Now, You!

Now I’m alive to tell the story of how I’ve overcome A victor and not a victim written story The truth about my daily struggles and how it’s met with mercy and grace This isn’t a poem. This is more of a narrative written by a broken person being made whole My freedom doesn’t come from the world and doesn’t come from the words of men I’m not lucky, and my resiliency isn’t a genetic default but a gift of His Spirit A gift of His grace To people who read my blog and my writings, time are tough, and relief seems to be a way away Stay encouraged. Lean on your foundation for dear life. I live paycheck to paycheck I live on food stamps and a monthly gov’t check I never know if my benefits will be cut or continued. But, I lean on supernatural faith. I often have to ask myself whether I buy eggs this week of soymilk I recently lost my job So, understand, you are not alone. This is what I tell myself daily. The creator of the universe understands. Despite the current dilemma, I live with my bills paid, and I have more than enough food. How? I blame Jesus, for he says, “he will never forsake you (me), nor leave you as an orphan” I am writing more of my faith not to push it on people but because it’s my foundation. Who Jesus is to me, Buddha or Allah might be for someone else. I do not have the authority to call any of these deities wrong. They’re essential. I am in a spot to say it’s essential to have a spiritual creator and community to belong to. Even if it’s a community of no faith, a community to belong to is necessary. When we are together, we share the burden of life and strengthen one another. Times are tough, and we shouldn’t go through them alone. I struggle with bipolar disorder and schizophrenia and losing my job triggered an episode. It’s hard. Some days I’m energetic. Some days I want to sleep. Many days I feel there isn’t a point to it all. But I actively push through these negative thoughts because of my faith in Jesus and His Holy Spirit. I believe in Scripture. I know if God can be with me on the mountain tops, he is with me in the valley lows. I’ll fear no evil. I wish we would look at each other past the IG and FB pictures, ask what’s in your fridge and cabinets, and get honest about our struggles in life. That’s what people need, not this superficial stuff. It’s not helping us but tearing our souls apart. I’m being honest. I have not been overcome by the words of my testimony. I believe there will be more job opportunities. I will finish this current class with a minimum of an A-. I will stand firm on the rock of my faith, as will you. Be encouraged. Be honest. Be real. You will make my brothers, my sisters, and nonbinary siblings. I’m praying for you as Jesus prayed for believers. I’m praying that you succeed, your money goes farther, you enjoy your family, enjoy your job, find a new job, children and you succeed in school, you come to a flourishing end, you are equipped, well able, anointed, appointed, God loves you, God has grace, mercy for you. You will become all you set your mind, heart, and attitude to become. I’m praying in Jesus’ name over your life, family, career, and children, and you are happy. Be strong; you will walk and not weary; you will walk and not faint. -Amen .

Depression; defeat and conquer

When I think about depression, I think about two words “defeat and conquer”. Depression is a bitch, and there honestly nothing poetic I can say about it. It steals your life, and its a battle to survive. As if life isn’t hard enough. I’m diagnoses with bioschizoaffective disorder, a fancy way of saying bipolar disorder and schizophrenia. A world of chaos. One day I’ll write about my mania and psychosis. Not today.

Depression starts off feeling like minor aches in your body, and then comes fatigue, you may feel like your getting a cold. So you rest, naturally and then the next morning your can’t get out of bed and if you’re like me, you just said “Fuck, I’m crashing”. You spend about an hour coaching yourself out of bed to get to work, putting on the morning radio, but then you’re annoyed by the sound of others people morning joy. So you turn it off. Taking a shower is like world war 3, and all you visualize is the lost of lives and you’re not sure how to keep going.

By now I’m debating if I want to call out of work, so then I rationalize my choices, miss a day of pay or fight. Fight it is! You’re dressed and running late, so no breakfast. Now you have no energy to start your day off because of the chemicals in your brain, but also because you lacked your basic needs of necessity. Coffee, is the solution, and you fake the day through. I work as a barista and I realize I’ve drank about 10  shots of espresso by 11am, because my brain levels are off, and I’m depressed. The only thing that consumes my mind is either killing myself, or sleeping it away.

Mind you, the first person I should have called was my psychiatrist, but nope I text my friend. As if they have the magic pill to take away my pain. Sometimes this mean people will go out and drink, but for me it becomes crippling, and if you’ve never experienced what I’m talking about you don’t really know. You’re annoyed, and irritated with life. You’re contemplating ending your life and it’s tiring. Your friends says “this too shall pass” and with as much truth it holds, you know that it might not. This could be that one depressive episode that destroys it all, and you kill yourself. So, what I did was tell my friend to “fuck off”.

It’s 4pm and you have homework to do, but you just getting home from work, and you can’t focus on anything but your despair. You take your 9pm meds at 4:30 pm and just sleep hoping tomorrow will be better, you don’t shower, nor brush your teeth or eat dinner. It’s all to much. Your brain is telling you to end your life and resting is your only peace.

You’re asleep.  Dreaming about death, and you feel a coat of black death and a sense of heaviness overcome you, like God has just abandon you and Satan is in your bed.

What do you do?

Call your doctor? Call your therapist?

No!

You call out of work, no homework, laundry is pilling up and you haven’t showered in four days, and you need help.

One time I called 911 and just went to the hospital. I was so suicidal and depressed I become psychotic in the most miserable way and was hospitalized for two months. On 1:1 because if I was left alone I’d hurt myself. Staff had to help me shower because I couldn’t take care of myself.

This time, I have more trained support around me, and my doctor is notified and I get a medicine increased. I shower for 5 minutes and really fast. I brush my teeth and never look back at my bed, because if I do, I’ll never get back up. I do things in little sparks of energy, and rest when needed. I’ve learned to how to be depressed. I think about killing myself and then I rationalized through question: “is the forever or temporary?”

I’m depressed and this is my story, this is my pattern. I’m changing it though with every episode. I remember how I was so depressed and crippled by it last semester I did a few assignments a day, and just slept. No work. Then after a test it felt like a touch from the heavens and the depression was lifted. Like my new medicine just made contact with the right part of my brain and I was healed.

I’m waiting for that magic to happen again. I’m going to work, not calling out. I’m showering. But I’m resting a lot. I went to bed at 7pm last night and work up at 11am. I’m not really smiling and my thoughts are tormented by suicidal ideas. I’m doing a lot better than before. I’m making progress and its brings me a sense of hope.

I would suggest to the next person who stumbles across this post and can relate, reach out before it’s to late. Even if you tell your provider or someone “I’m crashing” you won’t have to crash alone. I wrote a blog that is titled “I’ll Make It” and I read it to remind myself that I will. So you will too. I want to say God is there, and he hears you but I don’t feel comforted by that during this episode. It makes me angry and confused. What I will say is that God will provide you with the tools and people to get you through, you just have to identify them.

 

God Bless. (sorry for the grammar mistakes, I needed to write this, when my mood is up I’ll edit it.)

Domenia Dickey

 

“Do you boo!”

What do you do when you don’t feel understood? When you open your voice to speak and nothing comes out. Who do you turn to, when all you get are voice mails? What do you do when you look in the mirror and you can’t recognize your own face? Some people expect you to just get “over” the actions of others, and move on. When it’s not that easy. Sometimes shit hurts and you need to cry, it doesn’t just go away-I mean it didn’t “just happen.” What do you say to yourself, when it seems like you can’t get right, and are the Hebrews running around that mountain, and all you need is a GPS? What do you say to yourself when all you want is a little direction, and instead you get criticism? What happens when it feels like a “prayer” isn’t enough?

What do you do?

If I say scream, there’s a chance you will be seen as odd. If I say cry, there is a chance you will be seen as depressed, and unstable. If I say walk away, then you’ll be observed as cold-hearted. If I say “do you” then you might just be perceived as an individual with an attitude.

What do you do?

Remember that one bible scripture that points out Jesus’s humanity, “Jesus wept.” Remember that within each deity, there was once humanity.

So, what do you do?

Cry! Scream! “Boo, do you!”

Others will always judge you. Not everyone will understand you. Pain is not something you just get over, it’s your journey, and don’t let it hinder you. Don’t let stigma define you, and don’t let trials and tribulations become you. Allow it to become a catalyst and not an end. Use your pain, hurt, fear and everything else as a way to motivate you; to motivate others. Never stop living, achieve your highest goals. If you fall 100 times, at least you got up!

So, what do you do?

LIVE!

 

 

How I met God, in a homeless man!

I was just fired from my job two days ago. I still don’t have a job. I’m living off of 300$ and trying to budget. I’ve cried, I’ve prayed and now I have to take action. So, are you wondering why I was fired? I was fired because as my boss put “its business.”

I’m a barista, and as a barista you’re expected to fast and efficient. I’m a barista with a secret. That’s not so much a secret. I have a mental illness. I just started this job, I was three days on the job, and, we hit a busy day. That one day I started a new medication and I wasn’t fast enough. It’s the second time that I’ve felt handicap or disabled.

I explained to him that I needed this job, to pay for my insurance, to pay for medication. “I know, but its business.” I didn’t matter, what I could do for him mattered. The effort I put, the early hours, the job I had quit and one I didn’t take for this one job, it all didn’t matter. “Its business.”

I felt angry with my self, angry with God. I felt misunderstood, and concerned. Because now I’m choosing between my health and food. I shop at this health food market, and there is this man that sits outside, and ask for help to feed him. He’s homeless. I saw this as a moment to give back to God, even though I was hurting, and my life was uncertain.

Me: Can I get you something.

Scooter: A Chicken, from inside the store. A prayer, and conversation.

I assumed that he was a beggar, and probably on drugs. I judge. Then I remembered I was homeless seven months ago, when my foster parents kicked me out. I had nowhere to go. No one to feed me. Nothing! I was no different from Scooter. No one even stopped to get to know his name. He has two dogs with him, friendly dogs. A woman offered to feed them but not him. When he said, a chicken that cost me 8.11$ could feed them both. He also wanted a prayer, and conversation. Not money, he wasn’t on drugs. He wasn’t picky.

That was the best 8.11$ I’ve ever spent. I prayed ever since I heard a lecture and asked God, to send me moments where I could be a blessing and do the work he commanded. I didn’t do this for sympathy or for praise; I’ve just realized that there are a lot of homeless people where, if you can’t donate food, money; a prayer and conversation will be just as good. Scooter is jobless, so am I. He has a heart, and a soul. He matters.

I thought I lost everything. I’ve put my anxiety out there, and am not sure how I can continue to afford my basic needs. All because I have an illness, and a man thought making money was more important. God still gave me enough to share with someone else, to do something greater than myself, and I wanted to tell Scooter that there is good out there and a path is there for him. More than anything, God loves Him. All I said was God Bless you, after our brief conversation.

Then when I walked away, and looked back he was Gone! There was no way he could have walked that fast. I believe he was my angel to meet, and gave me so much hope and inspiration. I have faith, that God will provide in my time of need, another job will come. I just have to remain faithful, and do my earthly duties. I have three job interviews next week, and I will walk and talk with confidence and pray that the one that’s meant for me, God will open the doors for me. I’ve been blessed with a home, a family and so far mental health treatment. I’ll make it, because God is with me, and will never let me or your fall. I believe that when I talked to Scooted, and gave him the chicken it was a spiritual encounter and I met God in human form. I’m not sure how to explain it. Scooter was my angel and divine encounter. Like the woman in the bible who washed Jesus’s feet with her hair. I was able to feed one of his messengers; and the message was “God be with you!”

-Domenia Dickey