Soul Sharing - Relapsing

I've relapsed so many times. I lost count of how many times I've attempted suicide after the 6th grade. I've lost count of how many times I've cut after that one week I cut 10 lines on each arm and leg each night. I've can't remember how many meals I've skipped or forced myself to throw up.

I've never been one to write down or remember important days or milestones. Birthdays and holidays aren't even that big of a deal to me. But I wish I could remember the last time I've cut, the last time I threw up on purpose, the last time I seriously considered suicide. I'd through myself a party every year, hell, every month. When something has so much power over your life for so many years, that victory, every victory however small the increment, is worth celebrating.

Relapsing is one of the worst feelings in the world. Even if it's only after a day, I've been trying to stop. I've been trying to be better, to get better. And then I lost myself to myself. I felt so defeated, hopeless that I'd never fully recover. No one else can know how much effort I put in to not doing something that was my default therapy. No one else even knows that I screwed up again, or even in the first place. No one else knows and that's what makes it so hard. It was all on me. I didn't have a sponsor. I didn't have anyone. It was the world against me. But I just had to be that much stronger. And I'm not strong. I became strong. I found a courage inside myself that I didn't know was there. A courage, a strength that's in all of us. We just need help and time to find it again after so long of forgetting it for whatever reason.

I'm only a few years clean. Maybe less for certain things. The pain, the memory, the temptation are all fresh. I still have to be careful. I still have to guard myself, my heart and mind. I have to keep a careful watch my emotions. I have to know my limits and avoid certain situations. I'm good and getting better, but I'm not completely free. I may never be. But at least now I know I can win.

Therapy Tactics (self-harming) - How TV Saved Me: Don't try this at home (part 2)

This is how a Canadian show saved my life. Degrassi was one of the many, many shows I wasn’t allowed to watch. I also wasn’t allowed to go to movie theaters, not even to watch Winnie the fucking Pooh Bear. So because I knew my parents were simply wrong on that account, I decided I should throw out all the other rules too. Degrassi was on TeenNick so I saw all the commercial while watching regular Nick shows (also wasn’t allowed to watch Spongebob or Drake & Josh). So yeah, if case you didn’t know Degrassi is basically a high school soap drama, but shows real life problems and situations. It’s not Disneyfied to always have a magical happy ending. There’s a school shooting. Someone dies. The school mourns and it shows every stage of grief. A girl gets pregnant. We watch her struggle between choosing to keep the baby or have an abortion and how her friends and family react. So it is pretty hard to find a tv character that you can relate to 100%, but with so many characters I was able to relate to a few different characters that covered all my major bases. There were two bases that were not covered anywhere else in my limited knowledge of the whole world. One, there was a gay guy. Now days that’s not a huge surprise. Maybe not on Disney channel, but most shows now have at least one token gay character. Even Friends had a Lesbian wedding. But here was a gay guy about my age who struggled with coming out. His parents were homophobic. They kicked him out when they found out he was gay. I had that fear from the beginning. So that meant a lot to me to see someone facing the same real world shit I was dealing with. And they even follow his story with the all the normal struggles of dating. The same things you see on every show with straight people. It’s really not that different. It was refreshing to see that I have a chance at finding love and all its pain and suffering just like everyone else.

The second and more time sensitive and extremely controversial thing was seeing someone on screen self-harm. I hadn’t tried that yet.

Soul Sharing - Cutting Words

Walkthrough of "Cutting Words"

Why do I let words hurt me

More than these cuts and bruises

I bleed and bruise

Because I choose

To control some hurt

Make all else feel inert

There are so many reasons why people cut themselves or other forms of self-harming. One major reason is for control. You don't hurt yourself because your life is so great. You hurt yourself because you're already hurting and you can't control it. When you inflict pain upon yourself, you finally have control. How much pain. What kind of pain. To start and stop the pain. And the current pain, even if it's just temporary, makes you forget all the other pain in your life.

Why do I seek approval 

When I don’t approve of myself

I need to be wanted

Because I am haunted

Of being alone enough

That suicide won’t be a bluff

Cover up with sleeves to hide the scars even in the summer. When you're that depressed, you need to find comfort in other people. And if you don't then who knows what you might do on this path alone.

Why am I jealous of friendships

When I know that they all have to end

I know everyone leaves

Taking my treasure like thieves 

The only thing I desire

Is to not fall for another liar

When you rely on others for your sanity, you usually need them more than they need you. You tend to take everything personally and everything hurts more when it doesn't work out. It feels like they're stealing your happiness when they leave because they are your only source of happiness. And that makes it harder to open up to new friends since you're afraid of going through that painful process again.

Why do I feel a need to bleed

When I know I won’t live much longer

I live from day to day

Not knowing what to say

If anything at all

How badly I want to fall

Self-harming isn't the same thing as being suicidal. You might feel like you're in so much pain that you want to die. But you don't really want to die. You want to get better, but you don't know how. The only way you know to keep going is to self-harm. It's a way of self-medicating. It's a temporary solution that gets you to the next day. Well, it's not really a solution since it doesn't address the problem and because of that self-harming on its own will not get you to a place of healing. Without talking or working out the problem in a healthier way, you might just get to the point where you do want to die.

Poetry - Scars Remain

Scars remain

I remember the pain

The blood stain

The pouring rain

The smiles I feign

The fears that reign

Good old memory lane

Feeling insane

Shackles, the mental chains

The beating of the cane

Alone against the grain

The nightmare bane

The energy wane

Emotions drain

The burdens I retain

Poetry - Cutting Words

Why do I let words hurt me

More than these cuts and bruises

I bleed and bruise

Because I choose

To control some hurt

Make all else feel inert 

Why do I seek approval 

When I don’t approve of myself

I need to be wanted

Because I am haunted

Of being alone enough

That suicide won’t be a bluff

Why am I jealous of friendships

When I know that they all have to end

I know everyone leaves

Taking my treasure like thieves 

The only thing I desire

Is to not fall for another liar

Why do I feel a need to bleed

When I know I won’t live much longer

I live from day to day

Not knowing what to say

If anything at all

How badly I want to fall

Behind the Poem - Suicide Triggers

"Suicide Triggers"
Trigger Warning? Where do I start?
It gets better, but it never stops.
What I write; my whole life Is not for the faint of heart.

I’m a fan of starting the writing process with phrases like “where do I start” or “what am I doing.” I sort of got it from a Relient K song that starts with “Should I start this song off with a question?” And I’m a huge fan of Relient K and I’m sure they influenced a lot of my work subconsciously, and I enjoy writing parodies of their work. Ok but psychologically that kind of phrasing places the reader into a similar mind set as the writer. And “it gets better” is a pretty popular phrase from the campaign It Gets Better Project which actually personally helped me a lot seeing all those celebrities (some of whom I’ve crushed on) standing up and reaching out a hand to people like me. And along with the trigger warning theme from the title and first words is that the story I’m writing about my life isn’t for everyone. Some people who might be struggling could have a negative reaction (a trigger) and that’s the last thing I want. So please be aware of your situation when you’re reading or that of anyone who you might point towards my work.

The knife stopped twisting, but the scars remain,
On my arms, my heart and my mind.
They heal but I still feel Every cut every pain.

Yeah, I cut a lot and still have a lot of scars, but not all of them are physical or visible. My heart, both the stress on my body and my ability to connect with other people. My mind, well that’s where the triggers are involved.

Soul Sharing - Suicide Triggers

So this topic is really the heart of this blog. This specifically is why I decided to blog. There really just isn't anything much available to help with dealing after suicide attempts. So I decided to use my story to put something out there for others like me. 

So the biggest suicide trigger was a couple months ago watching tv. Basically there was a girl (middle school age?) who threatened and attempted suicide, and then when confronted admitted it. “Sometimes I just want to die.” It just hit me so hard. That was exactly how I felt at around that age. But when I threatened, no one took me seriously. Suicide has a way of blindsiding everyone. People don’t notice the signs because they either don’t know what they are or chose to ignore them because “So-and-So would never do that.” Well, I was certainly the last person you would expect to be suicidal at such a young age and for so many years consistently, and I guess I am really good at hiding everything really well. No one knew I was cutting everyday and night for a year or so, and in places more visible than my arms. But that’s another story for next week's topic of self-harming. This one is really about dealing with triggers. Triggers are anything that brings back all that pain so you feel like you’re experiencing it all over again. It’s a more common term for things like Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or any type of assault. 

But really triggers could be for anything. And if you are recovering from something more serious, then it’s very important to know your triggers and how to avoid them and cope with them the best way possible. And again that’s going to vary from person to person. But tv scenes like the one I described are one of my more common triggers. I’m not going to stop watching tv to avoid any possible trigger. That would be letting the trigger win. Sometimes you just have to confront it in a controlled environment. It helps for me to be alone and just cry it out. When something this heavy hits me so fast, everything kind of stops. I get disoriented and I fall onto my knees or curl up into a ball. I’ve learned not to fight it, but let it run its course. Usually for few seconds to a few minutes, but in the past it could have been hours. The more I would try to fight it or deny it, the more I would think about it. Crying is very therapeutic. I’ve cried many times until I ran out of tears, and then cried some more. As a guy who was never really very masculine, I felt like I had to train myself to not cry in front of people so if I was with people or in a crowded place, I’d run to the bathroom or just leave and walk it off. 

So that's my summary of suicide triggers. I'm constantly reminded about suicide, but I'm not suicidal anymore. I don't think about killing myself. I remember having tried to kill myself. And sometimes it's a shock to my system. Attempting suicide is a traumatic experience that I just have to find a way to live with. In the next post I'll walk through the poem and the specifics stories behind the lines.

Poetry - Suicide Triggers

Trigger Warning? Where do I start?

It gets better, but it never stops.

What I write; my whole life Is not for the faint of heart.

The knife stopped twisting, but the scars remain,

On my arms, my heart and my mind.

They heal but I still feel Every cut, every pain.

I don’t remember how many suicide attempts I’ve survived

Except that it was my favorite after school activity

From eleven to seventeen Poison laces any memories revived.

Suicidal memories have replaced suicidal thoughts.

It’s Russian roulette without a bullet.

There’s no pill for this ill but No Demons to be fought.

The trigger gets pulled and I fall to my knees.

Can’t breathe. Clutching my heart. Cloudy mind. Numb.

These tears are for fears That will never escape me.

Life progresses in either fast forward or slow motion,

Like life is passing by as reality constantly shifts

Triggering torment that I can’t forget Causing a caustic nauseous notion.

How the hell am I suppose to live with myself everyday

When the man in the mirror was my past potential killer?

I forgave him to save him But now what are we suppose to say?

It was Faith and fellowship that pulled me through

The proverbial fire that was my personal hell,

But it’s Grace and faces That pull my triggers too.

As much as I want to, I can never forget 

All my short comings, how far I’ve fallen;

It’s combined with how high I’ve climbed It’s a problematic set.

So anything can be my trigger at any time. 

I’m still learning how to cope with this post traumatic stress,

But every day proves another way That I can survive.

Suicide Songs: Tuesday

On Tuesday Brittany was teased for the last time.

She had the word slut carved into her arm.

No one ever suspected that she self-harmed.

She wore long sleeves but a short skirt

All the guys thought she was a tease 

And all the girls thought she was  a flirt

She was a virgin, never even kissed a boy

But that didn’t stop the lies that could not be appeased

She said no to the quarterback who tried to use her like a toy

He told everyone she slept with the entire team

And he told her he would rape her if she didn’t agree

She was scared and alone. Her mom was an alcoholic

Her step-dad abusive. Her cuts were simply symbolic,

A physical manifestation of all her emotional pain.

She wasn’t clinically depressed. She was completely sane.

She just cut too deep. 

And fell fast asleep. 

Suicide Songs: Intro

The last few weeks were an introduction to poetry and to myself. I started writing poetry because I was hopelessly depressed and I had no voice. I had no one to talk to. No one I trusted. I was alone. Alone in my pain. Poetry kept me alive. Poetry gave me life. Poetry gave structure to my chaos and confusion. I was mentally ill but wasn't sure. I didn't want to accept myself because I was afraid of what my family and church (i.e. everyone I knew) would do to me if they found out I was gay. So I tried to drown myself when I was 11. I started cutting myself when I was 15. I also stopped eating. I don't know how I would have survived without poetry. If I couldn't say everything I needed to say without actually saying it.

But as I mentioned in the mini-memoir, I did end up in a mental hospital when I was 16. It really was the best thing that could have happened to me. Even though the boy broke my heart and I let that screw up my most important friendship, I was no longer alone. There are so many people out there just like me. Suffering from the same depression and oppression. But that's where traditional therapy ends. It gives you the tools to overcome obstacles. It provides a system that reduces your risk of relapsing. But it can't make you forget. And I'll talk more about this next week.

For these next 7 days, I'm just going to share 7 stories. 7 completely different souls. 7 completely different circumstances. 7 same "solutions" to those 7 very different problems. Just 7 ways suicide happens in our society.

Therapy Tactics: Understanding Poetry and Therapy

So the straightforward theme that can be talked about in "Apathetic Artist" is cutting or self-harming. But as I revealed in the Soul section and my video post, the more subtle maybe even invisible theme of the poem for me is being polar. A mental illness that's invisible to everyone else, in my case at least since I've always had to hide my real emotions for other reasons which I'll talk about through other poems. So poems like this one made it possible for me to write down how I felt about deep personal shit that I wasn't ready or wiling to openly share with anyone because I didn't want to be seen as damaged or broken even if that's how I felt. But I can post my poems on Facebook and have my friends "like" it and comment on it. I can share the emotion without sharing the specifics.

Well, it's always a challenge trying to think of the best way to start about talking about a single issue of mine since I'm so complicated with so many issues that overlap and intertwine. I've been through so much in such a short amount of time. I'm only 21 so it's been a whole decade since my problems manifested in a significant life changing way. It's taken me some time to look back and see what was cause and effect and what was independently compacting my problems. So I'll try my best to focus on my bipolar issues for this post. Like I said in the last post, I knew something was wrong with me mentally when I was 15.

Soul Sharing: I'm Bipolar

For the Soul section, I'll walk through the poem line by line or stanza by stanza and explain why I wrote it. I'll talk about word selection, inspiration, multiple meanings, and where I placed a part of my soul in the piece. Let's begin.

"Apathetic Artist" 

First off, the tittle is alliterative which is one of my favorite and one of the easiest and most recognized poetic devices. You are going to see this a lot from me. For me, the title is usually a brief summary or my favorite line of the poem. A lot of times the title is the last thing and sometimes even the hardest part to write. This one came pretty naturally combing the first line and the theme of the poem.  And this is the first poem in my book of poetry because it embodies the theme and inspired the title of the book. (Spoilers!)