Coming Out of the Darkness to Save Lives

            Photo taken out my car's back window, the morning of last year's Out of the Darkness Chico

I love to laugh and make people laugh. This wasn't always the case. I was terribly depressed as a child, due to heredity (depression runs in my family) and circumstances (neglectful parents, family traumas...). I've shared with you over the years about my mother's death by cancer when she was 49 and I was 18.

Two years ago, I wrote a semi-mysterious blogpost about the death of my ex-husband. I kept the circumstances dubious because...he died by suicide. There's so much shame, guilt, and stigma related to suicide, I didn't want to go that dark here. Losing my ex-husband, though, doesn't compare to a loss I experienced more than 25 years ago. It's one I've mostly kept in the dark all these years.  It's been wrapped up in layers of shame and guilt. Siblings are like our other-selves. This heavy dark truth is that my brother, Glenn-David (my parents couldn't decide between Glenn or David, so they used both names), was diagnosed with schizophrenia in 1988. He died by suicide shortly thereafter. We'd had a tense relationship, fraught with animosity, and that's been the most painful aspect to grapple with.

I'm sharing this with you now because I'm coming out of the darkness in a big way these days -- in hopes of helping others. For the past several months, I've been organizing Chico's annual Out of the Darkness Community Walk for suicide prevention. I'm Event Chair, and it all happens this coming Saturday, 9/27. I've recently participated in local radio show interviews and worked on a newspaper segment on suicide. I'll be giving a speech on Saturday, during which I tell my story.

Here's the last paragraph of my speech, which summarizes my main points:
There's no singular way to respond to this tremendously complicated crisis of suicide. What we need to do, though, is exactly what we've gathered here to do today - to connect with compassion; to talk openly about our pains and losses related to mental illness, depression, and suicide; to chip away at the monstrous levels of stigma that poison our cause; to take care of ourselves and each other - which means not harboring the often suffocating force of guilt- so that we can continue this all-important mission of creating a world without suicide, one step at a time.

So I won't have much time or energy to devote to blogland this week, and you may've already noticed my scaling back a bit. Sorry. Thank you for understanding. Thanks, Alex, for your support and forgiveness of my dropping out of the Blogfest...This event is a biggie. We've already raised more money than we did in past years, and we hope to have 500 people join the fight. It's pretty exciting.

Sometimes along the edge of trauma, we find beauty. This event is truly beautiful and uplifting.

Life is worth living -- for the chocolate, for the laughter, 

and to help pull each other out of the darkness.

Have a great week.

Merchant Marine, II: He Got Hot and Bothered. I Watched and Laughed.

   Troy and I were the only customers at House of Bamboo, a quaint Thai eatery in downtown Chico, site of our first date.
    "So tell me about your work on a spy ship," I said, "or would you have to kill me?"
   Troy appeared amused, yet suave. We perused the menus, took sips of ice water, and chatted. 
   "It's not that," he responded. "It's all confidential. I might be leaving in early May, but I don't know for sure, and I don't know where I'm going or what I'll be doing. On one project, we drilled at the bottom of the ocean. I'm sure we were looking for oil, but they didn't tell us."
    I contorted my face, perplexed. "How can you look for something if you don't know what you're looking for?"
   "Oh, I knew."
   The waiter approached, pen in hand, and started with my date.
   "I'll take the chicken curry soup with red curry," he said. "Really, really, spicy if you will."
    After I ordered, Troy emphasized, "Don't skimp on the spice please. I like it really hot." You are, I thought.

 ~~Insert easy discourse, and meal is served~~~

    Troy glanced at me, spooning his soup. "Go ahead. I'm listening."
   "Okay, well,"--I began chewing my chicken-- "long story longer, I came to Chico for a writing job that fell through. Then I went back to social services. It's great, even though" --I sat taller-- "I got punched in the nose by a client last Monday."
   "Wow!" Troy's eyebrows shot up.
   "It's not that bad, really." I feigned modesty. "I didn't get hurt at all, even though the client's twice my size, because I'm pretty tough and quick to respond in crisis and--"
   "Here, try this." Troy fed me a spoonful of soup, after which I quickly finished the rest of my water.
   "Yeah, that's hot! Woo, very spicy," I confirmed, disappointed that his "wow" wasn't in response to my bravado.
   "I like it this way," he said casually, pearls of sweat forming on his brow.
   Troy continued to eat, sweat, and dab his forehead with a white cloth napkin. This cycle repeated itself. Meanwhile, I rambled as if I didn't notice.    
   
   The waiter rushed over. "Are you okay, sir?"
   I couldn't help but laugh. "He's trying to tough it out. The man's gonna finish that soup, if it's that last thing he does. And it might just be the last thing he does."
   With a chuckle, the waiter left to bring a pitcher of water.
   "I'm fine," Troy assured me. "I like it really hot." You are, I thought, and so do I.
   As he subtlety ran the back of his hand across his forehead, I said, "Anyway, I spend all my spare time, if there is such a thing as spare time, what a concept, huh? I spend all of it on writing projects like..."
  
   I finished my meal a couple minutes before Troy proudly displayed his shiny, empty soup bowl.

~~Insert walking and talking~~~

   Troy reached for the door handle and opened my car door. He then leaned in and imparted a warm brief kiss tastefully tinged with romance, seduction and really, really hot spicy Thai red curry soup.
  "Give me a call," I said, as I scooted into the driver's seat.
  "No, you call me. I asked you out, so you make the next call."
  Interesting rule, Joe Cool. "Okay, I will." ...and so HE would...Stay tuned.

Turkeys and Miracles: Sundays in My City

UnknownMami hosts this Sunday extravaganza. Visit her site here to visit the world. Thanks for stopping by. Welcome to Chico, CA, home of spunky turkeys.

 "YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?"

 

This sweet mother-daughter turkey duo stopped applying feathers to pose for a photo.   Daughter told me it was her first 5K Run for Food. I shared that it was mine too...We waved at each other when she took a break after the first mile.

On Thanksgiving morn, over 5,000 people ran/walked to raise money for the Jesus Center, a community stronghold for over 30 years. 

With every stride, my thighs felt like bricks, pangs of soreness shot up and down my calves, and my knees screamed for mercy. As I rounded the 4K mark, a man behind me told his child,  "We're going to lift you across the finish line." I turned to see a young girl running between her parents, with all her might. I thought to ask if they'd kindly lift me too. But then he told his daughter that there'd be food at the finish line. I looked at him, shouted "Thank you!" and left that family for dust as I soared across the finish-line.

Given there was a time earlier this year, after major surgery, when the best I could do was walk to the corner and back, it's a small miracle that I was able to run a 5K. Moreover, I'm thankful to be in such a caring community that puts forth this effort on Thanksgiving. All told, money was raised to provide over 110, 000 meals to those in need. 

Last night, friends joined me in a wonderful celebration of Thanksgivukkah, Hanukah's fourth night. We're grateful for light and all that it symbolizes.

Celebrate your blessings this holiday season.

Have a safe, peaceful, hopeful Sunday and new week.