Category: Evolve

I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day-
And you break free from the chains
Yeah, I know that there is pain
But you hold on for one more day and you
Break free, break from the chains

Don’t you know, things can change?                                                            
Things will go your way
If you hold on for one more day
Can you hold on for one more day?
Things will go your way
Hold on for one more day

(from Wilson Phillips song, “Hold On”)

This particular song is not about suicide, but the words relate to the message in my story below. During some of the more difficult times in my life I would think about these words and try to believe them to be true, that if I held on for a while, maybe just one more day, things would get better for me. 

There has been a lot of news stories lately about suicide, and suicide prevention efforts. As a mental health professional I have some experience with prevention and interventions regarding how to help people who are thinking about committing suicide. Beyond that, sadly, I also have some personal experience with attempting suicide.

When I was a child my household was one of violence and abuse. It was also a household of apathy, one in which there was no caring about me. No acknowledgement  that I existed except to tell me to “go away and don’t bother me.” My father was out of the house by the time I was about nine years old, and my mother, while physically present in the house, was emotionally and mentally absent for as long as I can remember. My older brother was disturbed (a polite word for mentally ill) and unfortunately directed his anger and violence toward me. The physical abuse escalated over the years, but it was the apathy that was the most difficult part of growing up in this environment and the basis for my suicide attempts when I was young.

I attempted suicide twice, once with pills and once by cutting my wrists. Over the years as an adult I always knew about the pills, but it was not until I was in my forties that I remembered the cutting incident. Neither time did I really want to die. I was just desperate for someone, anyone, to care enough to help me. Before the attempts to end my life, I had tried to show others I needed help; tried in many other ways, but nothing worked.  Eventually the screaming inside led me to using the pills and the cutting in the hopes someone, anyone, would notice what was happening and help me. 

Unfortunately neither suicide attempt changed that apathetic environment I was living in. My mother’s response to my suicidal actions was one of annoyance. She was irritated that I bothered her. So her mantra of “don’t bother me” continued. Fortunately, neither of my suicide attempts were successful.

I tell this story, not for sympathy, but to let you and others know what I think could be behind many young people’s suicide attempts. It is possible that, like me, they really do not want to die, but could be desperately wanting someone to see their pain and help them. Noticing the signs of pain and depression early on can help parents, teachers, and others to reach out to those young people before it becomes a life and death situation. Maybe in our ongoing attempts at suicide prevention we keep in mind that helping these suffering kids, in fact all kids, to be heard and acknowledged can be an important first step.

I am glad I failed at suicide. I am glad I held on for one more day. Life did not get much better for me as a child, but life did get better. I was able to eventually break the chains of violence and abuse. I found people who would help me because I hung on, and hung on, and hung on. My hope in telling this story is that others who are in bad situations will hold on, hold on for one more day. For one more week. For one more month. For one more year.  Hold on until they too can say

Failed at Suicide, Thank Goodness.

Change, Grow, Evolve

Summing up my life in these two questions will certainly help me focus on what I consider to be the most important aspects of the last seventy-six years.  Of course, this is only my perspective of my life, and only from the perspective that I have today.

Looking back to where I have been I see a very unhappy child, raised without nurturing.  There were parents, two in the beginning.  There was an older brother, not my ally.  I knew it was a place that caused me great anguish, but I accepted it as normal.  Today I know better; it was anything but normal.  However, that childhood did have an enormous impact on who I am today.

When I became an adult at the ripe old age of eighteen, I got married and had children.  I had wanted to attend college, for I loved school.  In spite of knowing that I really wanted to wait to get married, I went ahead and did that, mostly in order to get out of a violent household.  My marriage lasted for fourteen years and then ended in divorce.  I was faced with taking care of two children on my own with only harassment from their father.  It began the most challenging and the most exciting time of my life.

With the help of some great people, I spent the next few years learning about myself.  I learned what a special person I was, and therefore, learned how special other people were also.  I learned that the world was full of wonderful things and wonderful people, and I went on a quest to discover all I could about both.

I excelled in my business career but still wanted to fulfill my dream of attending college.  In my forties, I decided to walk away from a lucrative business career in management and marketing to become a fulltime student.  It was one of the best decisions of my life.  Ultimately, I earned undergraduate and graduate degrees; next, came a license as a marriage family counselor.  Combined with my degrees and license I became a practicing mental health therapist and later an instructor in a professional counseling program at a university.  Years passed as I pursued both careers and that part of my life was good.

My personal life was not always as good.  Over the years there were many joys, and many challenges in my family life.  One of my greatest joys was when my son got married and he and his wife gave me two wonderful granddaughters.  There were many good years having these beautiful girls in my life, attending dance events, school events, and holiday celebrations.  They were the light of my life!  Alas, that changed, and this light has gone dim, for I have not seen these granddaughters in several years.  My hope is that someday I will be in their lives once again.

While that part of my family life has been challenging, the other part of my family, life with my daughter has been interesting and exciting.  When my daughter was young, we had issues, but we worked on those issues and now we are very close.  Close emotionally, and close geographically.  Really close geographically – we live together!  Sheri has been there for me through many challenges, most notably my recent health issues.  I am very grateful to have her in my life.  

Now looking beyond my current seventy-six years leads me to where I am going next.  That’s easy.  I am going to continue to explore what is important to me—people and personal growth.  I will do this through my writing, my teaching, my travels, and my relationships with the people in my life.  I have discovered that by being the best I am capable of being, I offer the best to others and this then helps me to better recognize the best in others.  

Where have you been?  Where are you now?  Where will you be tomorrow?  

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

I find it interesting how human resilience ebbs and flows throughout our lives.  It can seem to disappear and then reassert itself if given time.  Below are two passages I wrote independently of each other.  What a difference time and healing can make!

Written 11/27/2022

I expected my cancer to have profound effects on my body, and it did.  I lost my hair.  I lost 14 lymph nodes.  I lost my energy. And on and on it goes.  What I did not expect was how the cancer affected my state of mind. 

I lost hope.

I lost joy.

I lost interest in all things and all people.

I lost my faith that all will be okay. 

I lost my belief that anything is possible.

I lost MYSELF!

________________________________________

Written 12/12/2022

I have spent almost all of 2022 dealing with my cancer diagnosis.  From finding the lump, to the mammogram, to the biopsy, to the chemotherapy, to the surgery, to the fluid accumulation issues, to the radiation, to the . . .

It went on and on while the rest of my life was put on hold.  Now my treatments are completed, my energy is improving, and my depression is gone.  So, what now?

After focusing my entire being on fighting cancer for so long, I feel kind of lost without that focus.  Do not get me wrong – I am glad to be done with treatments and celebrate that my cancer treatments were successful.  But spending so much time dedicated to just that one part of my life has left me with a void of some type. 

It may be how a prisoner feels after serving their incarceration and then being released.  In fact, I did feel like a prisoner much of the time this last year.  A prisoner of this terrible disease called cancer.  I felt trapped in a way, trapped in a cell that so many others have served time in.  During this last year I became aware of how insidious this disease is, of how so many are afflicted with it themselves, or have loved ones who are dealing with it. 

I am free now, sort of; the fear of a return of the cancer is sometimes lurking in the background.  However, I am not going to think about that, and I am going to celebrate my life again, with an acute awareness of how fragile the time we have on this earth can be. 

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

I am now a radiation patient.  Radiation is the third step of the treatment my doctors have said will kill my cancer and prevent it from returning.

I have radiation five days a week on the right side of my body, basically under the arm and around my breast.  I have gotten used to the indignity of the hospital gown, the baring of my breast area and being manipulated by technicians so that I am in the exact correct position for the radiation “beam” to hit me.  Don’t get me wrong, the people at the radiation center are great.  They are patient, respectful, and very caring.  However, it is still not a comfortable procedure.

During the course of my radiation treatments I have to hold my breath several times.  This helps them get the radiation to where it needs to go.  Once the Techs are done positioning me, they leave the room and the room is sealed up.  Then it is just me and the huge machine.  Through a microphone, the technician will tell me when I need to hold my breath.  The “beam” starts its work and when it finishes, I hear the Tech say, “You can breathe.”

This whole process reminds me of how my life has been throughout this year.  I have been holding my breath (figurative speaking) since I was diagnosed with cancer at the beginning of 2022.  Holding my breath with each blood test.  Holding my breath with each imaging test.  Holding my breath with each consult with various doctors.  I have been waiting to reach the end of my cancer treatments.  Holding my breath for the time when I can get back to normal.  Waiting for the fears to subside.  Waiting for someone to say to me, “You are cancer free” so I can now go ahead and live my life.  Waiting for someone to say

You Can Breathe

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

It starts with the diagnosis of cancer.  Next comes the treatment recommendation — chemotherapy.  We all know what that means. 

Losing hair is often a consequence of this diagnosis and treatment recommendation.  It takes a while to happen, for the hair to start coming out; for some it will start as quickly as two weeks after the first chemo treatment.  Many will hope that they would be one of the few who do not lose their hair, but mostly that is not to be.

Once my hair loss started I would deliberately go through my hair with my fingers to remove loose hairs every day.  The hair was getting into everything so I wanted to try to control it in some way.  Maybe this made me feel I still had some power over something, over how it was going to happen.  I collected the hair in a baggie.  Not sure what I will do with this collected hair, but it seems important to keep it, as a reminder of what used to be.

It may seem that the physical loss of hair for some female cancer patients is the worst part of chemotherapy; I would beg to differ.  The loss of hair is not the end of losses these women face, that I face; it is only part of the journey.  For some cancer patients, there can be other losses. 

The loss of a sense of normalcy.  A normal day is to be no more.

The loss of femininity.  The bareness above creates a bareness within.  We look at ourselves differently now; others look at us differently too.

The loss of hope.  Hope that life will be good again; hope that we will feel good again.

The loss of control over the simplest things in life; control over any part of our life.

The loss of innocence.  We no longer are the same; we no longer face life the same.

Losing all our hair will not affect every woman the same, but it definitely will affect us all in some way.  These losses are real, but maybe in time we can replace our lost hair with a new awareness of the preciousness of life.  A new awareness of living each day to its fullest.  A new awareness of the importance of loving and being loved by the people in our lives.  In that way, when our hair eventually grows back, so will our hope that life is good!

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

WHATEVER IS, IS BEST                                      
I know as my life grows older
    And mine eyes have clearer sight,
That under each rank wrong somewhere
    There lies the root of Right;
That each sorrow has its purpose,
    By the sorrowing oft unguessed;
But as sure as the sun brings morning,
    Whatever is, is best.

I know that each sinful action,
    As sure as the night brings shade,
Is somewhere, some time punished,
    Though the hour be long delayed.
I know that the soul is aided
    Sometimes by the heart’s unrest,
And to grow means often to suffer–
    But whatever is, is best.

I know there are no errors
    In the great Eternal plan,
And all things work together
    For the final good of man.
And I know when my soul speeds onward,
    In its grand eternal quest,
I shall say as I look back earthward,
    Whatever is, is best.  

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The above is one of my favorite poems and one which summarizes how I have viewed life itself over the years.  I have always thought that things, good or bad, happen for a reason.  I believed that we can learn from each life occurrence and that as we learn we are prepared for the next life lesson that is ahead. 

But now I have cancer and even though I still believe what is happening to me must have some purpose, I find it harder to easily maintain the perspective, “whatever is, is best.”

It is hard to believe that having cancer is best in any way whatsoever.  It is hard to believe that having cancer is a lesson that is needed in my life in any possible way.  How can having cancer be best for me?  For anyone?

The final stanza of the poem states that “when my soul speeds onward, in its grand eternal quest, I shall say as I look back earthward, whatever is, is best.”  I hope this is true for me, and true for all cancer patients.  For it will be from this looking back that we can find purpose for the illness that has so infected our lives and the lives of those that love us.  For me, it will be with great joy that I see this purpose and celebrate that I was one of the lucky ones, one of the many that have navigated the cancer road.

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

WALLS . . .

This article is dedicated to all the survivors of childhood abuse.

Because of our abusive pasts, especially at the hands of “trusted” individuals in our lives, we have learned to protect ourselves by building walls around us and by sometimes avoiding contact with people in general.  In our childhood search for the nurturing, loving parent we never had, but definitely deserved, we sought out others to fulfill that immense void in our lives.  As a loving, trusting child we sometimes found another person, who after winning our affection, turned on us and also inflicted pain.  Because of these experiences we learned not to trust anyone, thus keeping ourselves as safe as possible.  This ultimately resulted in true isolation, sometimes a withdrawal from life itself through the use of drugs and attempted suicides. We hid behind our walls.

For many years we have been engaged in a challenging process to learn how to let healthy people into our lives.  We have overcome many of the scars from our pasts, and are determined to overcome even more.  We want to increase our ability to connect with people, and to look forward to it, rather than dread it.  And we can do that, but first we must give up some old patterns of behavior.  The automatic response of withdrawing or barricading that was our saving grace as children, now is our new enemy,  Alas, not only do walls keep others from coming in, but they also keep us from going out, making us prisoners in our own environment.

Our resiliency and determination helped us find a way out of that early prison.  Just like we found the door to our own homes, opened it and went out into the world, we must now find this other door, the door that is in the walls we use as a barricade.  This door will have a peephole, for we must sometimes still look before we open the door.  However, we must not take too long to look before opening the door, for people sometimes will think no one is inside and they will leave.  Not only will we then lose our chance to meet and connect with that person, but that person also loses.  They will be losing the chance to know us, individuals who in spite of the battles of our pasts, or maybe because of them, have much love to give.

While many use childhood abuse as an excuse to hurt others, we have used it to motivate us to offer to our own friends and families the love and nurturing we never received as children.   We have developed the instincts, the intelligence and other resources we did not have as children to discern who we will want to let in and who we will not.  This we have proven to ourselves in our connections with our families and our friends.  Look at our choice of friends, the ones we are willing to “share our soul with” and the ones who stick with us for years and beyond.  These friends have a privileged view of us that many others never get to see, for it is in the sharing of our souls that connects us to others in a way beyond human definition.  We have loved and are loved by others.  Some of us have yet to overcome our early trauma, have yet to learn how to develop true intimacy with people.  We know the battle scars that are ours can finally be replaced with love and connection, if we will trust ourselves even more now as the powerful human beings we are, and allow others into our lives.

However, our tendency still might be to protect ourselves and sometimes, maybe oftentimes, that means barricading ourselves once again behind those old walls. Beyond what we have accomplished, which is much, it is nothing compared to what we will accomplish in the future, should we decide to open ourselves to others as we have done to those chosen few in our lives.  Our task now is to accept the challenge of our lives, the one that could bring us the most joy, both personally and professionally: to trust ourselves enough to let others love us and turn some of our walls into

. . . DOORS

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

There have been times in my life that something would happen that seemed very ordinary.  For example, I would casually meet a person, who seemed nice enough but after meeting this new person, I go on about my business.  However, once in a while that casual encounter, that insignificant meeting, becomes what I have lovingly come to term a “Peak Moment.”

Peak moments are not easy to spot, for they are not accompanied by fireworks or rockets.  Peak moments, actually, only become peak moments long after the actual period of the incident.  Peak moments can only be spotted when looking back on our lives, never when looking forward, and seldom when in the present as they are happening.  They are about relationships.  It is about establishing a connection with someone that you would have never guessed you would have a relationship with at all, much less a special bond.  For you see, peak moments do not happen in the head, nor even in the heart.  Peak moments, for me, happen at the level of the soul.

This journey that we are on as human beings takes place on many distinct levels.  Our jobs, for instance, usually take place on the thinking and doing level.  Oh, we can really be committed to our careers, and can have some outstanding moments and all that.  But it is mostly a cognitive perspective that we are required to use.  A peak moment happens, or does not happen, less on a cognitive, conscious level, than on a spiritual, subconscious level.

Because it is not planned, nor are the people present even aware of the importance of what is happening, a peak moment really evolves naturally.  These chance encounters take place in an almost off-handed way.  They are the most casual of moments, which could so easily go unnoticed forever in the lives of the two individuals involved.  And yet, even the most insignificant remark, or look, or gesture, can be the thing that starts a connection with another that will profoundly change the lives of the people forever.

My friend Leah and I experienced just such a moment.  If anyone would have asked Leah or I what we thought of each other, we would not have included even casual friend as the remotest possibility.  And yet, Leah and I fulfilled a purpose in each other’s lives at the exact place in time that we were meant to.  We became special friends, friends that will be connected throughout our lives, regardless of time or space that could keep us apart.  That connection began as a casual encounter that became our peak moment.  We can both look back and identify the instant that our connection to each other began.  We grew our friendship over time, but the moment of conception of that friendship was such a casual encounter, such a simple remark made, that it could have so easily not taken place.

For me, that’s the basis of my peak moments.  It is when I look back on a special relationship and realize that the likelihood of the relationship with this person was incredibly small.  And the moment of conception, so insignificant, that it would have been easy to miss it.  And therefore, miss an incredible relationship.  A peak moment for me is a simple gesture of human kindness, that in our busy lives, we often neglect to offer another.  Something so small and seemingly unimportant, that the moment passes and, perhaps with it the connection of a lifetime.

The beginnings of friendship are not always clear and blatant.  Some of the most important relationships I have started out as the tiniest of seeds.  I would not even know a seed had been planted until much later as it grew to significant proportions.  From the tiny acorn, grows a mighty oak.  From a tiny moment of human contact, grows a lifetime connection of the spirit. 

I’m convinced that I miss many peak moments, but I have been lucky; I have also experienced a few.  I am aware that at any given time a peak moment may be happening.  Unfortunately, or is it fortunately, I will not recognize it until long after I realize the results, until I feel that special connection with another.  Without knowing which moments will make a significant difference in my life, I know I will need to remain open to all encounters I have with others and always offer that simple gesture of human kindness. 

What are some of your peak moments? 

Change, Grow, Evolve

©bcreed

For those of you that have not read my first story about weeds, here is a summary:

Weeds are not deterred by any so called “weed barrier” or any concrete or any asphalt.  They are pushy.  They are persistent.  They are determined to endure.  They are resilient and will survive any challenges, adapting to the circumstances they encounter.  They are going to live as they are destined to live and they do not let obstacles stop them.  Like a weed, there are people in this world who find a way to be just as strong and just as resilient!

I think that most of us (at least those of us with gray hair!) have known a person or persons who have the qualities I described in my Weed Story.  You know the ones, the people who seem to be able to overcome any challenges, who endure difficulties with determination, and break through their barriers to continue with life on their terms.  Here is my tribute to one such person.

Ray is the husband of one of my dearest friends whom I have known over 50 years.  I guess it would be fair to say that Ray is my friend too.  Ray has faced many barriers, many challenges, and many obstacles in his life.  He has had many health concerns, including heart bypass surgery and more than one bout with cancer.  If anyone is entitled to complain and whine about how life has done him wrong, it is Ray. 

However, I have never heard him complain, never seen him when he was negative or angry at the world for what he has been through.  I know there had to be times when he was down, maybe afraid, maybe angry, and at times maybe wanting to give up.  Like the weeds described above Ray has pushed through his barriers.  He has risen through the concrete of his illnesses, not only to survive but to also thrive.  Even after his many challenges he is the same ornery, sarcastic, funny and caring person he has always been.  Nothing has slowed him down.  He is an active participant in his children’s, grandchildren’s, and great-grandchildren’s lives. He is the first one to offer help when he sees someone in need.  He has pushed his way through the life barriers he was given and come out the other side a great example of the resiliency of the human spirit.  He is living life as he always has, on his terms and with the fortitude of a weed.

I am lucky to know him and I think all his family and friends would say the same.

©bcreed