As a teenager, I remember my mother lying in bed sobbing her heart out when I got home from school. I used to ask her what was wrong, and I didn’t even try to feel her pain. In the whole scheme of things, I probably didn’t want to. As kids, we just want to feel happy—don’t we?
As humans, we don’t want to feel pain. We want to brush the pain aside and fill it in with one of the millions of distractions in our reality—video games, movies, TV, food, sex, addictions, alcohol, drug use, picking our nose, skin picking, or whatever else.
Now, I realise my mistake and I so wish I could turn back time and help her. To cry with her, instead of not even trying to understand. I feel so guilty, so hateful of myself. I wish I could turn back time. It’s a pain of abandonment. A feeling that nobody cares, that we are alone. Perhaps all she needed was love and understanding. I failed her and I’ll probably never be able to forgive myself.
She used alcohol to numb her pain. I used to tell her I hated her, but inside I was so sad at my reaction. The words would haunt me until I could do nothing else but cry, and I’d say sorry. I just didn’t want her to die. My anger toward her was one of pain.
The things I’ve spoken about in my blog, the hurts we can do to one another…I am that. I am a hypocrite. I hurt my mother, and I wish I could fix things. I wish I could delete those words. Back then, I wish I could just hug her and love her and protect her, without judgement. The comforts we want in this life have the potential to do so much damage. As long as it is making us feel better, fuck everyone else. I don’t want to be that person anymore.
I hope that God has the grace to forgive me for my selfishness. I do Ho’oponopono every night in the hope that it will help my mother. Desperation probably breeds more desperation. I’m scared that I am doing her more harm with my own insecurities and desperations to heal her.
I act out of anger at the psychiatrists and mental health team, as I feel that they don’t take the human condition element of their work seriously. For if they did, mental illnesses would be treated at the core level, rather than numbed with drugs. There is incredible pain in my mother. I see it in her eyes. I wish I could feel her pain and cry her pain. Do the doctors and social workers understand this? I feel a death inside their soul. They, too, are hypocrites. However, last week, I realised that the only problem of this entire situation is me. Why should I blame others when the real issue I have is with the anger at myself for handing her over to the people I thought would help her? No wonder I pick and carve at my skin, as I have so much pain of giving up on someone who I would die for.
We must face these real pain issues in this lifetime. Some of us act out our fears and anger with violence, but we all have to face our dark sides at some point. We all have the potential to cause incredible harm to one another.
Mental illness should not be attacked, cornered, and plagued with drugs. This only numbs the pain. That pain is damaging, if it is not felt and healed. I firmly believe this. The psychiatric community is treating the conditions of mental illness backwards. These fragile humans need love, understanding, and compassion, and not to be pushed into a corner where they feel isolated and alone to express how they feel. Perhaps God does talk to some human beings. If he speaks to prophets, and mediums, and they are not viewed as crazy, why are fragile human beings attacked for being different?
I experience depression, or perhaps it’s just a state of understanding the human condition that sets us apart from the ‘normal and happy’ human beings walking the Earth right now. I would not say that mental illness is pleasant, and it’s no wonder that we want to numb ourselves from the pain, but it’s not enough to heal the Spirit or Soul. Drugs are most certainly not curing and healing mental illness, if that problem truly exists. I would like to redefine mental illness as the broken human instead. The human who feels so out of place in today’s society, the human who is so fearful of being different and having abstract thoughts that the internal pain turns on itself and causes mental confusion, the human with such profound thoughts that they could change the face of this world.
Finally, I’d like to add that sometimes things happen to us that are not always pleasant. Our marriage breaks up; we experience hardship, disease, or a myriad of other issues. All of the problems that happen in life can cause the fragile mind to break. Perhaps what the psychiatric community must come to realise is that they are not working for the comfort of human beings, but for the God called money. I hope that one day they come face to face with their dark side and realise the error of their ways. It’s not a pleasant place to be, I can tell you that. However, once we are faced with our shadow self, we have the power to forget and pretend everything is okay, or to change ourselves, primarily our heart. How many ‘professional’ people would face the former?
Depression has the power to kill people. It’s like the dark side of man takes over, and life is void of light. All I can do in those moments is cry. I often cry alone, and quietly. However, I’ve discovered a field where only the birds are my witness, and I am able to cry aloud without fear of causing panic in others who simply have no awareness of even wanting to understand that the human being is not always together, it is fragmented and in need of love and understanding. I am broken.
Next time you pass somebody in the street who doesn’t appear to be ‘normal’, consider his or her pain, think about his or her abandonment of being or thinking differently. Smile, be compassionate, and send love. Love is what this world is lacking, and it’s so much harder to turn on the human nature of kindness and love and kung fu the oppressive and hurtful dark side out to destroy us and others.