…violently. I don’t know what it’s called at that point, but crying isn’t it.
“Step away from the ledge, I’m coming down.
I could never be, what you want me to.
You pulled me under, to save yourself (save yourself).
You will never see, what’s inside of me.
I pull you under, just to save myself.”
Forcing myself to focus through my pain, anguish, and tears, I sat down at the corner desk in my bedroom and started to write. About 30 minutes and four pages later I finished my “living will”.
It’s funny they call it that, because it’s at that very moment I decided I didn’t have the will to live.
I made sure all my bases were covered for those who would find me and have to deal with the repercussions. I wrote the password to my computer files down for my neighbor and gave ownership of ALL my belongings to her and my mom. The first thing I detailed is that I didn’t want my estranged wife within 50 yards of me at any time from this point forward.
I was very specific.
I gave ownership of everything associated with my art business to the President of our local art association. She’s a dear lady and she would know what to do with all I had. I wanted to make the hassle of the after effects of deciding where my belongings would go, “easier” on them.
I didn’t care about the emotional impact.
I didn’t care about being selfish. You don’t when you’re in it. It didn’t even cross my mind. I was so far gone. Then I texted three friends whom I now call my angels.
“Was there ever any question, on how much I could take?
You kept feeding me your bul*****, hoping I would break.
Is there anybody out there, is there anyone who cares?
Is there anybody listening, who will hear my final prayers?”
The first text was to my upstairs neighbor. She’s my non-blood sister and has grown to be my confidant and trusted friend: “Do you have any sleeping pills?” Her response was “no”.
Next.
I texted the lady who is currently my girlfriend and asked the same. “No I don’t. Are you alright?”
Next.
The last person I texted was my dear friend who I knew had them. She’s my prayer warrior and a devout, selfless person of faith “Yes, I do. Why?”
My quick response was, “I want to die tonight.”
“Step away from the ledge, I’m coming down.
I could never be, what you want me to.
You pulled me under, to save yourself (save yourself).
You will never see, what’s inside of me.
I pull you under, just to save myself.”
Between 9:00 and 10:00 p.m. I walked to my closet door and took out a belt. I looped the buckled end then looped the holed end around the door handle. I secured that end with about five zip ties so it could handle the weight of a 205 lb., 41 year old male. I sat down on the floor and cinched it around my neck. Just slack enough so that when I passed out and fell forward it would take my life through suffocation.
When I had finished sizing and positioning the noose, I released myself and got my bottle of sleeping pills.
“It’s caving in around me (caving in), it’s tearing me apart (tearing me).
It’s all coming down around me (coming down). Does anyone care at all?
I will never be, what you want me to.
You pull me under, I pull you under.”
I sat down with my second drink, re-attached myself, and opened the bottle of pills. I wasn’t scared of what I was doing.
I was scared that it wouldn’t work.
[phone ringing and goes to voice mail] I had committed and had no sense of judgment left in me.
[phone ringing again and going to voice mail] I took three pills and threw them back in my throat, forcing them down with my liquid courage. I laughed at myself and thought, “You have to be joking. You’re trying to die, not go to sleep.”
[phone ringing and going to voice mail a third time] I dumped the rest of the pills on the floor and took one handful.
Gulp. I grabbed another handful.
Gulp. This was easy.
I grabbed a third handful. Gulp. I chased them with the last of the rum and Coke.
And waited. I remember things got blurry and my eyes got heavy.
“I could never be, what you want me to
You pulled me under, to save yourself (save yourself)
You will never see, what’s inside of me
I pull you under, just to save myself”
Two days later I came to awareness in a hospital bed. I didn’t have restraints on, they took those off the day before, I learned. I had on eight point leather restraints because I was so violent. Two on each limb.
I spent the next week in the hospital, stabilizing. While in the hospital I couldn’t believe I was surrounded by so much love and support. It’s all still sinking in several months later. I am thankful for all those people in my life. I love them all. And I am indebted to them.
When I left the hospital, I was transported to the Virginia Beach Psychiatric Center of my own recognizance. I remained there for a week.
1. Journal (or blog). I’ve learned to blog about my experiences. Whether you do this in a paper journal offline, or a virtual journal on the web, this will normalize things for you. You will not only be telling about your personal experiences and processing things for yourself, but you will also read stories of others going through the exact same thing. And you will know that you are not alone. This will be the start of a wonderful support network for you. Blogging will help you put your situation in perspective. It will help you crystallize the things that matter…the truths. It will allow you to see the progress you’re making. It will allow you to see your lapses as well as write about what you will do differently next time. I’ve found that writing about mental “illnesses” is a really big issue in the blogging world. Why not express yourself in a public forum and receive support from others that are going through the same issues?
2. Have a support network.On the night of my incident, the last friend I texted knew EXACTLY what I was doing. She lives a solid 50 minutes away from me. As soon as she got my text she rushed to her car and sped to my home. It was her three calls that I heard on my phone that night as she called on the way to my home. She got there in 20 minutes! She rallied several others to save me that night. They are my angels. I would be dead if she were not in my life. I love you, Chelise. If you need a place to start looking to start a support network, join the National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI). Find a local group to join as your support system. I am working on doing this for 2015.http://www.nami.org/
3. Have a plan.I did not have a plan for when the beast reached out in September. I should have had an intervention and had it posted on my wall. I should have had a contract that I signed with my support network. I didn’t have a support network either. The first step would be to call [a specific name here] should I feel like I’m becoming depressed. The people that were closest to me that night all keep our phones on and the volume on high when we go to sleep. We answer when the others call, no questions asked. No apologies. No judgments. It’s our oath.
4. Take your medications religiously.I have been on medications for years. You will need to contact an MD who can prescribe your medicine but also set up a schedule with a psychologist. A professional who can be an outlet for you. Someone who teaches you how to move forward and gives you strategies or resources for help. It MAY take time to find the right combination of medicines. For me it was years. Don’t give up here. DON’T. GIVE. UP. Keep going until you find the combination that works. It makes ALL the difference in the world. In hindsight, the only combination that worked for me was the one I got in the psychiatric center. You will suffer less the sooner you and your doctor decipher this. Be transparent with your doctor and tell him/her what works, what doesn’t work, how you feel, when you feel what you do (dates, days, and times), and for how long. Keep a journal of the medicine you take along with the date and the amount. I used to get weary of carrying a paper journal around so I have a file in my (free)Evernote app labeled, Prescriptions. Keep track of them here and also bring the actual bottles in to your doctor when you meet with them.
5. Don’t drink.Yes, give up ALL alcohol. Drinking negates the effects of the medicine. I was drinking a lot of wine at one point and could definitely feel a difference. You have to try YOUR BEST to not drink any alcohol. We have a “disease” we live with…a cancer of the soul. This is the biggest way to combat the emotional effects of the specter that haunts us.
6. Challenge yourself to step out of your comfort zone of seclusion.I’m an introvert. I like my alone time. Alone time can be dangerous. If it’s not time that you’re recharging your socially depleted batteries, it’s probably tipping into the red zone. Force yourself to seek help and comfort from your friends. Reach out to them. You may have to be a friend to get a friend. It doesn’t have to be all of them. Just one. Find your angel.
7. Exercise.The second biggest way to combat the beast lurking in the corner, is exercise. After alcohol, this is the biggest factor for a healthy mind. If you don’t like weights, try the treadmill. If you don’t like the treadmill, try walking on the beach. If you don’t like walking on the beach, sign up for a Yoga class. Get outside. Get up. Notice the greatness of God’s nature around you. Get your heart pumping. Get those endorphins surging through your veins. Push yourself to up your heart rate for 20″ straight. Aim for once a week and move up to two times a week. Strive for 3-5 times a week over time. Forgive yourself if you miss a workout. It won’t be the end of the world. This is not short term or a five day fad diet to get in shape for Spring Break. This is long term baby! If you think about it in these terms, you’ll be more forgiving of yourself when you don’t get up to get the heart rate up.
8. Give thanks.Be thankful for the small things in life. Say it out loud. “I’m thankful for the bright sun.” “I’m thankful that my car works.” “I’m thankful to have a job.” In exercise of my faith, I spend days walking along the beach picking up sea glass and shells. Each time I find a piece of glass or shell and bend down to pick it up I say, “Thank You for this, Lord” The more you can program your brain to be thankful, the brighter your days will become. Little by little. Baby steps.
9. Don’t beat yourself up.My new mantra is, “I realize I’m perfectly imperfect, and that’s perfectly okay”. It came to me as clear as day while I was in the psychiatric unit. You have to learn to not punish yourself. You are human. You give grace to others. Now just give it to yourself.
10. You. Are. Not. Crazy.Don’t EVER let someone tell you are crazy. And don’t you DARE believe the lie. What you are going through is VERY, VERY real. Don’t EVER let someone downplay what you may have to deal with on a daily basis. Don’t let them downplay it if you go through it once a year. It is real. It lives with us. It may lurk in the corner or it may not. We realize this. You are human just like everyone else around you. This is not anillness, this is a lifestyle.
Keep hope through your valley
– Chris
Survivors Blog Here 
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