#120.....Fear & Ignorance

     Admittedly, I have numerous fears in life, real and unreal.  One of my biggest fears is rejection.  Rejection,  has happened to me a countless number of  times, in my 47 years, here on Mother Earth, with strangers, with friends, and even with close relatives.
     When it has happened, I feel as if a dagger,  has been driven through my heart.  I feel devastated, lost, rejected, heartbroken, less than human, utterly worthless.  It makes me think about ending my life here, on this Earth.  When I recover from this grief, I feel untrustworthy, of any new person in my life.
      Why, does this rejection happen?  Honestly, I'm still working on figuring that out.  I am realizing, that mainly, it is due to ignorance, about mental illness. People have such deep fears, mostly irrational fears of people like me.
      Just like others  with mental illness, I look "normal".   You would never guess, by having a conversation with me, that I struggle, with inner Hell, at times.  And I feel, just as deeply, as the next person.
     So, what's up with me, you may wonder?  When I tell people that I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, they ask how I got it.  I tell them that it came from both childhood and domestic abuse, and people usually accept it.
     When I tell people that I have Panic Disorder, people usually know of someone, in their family or circles, who also has it.  That disorder is usually accepted by people, as well.
     When I told people, 2 decades ago, that I suffered from depression, I remember being shunned by several people.  But a lot has changed in 2 decades, people are becoming more open-minded of mood disorders.
     But, when people hear that I have Schizoaffective Disorder, it is a whole different "ballgame".  When people hear that it entails a mood disorder, AND psychosis, which means hallucinations, delusions, and paranoia, their eyes become wide, their pupils become huge,  their jaws drop, they often have no idea what to say to me.  Their voices sound both pained and fearful.  
     And I am left, equally, as afraid as them....but afraid that I will lose their love, because of something that I can't help.   Only 0.05% of the population had Schizoaffective...BUT that equals approximately, 1 in every 200 people.  That is something, that all of us need to think about.

     The wonderful Actor/Comedian, Robin Williams passed away very recently.  There have been loads of tributes to him, however, I have been slow, writing out my thoughts, on the subject.  It hurts.
      The suicide of Robin Williams has affected me, to my inner core.   I have made suicide attempts, also, but I was blessed, not to have succeeded.
     My thoughts keep coming back, to the same thing:  How Robin must have felt, in the moments before dying.  I know that I felt defeated, lost, scared, alone, and an unshakable suffering, in those moments.  I keep thinking that Robin must have felt similar thoughts, in his final moments.
      Dear Robin, I hope that you feel peace, in Heaven, away from black depression and devastating Parkinson's Disease.
     My Friends..If you know of someone contemplating suicide, let them know that you love them, and try to get them help, ASAP.
   

     I had a strange dream a few nights ago.  I dreamed that I was with a bunch of girls, getting ready to go to the Senior Prom.  I couldn't decide on which gown to wear.  Because it was so close to Christmas time, my wonderful friend, Michele suggested that I wear the red, satin gown.
     All of a sudden, I yelled "Help me, I think that I am in labor!"  I felt something odd and reached down to discover, that I was crowning.  I looked down and saw a little head with dark black hair.  I started to push the baby out.  The cramps felt strong, but before I knew it, the baby completely emerged.  She had lots of black hair and an olive complexion.  She looked like a beautiful,  Italian baby.
     I told my friend, Michele, that I was not going to the Prom, after all.  It didn't bother me, though.  I was overwhelmed with joy, at this beautiful gift, of a baby girl.   And then, I woke up.
    What is interesting about this dream, is that I had it in the early morning hours of August 14.
     In reality, my one and only baby, that I miscarried...murdered by my Italian lover, during a brutal beating... was due to be born on August 13, 1992.  This child would be 22 years old now.
    I don't think that I will ever be over the loss of my baby.  I can't forget the terrifying, painful beating, that Pietro gave me, that ended  it's fetal life.   I can't get over the horror of  my miscarriage.  I can't get over the anger that Pietro killed my  baby.   And I was never able to conceive again.
     My heart will always ache for you, my little baby.

     Every once in awhile, like now, I write a description of myself....just to let you know, who I am.....
My name is Christine, and I am 47 years old.  I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Panic Disorder, and
Schizoaffective Disorder.   I have been writing my blog entitled: "My Uncomfortable Mind", for almost 3 years.
     I have PTSD, from childhood abuse, and I have inherited, Panic Disorder, and Schizoaffective Disorder, through my genes.  Some say that Schizoaffective Disorder, is a mood disorder, presenting itself as either Depression or Bipolar Disorder, with Schizophrenia symptoms, of psychosis.  Some say that it is a form of Schizophrenia.  Whatever, the case, it is a difficult life.
     If you were to meet me in everyday life, you would be very surprised to learn these facts about me.
You see, I am a human being, just like you.
     How do my friends describe me?:
Strong,
Unbreakable,
Sweet,
Kind,
Generous,
Loyal,
Artistic,
Intelligent,
Empathetic,
Sensitive,
Passionate,
Compassionate,
Loving....
     I am not a perfect human being, but I strive to do my best, everyday.  I want to show the world that people with Mental Illnesses are truly human.
    

     This past week and a half, have been wonderful for me.  I have been busy, doing things that I love,and I think that business can contribute to happiness.
    I spent some hours volunteering, in the office of my church, last week, doing basic receptionist work.  I will also be doing work there tomorrow.  I have been volunteering at my church for at least 7 years, and I love doing it.
   I went out for a few meals with friends.  I got to have lunch, on one day, with the interim Pastor Marlayna, of our church, at a nearby diner. It was delightful, getting to know her one-on-one.
     Yesterday, I went to see our Associate Pastor Judy, after baking her a loaf of homemade cinnamon bread. YES, I bake sometimes.... She is also a wonderful friend of mine, and she fell down some stairs, and broke one foot and the other ankle.  So poor Judy, has been stuck at home, for the most part.  She is blessed to have a wonderful, helpful, partner at home, taking care of her.  Judy, I have been praying for you.
    I  saw my psychiatrist, last week, and she was pleased that I was recovering from all that ailed me over the past few months.
    As a survivor of PTSD, and Schizoaffective Disorder, life can really hurt, at times, but the good days are so appreciated, so unbelievably joyful.  That is what makes life worth living....the good days.