Journey Through The Valley of Shadows

4:00:11 PM EDT
Feeling Chillin'

Scottie and Summer-Scottie was always crazy about Summer.

This entry is dedictated to the memory of Bennie Cason, beloved husband to Tina, beloved father to Angel and James, and beloved grandfather to Madyson and Jayson, and in memory of my beloved brother, Jeremy Scott Johnson.

I was just talking to a good friend online via messaging through MySpace.  She lost her husband to lung cancer this past October.  They were together for 28 years.  She is still in mourning for him.  Some well meaning people keep telling her she needs to move on.  I have something to say to that.

I know you mean well when you tell someone who has lost someone significant in their lives that they need to "move on."  Obviously, you have never experienced a loss like that or you could not say that to them.

I lost my brother NINE years ago today.  At the tender age of 23, on June 18, 1999, he decided life was too painful to go on.  He put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, killing himself instantly and our lives were forever changed in an instant.

I reiterate it has been NINE years.  I STILL cry for him at least several times a week.  My heart STILL feels like a giant rock is sitting on it.  There is a big black hole in my life that can never again be filled.

If you are my friend, don't tell me to "get over it and move on."  I can't.  Should I live to be 100, I still won't be "over it." 

What I need from you is your sympathy and understanding.  This is what my friend, Tina, needs also.  Just be there for us.  If we want to talk about our loved one, listen.  If we want to cry, cry with us, or at least hold us while we cry.

The one thing that holds me together is knowing my Scottie Boy was a Christian and knowing I will see him again one sweet day.  Tina can also hold on to that promise, but for now,please.........just listen........and/or hug us to let us know you care.  That's all we need.  It may not seem like much to you, but it will go a long way in letting us know, even though you may not completely understand our grief, at least it shows you care what we are going through.  A prayer or two won't hurt either.

Thanks for listening.

Susan

Heavenly Father,

I lift my dear friend, Tina, up in prayer.  I pray for the Holy Spirit to comfort her during this very difficult time in her life, her children's lives, and her grandchildren's lives.  I know Bennie's passing has left a HUGE hole in their lives.  I pray that they can know in their hearts that he is in a better place and no longer suffering and that he is now their Guardian Angel watching over them until they are safely with him in your arms.  I ask that you put people in Tina's life that understand what she is going through and know how to help her through it with love and understanding of what she is dealing with.  Give them the right words to say to comfort her and her family.  May you heal their hearts as only you can do.  In your Holy name I ask these things.  AMEN.

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 4 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

2:50:42 PM EDT
Feeling Quiet

My Dad died Scottie's freshman year of high school in May.  When school started back in the Fall, and pictures were made, you can see the agony and depression in his face.  My Mom ended up letting him drop out of school.  He went on to get his GED and finished near the top of his class.  Will the ache in my heart ever go away?  A friend told me I always bring the conversation back to my brother somehow that maybe I should seek grief counseling.  Unless you have lost a loved one to suicide like me, don't say that to me.  Be supportive and listen when I need to talk.  As my friend, that is what I need you to do.

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 3 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

4:09:18 PM EDT
Feeling Quiet
Hearing One Sweet Day by Mariah Carey and Boyz2Men

Happy Birthday, Scottie Boy! R.I.P.
Category: Life

Jeremy Scott Johnson May 3, 1976-June 18, 1999

You were such a little angel, baby brother.  Why did your life have to end so tragically, Scottie Boy?  Today is what should be your 32nd birthday.  I miss you as much today as on the day we lost you, June 18, 1999, when you decided life was too painful to go on.  I can't do this entry without tears running down my face even now after nine years.

You were only 2 and a half when Donnie and I married.

I choose to celebrate your life today and remember the good times we had.  I hope the angels are throwing you one heck of a birthday bash.  I will always love you and there will always be a big black hole in my life until we meet again.

Love you forever and always,

Susan

P.S.  For those my brother alleged sexually molested him and for the girlfriend who told him the night before he died that you were leaving him for a "real" man, I forgive you because the scriptures say in order for me to be forgiven by God, I must forgive, but I want you to know I do it for me, not you.  I do not want anger, hatred, and bitterness to eat away at me like festering sores.  I choose to walk in the light and be free.

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 1 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

10:11:26 PM EDT
Feeling Quiet

Yes, they are all text book examples of paranoia; the feet and hands hanging off
the bed, looking in a mirror and seeing things that are not there, the fear of
EVERYTHING. The drinking? Well, that has nothing to do with his disorder, but
probably over time, he became an addiction, and might have been an alcoholic
even if he didn't have the disorder. And are you stating FACTs, or QUESTIONS
he might have asked? Maybe you can clarify that for us. Good luck with getting it
published, I know he was your world! Thank you for sharing it with us. ~Diane~
#9 Comment from zosche973 - 5/10/07 11:13 AM

****************************************************************************************

In answer to Diane's question about my entry, Does It Mean I am Crazy If...........?

I meant for the reader to apply the title of the entry, Does It Mean I am crazy if to the beginning of each line.  For example, Does it mean I am crazy if I do not want my hands or feet hanging off of my bed at night because I am afraid a bony hand will come out from under my bed and grab me?

Does it mean I am crazy if I do not like to look in the mirror because I am afraid I will see something that should not be there?

That is why each line ends with a question mark.

Scottie actually experienced a lot of these things, and some of my other family members have also experienced some of these things, so it is a combination of  both what Scottie experienced and other members in my family, but mostly Scottie.

Hope this helps!  Sorry if I did not make it easier to understand.

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 2 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

4:59:54 PM EDT
Feeling Sad

It was 8 years ago today you left us, baby brother. Though your light no longer burns here on earth, I know your light is burning brightly in heaven and you are now our angel watching over us.  It still feels like a giant rock is sitting on my chest and won't get off.  The big black hole is still there because you aren't.  I still miss you.  I still love you.

Always and forever,

Susie

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 5 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

2:37:34 AM EDT
Feeling Sad

My brother, Scottie, was an extremely paranoid person.  He was finally diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and he was bipolar.  The correct medical term for that is schizoaffective disorder.  Below are some of the things that he (and other family members with this disorder) suffered with.  This could have been written by him and/or some other members in my family.  I know firsthand these things have happened to them.  Feel free to add any others in the comment section if you can relate to what I am saying here. 

Does It Mean I Am Crazy If...........................................

I do not want my hands or feet hanging off of my bed at night because I am afraid a bony hand will come out from under my bed and grab me?

I do not like to look in the mirror because I am afraid I will see something that should not be there?

I have to have my closet door closed at night because I am afraid of what I might see in the closet?

I do not like driving at night because I do not like to have to look in the rearview mirror because I am afraid of what might be in the back seat?

I hear a voice whisper or call my name even if no one else is around?

I see a demon speaking in an unknown language and I do not know exactly what he is saying, but I know it is evil?

I see the digital scale in my bathroom and it says 666?

I see an entity of some kind floating in a tree while I am out walking at night and I am afraid?

I run because I see demons chasing me?

I drink in an effort to make the voices stop and the demons disappear because I am so afraid?

I am laughing one minute and crying the next and I do not understand why?

I have to cut on myself to actually feel pain?

I double or triple check windows and doors at night to make sure they are locked before I can go to sleep at night?

I am afraid to sleep because I am afraid the demons will come?

I hear leaves rustling outside and think someone or something is coming inside to get me?

I do not know if some incident I have experienced was real or a dream?

I see a door vibrating as if someone is kicking it from the other side and there appears to be no one there?

Am I...........really schizophrenic or because I am a Christian, is Satan and his legions of demons trying to bring me down because I am a child of God?

© Copyright 2007 Susan Johnson Rudd 

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 11 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

9:42:12 AM EDT
Feeling Quiet

Today is what should be your 31st birthday, Scottie Boy.  I cannot tell you how much I miss you still.  It has been almost eight years since you decided life was too painful to go on.  You made a decision that impacted our lives, in an instant, forever.  Still, after eight years, it feels like a rock is sitting on my heart.  Such a big black hole has been left in my life since you are no longer in it.  I so miss all of your little pranks and your wonderful sense of humor.  I miss your dimple when you smile and so much more.

I dream of you still from time to time.  In one of the dreams I look at you incredulously and say, "Scottie!  You're not dead!"

You say, "Do I look dead to you?"

I don't know why, but that dream brought comfort to me, even though I know it was just a dream.

You came to our cousin, Prissy, three nights in a row in dreams and told her to tell us not to grieve for you that you are happier than you have ever been.  I wish I could give you what you want, but I don't know how to stop grieving for you.  I know you are in heaven with the angels because it is my belief that God's mercy covers mental illness.  You are now our angel now watching over us.  I hope they throw you one heck of a 31st birthday bash!~

Today, we will spend remembering you and the unending joy you brought to us.  As long as your memory lives on in our hearts, you are alive.

I believe you are alive anyway because I know you were a Christian.

In the Beatitudes, Matthew Chapter 5, it says:

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."  We put that on your foot marker at your grave site.

I can hang on until we meet again in Heaven one day because I am also God's child.  Because of His son's sacrifice for our sins, and our acceptance of Him, we will be together again one sweet day.  If I did not have that assurance, I don't think I could make it.

I love you  and miss you, my dear sweet brother, more than you could ever know.  I will never forget you.  See you again one day when it is my time.

With Much Love,

Susie

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 9 comments: Show Recent | Add your own

5:34:33 PM EDT

11:13 PM - She
Current mood: depressed

She sits. She waits. She breathes. She runs.

There isn't anything that she can control, the one thing she could became a public affair. Everyone knew, she trusted one, and then another and it turned out that it was a mistake to think that trust still existed in a world so polluted with anger, hate, lust, and deceit. She was a good girl, a happy child, raised in a southern home and church. She knew her morals, she knew what she believed in and to never let anyone tell her any different. She was strong. It happened so suddenly, attacked her with such quickness and violence like she'd never witnessed or seen portrayed in a Hollywood fairytale. She berated herself for not knowing, for not expecting it; every time she made a move she could almost see it out of her peripheral vision. A long black snake, coiled in the back of her mind waiting for the opportune moment to strike, it stayed coiled in the shadows for such a long time that she forgot it was there, watching her, mocking her, waiting.  When it finally released the heat of its venom into her mind she felt like she was on fire, she thought things that would've seemed deranged to her just a short time before. She cried tears of pain, screamed shrieks of agony, and sobbed words of defeat. No one could help her; she was a lost cause it seemed. Her friends, try as they might, were at their wits end and one by one began dwindling away. There wasn't anyone to turn to, and then, sitting in her bathroom floor, crying and alone, she knew what she had to do. She didn't think it would be so easy, she knew it was wrong and that she had to hide it, the blood she spilled that night sparked her fire again, the glowing embers she had grown accustomed to had suddenly roared to life. It was a curious thing, no doubt, an oddity to treat such… pain with a different sort of hurt. She found that if she was aching on the outside she wouldn't notice the ache on the inside. So, she hid it, her secret weapon, she got the color back in her cheeks and started going out again. Then one day someone saw, but she knew she could always trust a friend. She didn't realize what she'd done when she spoke such words, so true. The control she'd fallen in love with had disappeared when the words came out but she didn't notice then. She didn't realize what she'd done until that night when she confronted her silver friend; he'd laughed it off with a glint on his back and told her to use him again. She tried and she tried to feel the rush, to enjoy it again. It was impossible now that someone knew, her control was lost again. Her friend grew concerned and asked a person for advice, pretty soon she couldn't look into a pair of eyes without them looking her up and down, secretly searching for the marks. She cast away her evil friend and decided to begin again, she tried to hit but didn't bruise, she tried to burn but it wouldn't work, her power was lost and couldn't be found. So, naturally she was opened up and the snake attacked again. She tried to breathe and found she couldn't, that was when she threw in the towel, life wasn't supposed to be like this. Not wicked and cruel, what had she done to deserve it? She wouldn't give her silver friend the honor of doing her in, she turned to medication, created for sleep, figuring that's what she wanted, just with an air of permanence. No one knew what she had on her mind at the dinner table that night, they laughed and she smiled just like every other time. Then, alone in her room, pills in hand, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Finally, she had made a rational decision. She put the bottle down and didn't think of it again. Her appetite was almost nonexistent and she found that if scarring her arms wasn't working anymore maybe this would. She'd heard of girls that starved themselves for looks, but had anyone done it to feel the pain? She was going to try. Over time she found that this measure of pain would do just fine in keeping her emotions at bay. She had recurring thought of being not good enough, of being bad, she knew what she was doing was wrong. Very wrong, but she couldn't stop. She would never have control over herself, it seemed. She could see people getting tired of her fake smiles, and 'I'm not hungry's', she knew that if she wasn't careful when she submerged from this dark pond that she would really be alone. Months passed and she was careful, getting help when she felt herself being taken back into the murky water. She smiled more often, and ate more than she had before, but she couldn't be alone without cringing back into herself.

 

 

That's all I've go so far.

 

C

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

5:33:11 PM EDT :46 PM - Why?
Current mood: contemplative

Sometimes I just want to fall into a world filled with people that don't know anything about me. Maybe take Katie, Allison, and Sara with me. I could survive with them, I could be happy with a clean slate. I'm not delusional enough to think that being surrounded by strangers would erase all my problems but it would help to know that they don't know. I want to run away to a distant place, I want to talk to people and tell them things that I want them to know, instead of everything they may or may not need to know. Is that so bad? I want a chance. I want a chance to live my life how I choose without my own family talking about the decisions I'm making. I'm not a child anymore but I am not an adult by any means. I make mistakes, I don't know everything, but no one else does either. No scholar, preacher, scientist, teacher, lawer, doctor, or philosopher has the answer to every little question one might ask. So why is it, that they can find some way to think themselves better than me or any other person for that matter? You want my meaning of life? My meaning of life is to try. To try and strive for something better, to always do your best, think for yourself, and live freely. I get asked why I'm so depressed, because to the outside world I have nothing to be depressed over, for all those that are so curious, do you really want to know? It's because I can't move, think, or even breathe without someone giving me a disapproving glare or whispering something behind my back. I can't dress one way today and dress another tomorrow without someone labeling me, shoving me into a stereotype. So, I like to take pictures, I like to lie in the grass at night and look at stars, so I like to draw and wear black and white, and I like to dye my hair different colors, SO WHAT. I have a corset from Hot Topic hanging in my closet right next to a shirt bought at Abercrombie. Label me, I dare you. Judge me, I know you will. Disapprove of me, I know you already do. It's too much to ask of many people to get to know someone before casting them into the shadows to forever hang in the corner, blending in with the wallpaper. Wake up. Do something different. BE different. That doesn't mean dress in band tees and converse and dye your hair purple, that means be original. 

This entry turned into something totally different than what it was intended to be, but that's okay.

[love, always]

C

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 0 comments: Add your own

6:31:30 PM EDT

My daughter looked at me out of the blue yesterday and said, "Mom, I really want you to finish your book that you have been writing since I was seven years old.

I guess I have put it off because it is so painful to write about.  Losing my brother has been THE most painful thing I have EVER been through.  It even tops losing my Dad, but I think it is just because my brother was so young, and the way he died.  You never think you are going to outlive your youngest sibling, especially when there is a 17-year age difference!

The important thing here is to remember that Scottie had a substance abuse problem along with being bipolar and paranoid schizophrenic.  I believe the correct term is schizoaffective?  It is not fun to live with someone who has both a mental illness AND a substance abuse problem, just living with one problem is bad enough, but what do we do?  Do we try to eliminate the mentally ill like Hitler did the Jews?  Of course not!!!!!

How would God want us to handle this?  I believe there is a reason the bible says, "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."  You will find this verse in Matthew Chapter 5.  It is part of The Beatitudes.  I know the answer.  God put us here to help each other no matter what we might be going through.  I believe He wants us to show compassion to those dealing with mental illness, as well as their loved ones. 

What we need to do to help our loved ones who suffer from bipolar disorder or any other type of mental illness is learn all we can about these disorders.  The person who has the illness also needs to learn all they can about the disorder so they can understand what is happening to them.  A good place to start is the NAMI (the National Alliance for the Mentally Ill) website at www.nami.org.

It takes a lot of love and understanding to be able to help someone you love who suffers from any kind of mental illness, including all types of depression and/or substance abuse.  To my family and I, my brother was so worth it.  He could not help that he was schizoaffective, no more than someone can help having cancer or heart disease.  He had the most wonderful sense of humor and was highly intelligient.

I believe we could have saved him from falling through the cracks of the system if he had been treated cohesively for his mental illness AND his substance abuse problem.  If you know someone who has both, you MUST get help for both problems AT THE SAME TIME.  I guess the old cliche, "Hindsight is foresight" is true.  Unfortunately, in my brother's case, it is too late, but there are so many others like him out there and if I can write one thing that helps someone else, then what my family and me have gone through will serve some kind of purpose.

It is to those of you I dedicate this journal.  You have my support, my love, and my prayers for a better life.  I urge you when everything seems hopeless to remember that tomorrow is the dawn of a new day and with each new dawn, the day holds new promise.

Written by rjet33 Permalink | Blog about this entry |  Add to del.icio.us |  digg this This entry has 1 comments: Show Recent | Add your own