Linking Arms When Life Isn't Fair
Some people live really comfortable lives. They grow up with loving parents, a yappy dog, and lots of sunny vacations. They're good looking and popular in school. They're successful in their jobs. They find Prince Charming or Cinderella. They're healthy, happy, and because they're also wonderful and sweet, it's hard to hate them. I've nothing against these people, save for a little jealousy occasionally. Hey, some of my friends are these people.
Then there's the rest of us. We can see the sun but the storm has been hard to ignore. We're the people who understand poverty, violence, apathy, hate, failure, disease, disorders, or death. We're the ones who've laboured through the valleys of despair, anguish, heartache, and still manage to crack a joke at the end of the day. We have our good days and our bad days, but more than anything, we just want someone who understands where we are coming from. We crave for someone else who's been there...who gets it.
Last night my friend Steve came over and brought his friend Kate with him. I'm always open to more friends so I welcomed her in. She was my age and height, with boy-short brown hair, a matronly figure, and a pleasant smile. She laughed loud and hard at my jokes, so I liked her immediately. Had she not openly shared her struggles, I would have never taken her for anything beyond the norm. And that's the thing with people like us...you'd never guess unless we told you.
In addition to clinical depression, Kate suffers from a thought disorder. She hears voices - loud voices that tell her to do things...voices that can only be quieted by her obedience. Her extreme condition has so severely impaired her ability to function that she has dropped out of school and cannot work. She has taken every prescription drug available, hopping from one drug to another, hoping that the next will be of some help. She's seen such little improvement that she's had to resort to shock therapy, something that is difficult and painful for me to comprehend. The shock therapy has completely killed her short term memory; she cannot remember anything that happens in the present and either has to write it down or have someone else there to remember it for her. With her suicidal past, she fears her own safety, so she never lets herself be alone.
We talked casually yet boldly of our painful past experiences as if we were sisters. Ignorant doctors, misdiagnoses, the medical bills, the shame, the pain, the dreams we've had to postpone...we talked about it all. When she told me about the loss of her short term memory and that she probably wouldn't remember me the next morning, my heart broke. So I wrote down my name and all the details and circumstances on a piece of paper and handed it to her. Had I not been so caught up in the emotion of our conversation, I would have held her close and cried.
In the end, I suggested she come with me to a spiritual healing conference starting next weekend. I explained the entire premise of conference and secretly hoped she'd say yes. I know it sounds crazy, I said, But if you're like me, then you're willing to try anything. And I'll be right there with you.
I looked deep into her tired eyes. I want you to get better, Kate. I want to see you get better.
She sighed. "You're very persuasive, Leslie. Okay, I'll go. In fact...yes, I think I really want to go."
After she and Steve left, I felt that by helping Kate, I'd helped myself...and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
Sometimes I wish I was like the people I mentioned in the beginning of my post...the people who never fight with their SO's or have stable jobs or never incur anything beyond the normal bills or the common cold. But since my life isn't like that...since I don't have a stable job, I have 3 diseases, a dysfunctional family, and a quirky relationship...I found it so so cathartic to find someone who understands. Not just someone who's supportive, but who has walked the 100 beleaguering miles you have. God, it feels so good to lean on someone else who needs to lean on you too.
Then there's the rest of us. We can see the sun but the storm has been hard to ignore. We're the people who understand poverty, violence, apathy, hate, failure, disease, disorders, or death. We're the ones who've laboured through the valleys of despair, anguish, heartache, and still manage to crack a joke at the end of the day. We have our good days and our bad days, but more than anything, we just want someone who understands where we are coming from. We crave for someone else who's been there...who gets it.
Last night my friend Steve came over and brought his friend Kate with him. I'm always open to more friends so I welcomed her in. She was my age and height, with boy-short brown hair, a matronly figure, and a pleasant smile. She laughed loud and hard at my jokes, so I liked her immediately. Had she not openly shared her struggles, I would have never taken her for anything beyond the norm. And that's the thing with people like us...you'd never guess unless we told you.
In addition to clinical depression, Kate suffers from a thought disorder. She hears voices - loud voices that tell her to do things...voices that can only be quieted by her obedience. Her extreme condition has so severely impaired her ability to function that she has dropped out of school and cannot work. She has taken every prescription drug available, hopping from one drug to another, hoping that the next will be of some help. She's seen such little improvement that she's had to resort to shock therapy, something that is difficult and painful for me to comprehend. The shock therapy has completely killed her short term memory; she cannot remember anything that happens in the present and either has to write it down or have someone else there to remember it for her. With her suicidal past, she fears her own safety, so she never lets herself be alone.
We talked casually yet boldly of our painful past experiences as if we were sisters. Ignorant doctors, misdiagnoses, the medical bills, the shame, the pain, the dreams we've had to postpone...we talked about it all. When she told me about the loss of her short term memory and that she probably wouldn't remember me the next morning, my heart broke. So I wrote down my name and all the details and circumstances on a piece of paper and handed it to her. Had I not been so caught up in the emotion of our conversation, I would have held her close and cried.
In the end, I suggested she come with me to a spiritual healing conference starting next weekend. I explained the entire premise of conference and secretly hoped she'd say yes. I know it sounds crazy, I said, But if you're like me, then you're willing to try anything. And I'll be right there with you.
I looked deep into her tired eyes. I want you to get better, Kate. I want to see you get better.
She sighed. "You're very persuasive, Leslie. Okay, I'll go. In fact...yes, I think I really want to go."
After she and Steve left, I felt that by helping Kate, I'd helped myself...and I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
Sometimes I wish I was like the people I mentioned in the beginning of my post...the people who never fight with their SO's or have stable jobs or never incur anything beyond the normal bills or the common cold. But since my life isn't like that...since I don't have a stable job, I have 3 diseases, a dysfunctional family, and a quirky relationship...I found it so so cathartic to find someone who understands. Not just someone who's supportive, but who has walked the 100 beleaguering miles you have. God, it feels so good to lean on someone else who needs to lean on you too.
posted by The mini ninja at 10:56 PM
6 Comments:
First of all, AMEN SISTER.
Second, I find that if everyone around me is being quiet about their problems, I turn the dissection laser on myself, trying to sort out problems I may not even have (like should I buy a new computer when I really can't afford it, but make endless lists of how my current one is so inadequate when it's really not). So I like it when other people around me are honest about being broken. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong!
People need to lean on each other. If one leans and the other is standing straight up, you'll both fall over. And for pete's sake, don't lean in the SAME direction! Tha'd be like dominoes. Doi.
yes, it sounds like Kate has been through a lot and a lot of bad doctors. A thought disorder? It sounds more severe than that to me. Psychology is my passion but the field is seriously lacking help for people like Kate. I hope she goes on the retreat with you. I think where modern medicine fails, God can surely heal.
The difficulties in life are what refine people, make them better, stronger, virtuous. (Easy to say today since I'm having a relatively good morning... words would've been different yesterday :) I honestly feel like having struggles is a blessing... like God thinks so much of us as an individual that he knows we can handle whatever comes our way. I also feel that helping others is the best way to help yourself. It's funny how that works, but it's true.
Also, don't forget that nobody is perfect. :) Sometimes the people that are all shiny on the outside are empty and rotting on the inside. A 'friend' of ours is the PERFECT example: beautiful, plastic surgery, dyed hair, poise, money, all the comforts you could ask for in life... but she is honestly and very seriously the most miserable person I have ever met...
Leslie:
I love that you are so open and raw about life: it's very cool. I encourage people around me to talk about all this stuff. Because really, if we can't be honest with each other, support one another and lean on each other, then we're really letting God down: He wants us to fellowship with one another and lift up our brothers and sisters when they can't help themselves up (and of COURSE rely on Him during our tough times - I think it's REALLY cool that you're going to a healing service - do I have that right? - All things are possible with God. Remember that.)
Anyway, Preachy McPreacherson will get off her soapbox now.
Have a blessed day!
Isn't that the truth--when we help others, we are helping ourselves. I know that at times it may seem like we would trade our lives in for easier ones, but when it comes down to it--it is these struggles that we have overcome that have made us who we are. We are stronger and better for having had them. I always say that I don't regret the ostacles that I have been given, but sometimes it would be nice if they were a little easier.
You truly are a good soul.
Mark - I don't have anything against people are who quiet about themselves, but I'm rarely very good friends with them. If you dissect yourself if no one is being open, does that mean you have a need to dissect SOMEONE at all times? =) Doi.
Daphne - I thought it sounded more severe than a thought disorder too. Like schizophrenia or something? I figured that with all the doctors by now, if she had a better name to her disorder, she would have said so. Then again, people are misdiagnosed all the time.
Kjersten - I totally agree with you. All struggles have the potential to make you into a better person with even more character. I wish I helped people WAY more often because I always feel so fulfilled when I do!
Thank you for the reminder that no one is perfect. Everyone has their own demons. What, then, do you suppose would constitute a good life?
Steph aka Preachy McPreacherson - Thank you also for your encouragement! I could never have enough of that. And yes, I am taking her to a week long spiritual healing conference. I expect to see many miracles. I will let you know what happens!
Etchen - Ah, I so relate. In our head we know that all storms make us better, but sometimes we just wish for the sun to come out ASAP! When I am laying on my death bed, I hope to look back and regret none of the storms and rejoice all the times spent in the sun.
Gab At Les
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