SHADOW WARRIORS stories of hope living with depression
MY WEE TALE
Me and my shadow
Hi this is my story about me and my wee friend the shadow,
At 52 i find myself in an old rusty truck living a simple life here in the Scottish mountains and along with my wife Mel oor 2 wee cats Wilkie and Chloe , i can say i have never been happier , aye my wee friend visits still but i have learnt to welcome him into my life.
For many many years i battled against my depression until in 1996/7 the fight for me seemed useless and i had had enough , the way out of the darkness became harder and harder the doors one by one disappeared and during that time i tried to commit suicide on several occasions .
The days leading up to my suicide attempt that i thought i had succeeded are as vivid now as if it was yesterday , A number of actions shall i call them had meant the darkness had got darker the keys that had worked in the past to help me through no longer worked.
I felt as though i was running round in ever decreasing circles no matter which key on whatever door i tried it would not open ….
Until the day even the doors disappeared and looking down to where i had placed the keys they to had vanished , all light had gone all hope had floated away .
With pills and booze i headed up the road to the Fruin ..
I started to come around in Hospital although i had been able to walk there escorted by the police , i had GONE
through the mist voices behind the material screen drifted to my ears
two nurses were speaking
“ WHY SHOULD WE TREAT THE LIKES OF HIM. I HAVE FAR MORE BETTER THINGS TO DO”
to this day those words pop into my wee heed , but noo they make me smile.
I have always believed that we have the ability to heal ourselves and to this end have shied away from doctors and medication .
In the end though my now wife Mel convinced me to go and see the local Doctor , he was kind and sat and listened no feeling of time intruded as i told him my story .
At the end of my visit he handed me a prescription and i left.
For a couple of weeks i took the drugs , but slowly i could feel myself slipping further into my depression in fact it felt because of the drugs i had no control at all.
Then one day i tossed the drugs in the bin and headed to the mountains .
For months i screamed inside and out …
Then one morning i got up and the shadow had gone , simply vanished , happiness and hope had both returned ..
The mountains and the surrounding nature had seemed to take my spirit and wash it clean .
With new drive and dreams i headed doon the road . but the day that rings oot for me was when Mel said i should het a laptop .
“NO, NO WAY” but somehow she convinced me to go to the shop and buy one .
Now and because of that day i know that my wee friend and i truly count him as a friend my wee shadow live happily , and through my art pictures , tales and films i am able to journey knowing i will never return to the ABYSS..
I am a lot more careful who i let into my life now .
But looking out into the world from my wee tin can i am happy and when i get comments emails etc about how i have inspired someone across the globe i now know why i survived my leap into the abyss ..
LOVE AND LIGHT
guard the keys my friend
Ps i now have many keys from the wee flowers to the mighty storms
A wee poem and some words from a special friend
A poem by Andy Daniels :
Others may not realize
Madness they have caused
My soul stinging deep inside
Behind bolted doors
Vulnerable but much too young
And always insecure
No laughter here from anyone
Behind bolted doors
Hidden anguish so much shame
Guilt and so much more
Spirit burning like a flame
Behind bolted doors
Here I stay where life is hell
Haunted emotions roar
Trapped inside my lonely shell
Behind bolted doors
Forgotten memories don’t hide
They live within us
We may feel guilty and regret
We can’t forget
Forgotten memories belong
Back there in the past
They say we learn
Insane nightmares still return
Forgotten memories are seen
Remaining in our
All so difficult
Depression is a private war
Like burning ashes
Bringing tears to our eyes
We learn to block them our lives
(Wrote that one a few seconds ago)
Crying is a release valve we all have whether it's to show grief, fear, sadness or pure joy. These water spouts, conveniently placed in our eyes, need to flow freely. Cleansing our sight, purifying our hearts and connecting us with one another to open our hearts with compassion. I've always said, "I don't trust a man, or person, who doesn't cry." Sadly, many teach their children to block this natural tool so they hold back in life thinking they are weak if they do shed a tear. Ever notice when you do let the cleansing waters out, to do their job of releasing whatever is bothering you, how much lighter, and better you feel? How could something so tiny as a tear bring about such relief from heaviness or heartfelt love? Because we were instilled with this beautiful mechanism of crying from birth, to lighten our loads, as well as celebrate our very existence into this world. Love a man who freely cries! To me that is a true sign of manhood.
A wee tale from a friend that wants her name withheld
Below is a wee tale from a friend , many thanks for this wonderful story
Long story short: I was abused as a child through to my teens by my father (in pretty much all senses of the word). No-one read the distress signals I sent out. The whole lot got buried, *I* got buried - pretty much a walking shell. By 24 I was desperately unhappy, made a serious attempt to end my life. I received a compulsory counselling session - I was asked about my parents, which (at the time) seemed a very odd thing to ask - the whole of my childhood was blurred so much I believed the whole problem was me, nothing to do with my parents. A whole can of worms got opened up. Over the years I sank into deeper depression, tried again to take my life. Then at 30 I began to notice something. I noticed that people who smoked benefitted from it in several ways - firstly it acts as a crutch (and I didn't have any of those)..... when you walk into a room full of people you don't know, rather than be swallowed whole by your awkward shyness, your tobacco tin is a friend. It's ALWAYS there. You can sit by yourself, roll yourself a cigarette, smoke it and watch the whole world go by without feeling out of place anymore. Secondly, it buys you time (strangely enough!). I'd noticed with my ex husband (who smoked) that when anyone asked him a question, the time it took him to inhale, hold, and exhale bought him time to think about his answer, how to respond. Thirdly, there's a real sense of community amongst smokers that is often missing from the non-smoking world. Got no papers? You can go and ask anther smoker for one (somehow the need gives you the courage to ask!). Got no light? Other smokers will gladly share and in so doing, conversations are struck up that in all probability wouldn't have otherwise (if you're shy). Got papers, light, but no tobacco? You may well find someone with tobacco but no papers or light - that mutual need encourages sharing!
To some it may sound a dumb way of going about things but at 30 I was digging myself into a hole deeper and deeper. I had 3 kids who needed me by that time. I HAD to do something to turn my life around. Within a week of teaching myself to smoke, I decided to smoke a little of the substance that changes the way you see EVERYTHING! The one that expands your mind, opens out your world view and shows you the Bigger picture. From there there was no turning back - I was on my way to self-healing! And here I am, 49 in a few months and a changed person! And that's how it saved my life!
love and light again my friend
Story of hope by our friend Sylvia van Bruggen
In 1998 I headed to the OB/GYN because we couldn't get pregnant. He found a lot of problems with my uterus, and prescribed me hormones to deal with most of them.
Within weeks I was a shell of my self. I was deeply depressed and didn't want to come out of bed anymore.
A long journey followed. I sank in deeper and deeper until I was in such darkness I found myself in the kitchen, standing with a knife at my wrist.
I saved myself there. I knew I couldn't live like that anymore, but I also didn't want to die. Something better was there.
I returned to my childhood love, writing, and wrote myself out of the depression. I also rediscovered art, and photography. The final link came when I reconnected with the child in me. I found my joy again and the deep love that connects me to mother Earth.
I have now made this discovery a big part of my life, teaching others to do the same. It is a gift my depression gave me. I am grateful for that darkness, because in the darkness, I found my self.
I have a blog over here: http://sylviavanbruggen.blogspot.com/ with some of my poetry and some short stories (just click the tags in the sidebar). Some of my art is on the blog and here on facebook, just posted a new piece yesterday. Don't have an art site yet, really need to make one
And of course there's http://www.playfulsoulwork.com/ where I get people to meet their inner two year old
love and light my friend
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Love and light
Love and light
Creative Boom Scotland
Quick links to various pages/sites within the Blackbus blog
- My journey into the Abyss a brush with suicide
- Just me thinking out loud
- Some off my posts over the last year
- Mels poetry
- Some fellow bloggers i follow
- Living off the grid
- Blackbus and horsebox conversions
- My photo shop/gallery and you tube films
- Blackbus blog reviews on Link referal
- My blog feeds
- Blackbus on Facebook
- Blackbus on FLICKR
- Follow us on Twitter
- Turn your blog into a BOOK
- Useful resources for your web/site
- Free Food and resources
- good sites to wonder too