Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suicide. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

The Last Act……this is certainly not my normal blog post and it is not about a "Beautiful Moment", so excuse me while I feel the need to write this.

 
    As I thought about Robin Williams....bruised from within, eyes glazed—head bowed, out of control—pulse racing, a feeling of overwhelming self-hatred, heart broken, tired, empty, confusion and loneliness fill the mind.  Everything matters yet nothing matters.  Imagine the rapid-fire succession of horrifying thoughts scrolling through the mind, unable to restore order within the confines of one’s brain—distracted by a reflection of one’s self, nothing seems to be in order in this bad dream, a “nightmare” roller coaster ride of a life. There must be a hornets nest of thoughts and feelings.
      There are many ups but sadly the downs cause many to bottom out and cloud one’s ability to reach back for the goodness and work toward a greater purpose.  “This life has become too difficult for me”, were the words, a written acknowledgment or confession of sorts, by someone close to us, who five years ago took his own life.  Two others taking the same fate, that were close to us, must have felt a similar scenario in their lives’ as they “played out”.  One was a well educated, creative and hugely talented artist with grand ideas and designs that must have seeped from every crevice of his bumpy brain mass.  He was always searching.  Distracted by “life".   It happens and it is an ugly transformation, overwhelmed with extreme disappointment and unable to restore order in one’s life— unable to seek their way or share their work/purpose in a productive satisfying way, they seek to relieve the pain.  Unable to accept one’s self in such weariness, unable to feel loved or love themselves, thus unable to adequately love others.  Like a hidden treasure they feel at times to go unnoticed and unfulfilled.  Full of goodness, gifts, talents and delicate fragility these people (many creative people) suffer from a disease, depression, with many versions, it is “real” pathological illnesses. Sufferers compare themselves with others, who seem to skip along their life-paths with ease and little trepidation over their next step. While those trembling in motion within the confines of their own imprisoned minds suffer in agitation, apprehension, hoping and longing for answers that seem to go unanswered and unfulfilled.  Some seek help while others suffer endlessly, struggling to disguise or deny their weakness.  Secretly yearning for help they exhaustively mask their pain and suffering.  Fed up and beyond weary at some point they cross a line that may not be visible to others, compulsive, confirmed, a thoughtless point of end…. “The last act”.
     The reasons for any suicide are certainly very complex, and research acknowledges that no one can fully explain with certainty what is behind the rise that we have experienced in recent history.  Quote in an article from: The New York Times online. http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/03/health/suicide-rate-rises-sharply-in-us.html?_r=0 “It’s vastly underreported,” said Julie Phillips, an associate professor of sociology at Rutgers University who has published research on rising suicide rates.  “We know we’re not counting all suicides.” Some studies and estimates suggest that approximately 800,000 Americans attempt suicide every year. Suicide rates can be difficult to measure or interpret but over the twenty-year period from 1990 to 2010, suicide rates in the U.S. decreased, and then rose again.  Between 1990 and 2000, the suicide rate decreased from 12.5 deaths by suicide to 10.4 per 100,000 people in the population.  However, over the next ten years the rate seemed to go back up and by 2011 the rate was at 12.3 deaths per 100,000.
      I have not been able to find the suicide data for 2012 thru 2013 but given what seems to be so many lost to this, I fear it is still very high.  Many people openly criticize those that take their own lives as selfish or say that is a last selfish act.  Can we really walk in another person’s shoes?  I agree that it seems to be a self absorbed, selfish act but a disease of the mind, we surly cannot fully understand the chemistry and what happens with such imbalances within the brain.  And certainly we cannot judge.  I believe that these individuals are such a disappointment to themselves and they believe that they are a disappointment and burden on others, so much so, that it is unbearable for them to think.
     Comprehensive psychiatric evaluations have to be sought and medication management addressed.  But I do not believe that we do an adequate job of addressing and accessing an individual’s mental issues or illness.  I have dealt with depression and dementia with loved ones and know first hand what that is like.  Some possibly many physicians are simply prescription writers and they prescribe a cocktail of drugs and begin practicing with hope of a manageable outcome.  It is such a balancing act of trial and error.  And the actual changes in the chemistry of the brain can be both dangerous and devastating with or without drugs in these cases.
      In addition, when someone has been on a medication, many individuals taking the medication as well as caregivers do not understand the dangers of starting and stopping a medication.  I do not believe that there is enough time or knowledge to address individual cases or the desire to delve into each individual’s case by many healthcare professionals.  Never mind be abreast of all the drug interactions and effects both immediate and long term on each individual because, we are all so different. In my opinion adequate care is lacking for reasons of time constraints with physicians and lack of “real” interest as well as, individuals unable to recognize their own need for help (healthcare) or unwillingness to get help for fear of a negative stigma or due to other limitations.  Maybe there is no cure?  But individuals with these illnesses need a healthcare advocate to monitor them often and make note of changes and things that need addressing.  I am no doctor but I have dealt with these topics on a personal level with loved ones for over two decades.
     In the general population, another thought, observation or question might be that we as a growing Internet and “techno” population, are lacking the personal communication skills to care for and deal with individuals suffering with mental illness, “problems”.  By this, I mean, we have less and less person-to-person contact and communication in our daily lives. So much about the way we communicate is changing.  Many individuals may need to simply share themselves and their gifts to recover a healthy life of fulfillment.  Many are in need of encouragement and need ways to find a purpose in life but do not have fulfilling communication.  The communication that I speak of involves looking into someone’s eyes, seeing expressions and even touch from others, hugs, pats on the back and etc.  Some people are for whatever reason, possibly unable to lift themselves up or be lifted up to achieve their own goals or expectations, people need people.  Mental illness has no boundary—can seem silent, all the while one can be struggling in poverty or middle class and another be very successful because they have plenty of money but all equally susceptible to mental illness.  Problems have no boundaries either.  They may be brought on by environmental or spiritual situations or both and/or a serious genetic mental disorders or by other health problems.  This has got to be difficult to address.  We have got to communicate better with others and be aware of warning signs in individuals that suffer so greatly within.  It is easy to tell someone to be happy like a child for no reason. But that is what we should be, right?  If you are happy for a reason, you’re in trouble, because that reason can be taken away from you at any moment.   Let’s reach out to others.   A “normal” person should be able to control their thoughts and even change them, but what if some cannot and it is their, “Last Act”?

Saturday, April 6, 2013

Mourning Cloak

This was the actual butterfly that landed in front of me.

This butterfly experience kept popping back into my thoughts after a week of intense prayer, time alone with the Holy Spirit, reading the Bible, several other books including, Rick Warren’s book, ”The Purpose Driven Life” (for the second time), and another nearly 3:00 AM awakening with a single vision of a solar eclipse that had happen a few times.  And I don’t have trouble sleeping or rarely ever recall having dreams.  I simply thought, hum…that is weird and then went right back to sleep.  I’ll get back to this striking detail in another post.
I waited nearly a week and it dawned on me that I should look up the name of this butterfly.  It gave me the weirdest feeling when I identified it.  The name of the butterfly is “Mourning Cloak”.   Some websites claim to not have any idea about where the name originated but several claim that it derives its name from the traditional Victorian mourning cloak (worn when someone was in mourning and sometimes draped over the casket of the deceased) due to its dark coloration with light trimmed edges on their wings.  That got my brain going since this butterfly caught my eye as a shadow on the ground and I looked up immediately in shock and astonishment.   First because I had just thought at that very moment about my brother-in-law who had passed away a few years ago in the spring and then shocked because it was early for butterflies! 
As I researched this butterfly more it was simply an amazing butterfly to learn about.  Remember, I mentioned how worn and tattered that it looked in my previous blog post? (With Easter fast approaching it reminded me of Jesus before his crucifixion)  It must have looked tattered because these butterflies are one of the rare butterflies that weather harsh winter cold.  In their adult form, they have a unique way of survival called, “cryo-preservation”.  They find safe places to hide, like cracks in bark of trees, leaf litter and etc.  According to one source of information they have chosen their sheltering place months before (not sure how they know this) and once in their shelter they literally become gradually frozen in their hideout.  They have to find a good shelter to be hidden from birds and squirrels that might find them a tasty winter snack.    
The Mourning Cloak is one of the longest living butterflies.  It is estimated that they live nearly 10-months with 4 or so in this hibernating stage.  It seems sad that they endure the cold winter then die shortly after mating and start the life cycle again.   Some individuals that have studies the Mourning Cloak butterflies indicate that they sometime migrate and that there is a possibility that there could be two generations of Mourning Cloaks during a year with winter hibernation for one group and possible Aestivation which is the summer equivalency to hibernation to avoid the heat and lack of adequate moisture during summer. 
An interesting behavior that was mentioned when I was researching these butterflies is that they will usually seek high objects to perch on and it can make a loud clicking noise when it takes off in flight.  This one stopped me in my tracks by landing on the ground in front of me as if to say look at me.  I suppose that he was simply looking for a sunny spot!
But I cannot help but think that it was a message or way of getting my attention.  Romans 12:2 And be not conformed to this world: but be ye "transformed" (the Greek word for transformed, metamorphosis) by the renewing of our minds.
Romans1:20 “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, been understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.”


                       I found this poem that was written by:






                        Unconscious                               U
                  came a beauty to my                         n
               wrist                                                    c
              and stopped my pencil,                         o
         merged its shadow profile with                   n
      my hand's ghost                                            s
   on the page:                                                     c
   Red Spotted Purple or else Mourning               i
Cloak,                                                                o
paired thin-as-paper wings, near black,               u
were edged on the seam side poppy orange,        s
  as were its spots.                                                         C a m e  a  B e a u t y

                                                                        I sat arrested, for its soot-haired
                                                                           body's worm
                                                                           shone in the sun.
                                                                           It bent its tongue long as
                                                                             a leg
                                                                             black on my skin
                                                                               and clung without my
                                                                               feeling,
                                                                                 while its tomb-stained
                                                                                    duplicate parts of
                                                                                      a window opened.
                                                                                        And then I
                                                                                           moved.