Oh very young what will leave us this time...

...you're only dancing on this earth for a short while. ~ Cat Stevens

It's nearly a year since my brother, Steve Crohn, completed suicide. I know now this is the correct term when someone attempts and accomplishes their own death. And the news of Robin Williams' suicide has brought to the fore many of the feelings I had in August 2013. Why? Where? When? 

Why? Why? Why?

The experts and the talking heads and the never-ending news feeds tell us the easy answer is unmitigated depression/mental illness accompanied by substance abuse. Both were factors in my brother's and Williams' deaths. But is that all there is?

Since each one of us is unlike another (as Sesame Street taught us),we uniquely adapt to the challenges of our own lives. As I sit here and listen to a Cat Stevens collection of songs I'm reminded of when I was a teenager in the 1970's and listened intently to each of the composer and singer's words as if they held all the truths I would ever need to know. I may have been a little Hippie high at times but, often enough, I still allow myself to think this is true. And I listen again and again and again.

Oh baby. baby it's a wild world. It's hard to get by just upon a smile. 

Circumstances change, people change religions and names, we morph and mold ourselves into our own Morks and Mindys - creatures from our own minds and worlds. Sensitive souls build armor for protection. Confident personalities mask pain in a myriad of ways. The truth of it is, however, that we all experience suffering. It's what we do with it that makes all the difference.

I am in a lot of emotional pain today; grieving fully and wholly for my brother and making comparisons between him and Robin Williams. I don't know how I will feel on the 'angelversary' of my brother's death on August 24th, or on my 54th birthday two days later on August 26th, or on what would have been my brother's 67th birthday on September 5th. I'm just letting the feelings come.

Please allow yourself to do the same no matter what your troubles are today.

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time

You're only dancin' on this earth for a short while

And though your dreams may toss and turn you now

They will vanish away like your dads best jeans

Denim blue, faded up to the sky

And though you want them to last forever

You know they never will

(you know they never will)

And the patches make the goodbye harder still.

Oh very young what will you leave us this time

There'll never be a better chance to change your mind

And if you want this world to see a better day

Will you carry the words of love with you

Will you ride the great white bird into heaven

And though you want to last forever

You know you never will

(you know you never will)

And the goodbye makes the journey harder still.

Will you carry the words of love with you

Will you ride, oh, oooh

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time

You're only dancin' on this earth for a short while

Oh very young, what will you leave us this time

Depression

Here it is: The dirty little secret. I suffer from bouts of depression. As described by the National Institute of Mental Health, I am most likely experiencing a minor depression right now; a lackluster feeling of not wanting to do anything or see anyone and an overwhelming sadness that could last up to two weeks. I've been here before and, trust me, I'm not good company.

My work halts. My mood is low. My appetite is poor and my health issues are exacerbated. I actually had an episode of sweating through my pajamas one night this week and fear struck deep. The only other time that happened was when I had Hodgkin's Lymphoma and that was more than 15 years ago. It is a symptom and it also brings back hints of my PTSD from the emergency tracheotomy and its aftermath.

I think, too, I am wary of my 'ologists' month. By January 31st, I will have seen my rheumatologist, my oncologist, and my gastroenterologist and, undoubtedly, will be run through the gamut of testing I hate and the never ending adjustment of medications. Shortly thereafter, I will get my osteoporosis injection (the latest and greatest, or so they say) and continue my blah diet regimen. I have some new concerns and some old concerns. The docs and I will undoubtedly discuss them all.

Oy.

I don't like dealing with my health problems. I like putting them on a shelf and rolling along. But this past week alone, I've spent hours up late at night wondering whether or not to go to the hospital because my stomach is in spasms and pain from the gastroparesis I have lived with for some two years now, the strange night sweat and headaches and overall malaise. It is not pleasant when I have to go to the ER when the pain is at a +12 on a scale of 1 to 10. But that's what I wait for - the +12. I've learned.

For those of us classified as 'sick' or disabled, we don't know which comes first - the physical maladies or the depression; but both always come and there is no schedule. I know that, too.

According to the NIMH:

"People who have depression along with another medical illness tend to have more severe symptoms of both depression and the medical illness, more difficulty adapting to their medical condition, and more medical costs than those who do not have co-existing depression. Treating the depression can also help improve the outcome of treating the co-occurring illness."

I don't think many 'ologists' get this; nor the many specialists we must see individual for each piece of our bodies. There are so few holistic practitioners. Thanks to friend and colleague Susan Murphy Milano, and her courageous fight against Stage IV cancer last year, I've become acquainted with Dr. Dalal Akoury and her AwareMed Center in South Carolina. God, I miss your wisdom, Susan, and I'm definitely going to set up an appointment to meet Dr. Akoury when I'm down south in February. I know Dr. Akoury gets it and, perhaps, (just, perhaps) I might finally have a captain of my ship to guide me. Many have promised, none have succeeded. But it's worth a shot 'cause I ain't givin' up yet.

Lone Mallard

Today is the day...

So this is it. I've started a blog at the advice of my supreme mentor, Laura Shaine Cunningham, author of Sleeping Arrangements and A Place in the Country, two memoirs that helped inspire my own.

After writing for over 20 years for others (clients, corporations, not-for-profits, CEOs, etc.), I decided to start writing for myself about two years ago. The result is a manuscript that tore the heart out of my very soul while writing it. But it was also a healing process; the proverbial catharsis, if you will.

What I learned is that we are all survivors - of something. My story may be alarming - extreme family disturbance including parental neglect and mental illness, cancer, Lupus, tragedies that would have made others fold their cards quickly.

But I didn't. Why? I simply don't know. Exploring the why we survive the unsurvivable is the crux of this blog. I hope you will join me on my journey.