dearest friends who have responded to me here,
 
i thought i should start my own thread, as i find myself writing more and more about myself, my family and our situation in responding to everyone else.
 
twenty-five years ago this fall, my now-ex-husband fell ill.   the reasons are complicated and difficult to explain, but the simplest thing to say is that a series of medically prescribed medications almost killed him.   another doctor listed his cause for physical collapse as iatrigenic -- physician caused.    it took him over four months to return to hi part-time position as my co-pastor at a church we served together.
 
he never recovered.   when he returned to work, he was unable to complete tasks that were relatively easy for him before this overdose, mismedication (either the overdose or the taking of some medications together, as he had been directed to do, could have killed him -- almost killed him).
 
we kept trying to make things work, sharing the child care of our two very young children, who were just short of one and four in the fall of 1984.   i had to take over more and more of my husband's job.  i trusted that, with time, he would recover.   what i now see is that the physical trauma of the over, counter, medications set off a serious illness which was already in his system and just waiting to be triggered.  
 
by the fall of 1986, jim could no longer attempt to work.   he collapsed with severe depression, unending fatigue, short-term memory loss, and inability to concentrate on september 6, 1986.   it was a saturday night.  i thought he had  been preparing his sermon.   as i was putting out two children to bed, he came up the stairs, his face covered with tears.  he said, "i want to live to see my children grow up."
 
he had not been planning his sermon.   he had been planning his suicide.
 
in just one day, all of our lives completely changed.  for me, it meant that i had to try to take on this full-time job, which meant around 55 hours a week.   i had been home four days a week with our children.   suddenly i was ripped away from my children, being out with meetings four to five nights a week.   my daughter was almost three.  my son was almost six.  i think we all thought we had died.   my daughter would cry for an hour everytime i left the house at night -- for a year.   she and i still spend time in therapy trying to heal that terrible ripping apart, as do my son and i.   my husband was at home, but mostly bedridden, and suicidal on and off for years without adequate support from the mental health system -- not for lack of trying.  he tried everything he could, but he did not have very good doctors for about four years.   for the first several years, every time i came home, i would wonder whether my husband and my children would still be alive.  i could not get my husband's doctors to believe how much he was talking about suicide and how increasingly volative he was becoming.    and he would not remember, as flashbacks from childhood trauma began to invade his mind and our family.
 
over time, we would learn that all of us had the same seriously disabling illness,  severe chronic fatigue syndrome.  prior to our coming to this small suburban church as co-pastors, we had served as interim co-pastors in a small rural farming town of around 1100 people.   it took years to put this all together, but over time, things unfolded for this town and for us.
 
no one can prove the link between these facts, but we are certain they are related.   this small town had a toxic waste dump, buried under a building, just west of town, next to the town's water supply.   this waste dump was first on the county's list of priorities and was to have been cleaned up via the superfund for toxic waste cleanup, a program of our federal government.   however, when a new president came into office in 1981, he immediately shut down all funding for this project.
 
we lived in this town for four months in the fall of 1981.   at that time it was my husband, myself, and our eight month old son.   after we left this town, our general health slowly declined, with an increasing number of  bad infections for all of us.
 
the toxic waste dump is still there.   at this point, between one quarter and one third of this town is sick with the same disabling illness that we have, severe chronic fatigue syndrome.    we have all become ill over time.  though my daughter had not lived in this town, it was passed on to her in the womb.  for my husband, myself, and our son, a trauma to the body triggered the onset of illness:  the overdose for my husband, surgery in nov. 1990 for me, and mono in 6th grade (1992) for my son.  this is called "acute onset" cfids.  my daughter's version is called "insidious onset".   she just got sicker and sicker over time, until she was diagnosed with cfids in 1994.
 
this is not just an annoying, inconvenient illness.  it robs you of your life.   when both of my children were ill at the same time, they were sleeping 18 to 20 hours a day.  i was doing better than they were at the time, so i had to take on the challenge of home schooling.  they were too ill to stay awake one hour for tutoring.  and i was only sleeping 16 hours a day.
 
i cannot write anymore about this, as the pain is just too great.
 
our marriage could not hold together with the stress of both of us being completely disabled by illness.   i lost my pastorate, but also, my entire career, as a small group in my church and some members of my higher ecclesiastical body decided to accuse me of lying about being ill and cheating the church out of money.   this completely devastated me, as i had always been there for them.  none of them even came to visit.  on february 26, 1991, i came close to taking my life.   i hope to never be in that place again.   i had attempted a short return to work, but collapsed with a mental breakdown and asthmatic bronchitis.  i went on total disability.
 
in one month in the fall of 1991, i lost so much that i barely survived.   my husband and i separated on october 15.   my relationship with the church was officially ended on october 31 (i had been on medical leave since feb. 26).   i was forced to move out of the church manse.    and my medical and psychiatric condition worsened with the physical stress of the move.
 
i searched for years for a complete diagnosis.  it took until late fall of 1993 to be diagnosed with cfids.  the kids and i ended up with the same specialist, 70 miles away.
 
all i can say about this is that the stress, physical pain, psychological stress, grief, despair, and exhaustion of all this has been unrelenting.   this is not to say that there have not been meaningful and good times.   i have used by 12 step program to survive all of this, even though i have wanted to give up so many times.   my children have also had their times they have wanted to give up.   the worst pain for all of us has been when family (my family and their own father) and teachers and staff would say we were not ill.  i think god placed us all there together, with me home schooling my kids with a white-knuckled grip to the edge of a cliff, on and off for eight years.
 
over time there has been increasing loss for me, as i have become even more ill.  at this point i cannot stand up for more than ten minutes or sit up for more than twenty without becoming very, very sick, often ending up in the hospital emergency room on an iv saline drip to put fluids back into my vascular system.  at this point, i have nine medical illnesses and two mental health illnesses, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.  the autonomic nervous system of my brain is degenerating, which is why most of my life is lived lying down.  there is no treatment and no hope for a cure.
 
i have struggled to have enough food for about ten years.   the increasing medical co-pays and deductibles have left me with nothing.   i do not even have an old car, though shopping via bus makes all my medical conditions worse.  
 
i was homeless for five and a half months between may 2001 and may 2002.   i was not allowed even one night on a cot in a shelter.   i was close to starving many times.   i struggled with diabetic cellulitis that almost took my left hand and forearm.  i was raped.   i almost froze to death in the winter, in 10 degree weather.
 
when people say "we all have had our bad times", i don't think they can even conceive of a life like mine.  it is so ridiculous that it leads to gallows humor.
 
the worst thing in all of this is the inability of my mother and my two older brothers to even talk to me about the illness that the kids and i all have.   in my mother's eyes, i caused my own homelessness.   i have caused all the times i had little food.  i have mispent money.   i must be caused four men to seriously hurt me in the past ten years:  one assault, one rape, one sexual molestation on a public bus, one sexual assault by someone i had thought was my boyfriend. 
 
i barely survive from one day to another.   even tonight, i am hungry and trying to figure out what i can do to supplement what i have.  i give what i can of what i have to my 25 year old daughter, because she often has even less food than i do.  i am terrified for the future of my kids, as both of them face the ending of health insurance in december.
 
i cry and cry and cry.
 
in the middle of all this, i have never stopped singing.   ten years ago, i started writing songs again, and have written over 50 since then.   i started working onmy writing five years ago.   i am now working on a book about my experience of being homeless, looking at spirituality, life experiences, and values instilled in me that made it possible for me to survive.   there must be a god or i would not be here.   many people have died in the very situation through which i lived.
 
i survived.  i hope to use this to help other people.   i hope to finish copyrighting and recording my songs.
 
but more than anything else, i pray for something i did not think was possible until today:  the return of some health for my children and, if possible, for myself.
 
today's new york times said that they have finally found the retrovirus that either causes or is part of the cause for cfids.  after twenty-five years, there is hope for developing treatments.  retroviruses never leave.  hiv is a retrovirus.  but ways have been developed to treat retroviruses and try to give people their lives back.
 
i need your prayers and support.   my children, jesse and rebecca, need your prayers and support.   there is so much grief that i am afraid i will disappear into the tears.  i still live in fear of homelessness all the time.  i still find it difficult to get enough food.   i cannot stand up long enough to do my dishes or housework, yet i do not qualify for any help.   i am not quite poor enough!!!!  (this is where cuba gooding, jr. comes in and says, "show me the money.")
 
i am terrified.  i am in pain.   i have gone through this every day for twenty-five years.   part of me is very alive.  part of me is half dead.
 
in meditation, in writing, in time with my kids, and especially, in my music, i find LIFE.   there must be a reason for my life, because i am still here.
 
for me to pray everyday, "god, help me to keep being a loving person" is a prayerful cry to god to not let me become spiritually dead.
 
this is too long.  i know it is.  but i opened the door to let you in.   when i had to tell my story to a counselor several years ago, right in the middle she said, "i need a break.  i can't take all this.  i need a break."   i remember thinking, "you are so lucky you get to take a break.  i don't."
 
and to think that, as a young woman, i thought i would be a second grade teacher, get married, have children, and be an active part of my community.
 
but, as they say in aa, god does not create junk.   i am truly an earthen vessel, one with very many holes.  "we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that we may know that the light comes from god and not ourselves."
 
in all humility and love,
butterfly spirit
 
 

Now joy is falling down, like the rain upon the ground,
Bringing laughter, bringing hope, bring love.
My heart is like a butterly breaking out into the sky,
And flying cross the heavens high above.

Hallo, butterfly..
 
I am so sorry for you, wanted to say that before I try to go to bed. You really have my sympathy.
 
Sleep well,
is.
 

If you want to know something about someone, listen to your heart.

Dear Mary Lou,
 
Thank you for sharing your story with us! My heart goes out to you! Reading your post I do feel almost overwhelmed by all the misfortune you have suffered. You have struggled so bravely and continue to do so! I am glad you have your singing and writing to nourish your spirit! I admire your spirit - butterfly spirit! Butterflies are symbols of resurrection!
It takes a leap of faith, but I hope and pray that it will come to you at the right time!
 
I'll light a candle for you in the ALL group!
 
Much love and warm hugs,
Edda

Peace and joy!

Dear Mary Lou,

I am deeply moved by what has happened to you in life. Yet your spirit seems not to be broken. I am going to light a candle for you in the ALL group, and I´ll keep you in my prayer.

With much Love,
Juliana

"Speak Peace in a World of Conflict" (M.B.Rosenberg)

dearest new friends,
 
thank you all for your kind, loving responses.  i have a lot to offer in support of others, but i thought i should let you know about my quest for healing from all this.   i hope someone laughed at my story about the counselor.  when she said she had to take a break half way through the questions she had asked me, because she couldn't take it, that struck me as funny, in a gallows humor kind of way.   when the therapist has to take a break, you know something is a little weird.
 
i would like to explain the name, butterflyspirit.
 
one of my closest friends is named isa, the first part of her native american vision quest name.  isa is 26 years older than i am, but so much like my sister that age makes no difference.  her husband, hasa, is a shaman, an onondagan medicine man with 35 years aa sobriety.   he is also my dear friend, as well as my twelve step spiritual mentor.
 
through studying our families geneology in the mid 90's, i learned that i am one small part penobscot indian.  my parents were from maine.   i have always felt a connection with the penobscot indians whose reservation is right across the river from my mother's hometown.
 
i had spoken with hasa many times about wishing i could do a vision quest, but knowing that, with the cfs and the diabetes, i could not.   in 1997, the one summer i felt well since i became ill, i was given a small amount of money.  i took my children, who were being homeschooled at the time, on a long, long, semi-insane trip -- it was one of the best things i have ever done. 
 
i wanted them to see that there was a great big world beyond the limitations of their illnesses.  they both love theater, and so i took them to "ragtime" in toronto and then to three plays on broadway.
 
then we drove westward, all across our country, to visit my best friends on the eastern plains of oregon.  hasa and isa live in a tiny little town called ione.
 
they got to see the huge openness of the plains and the vast blueness of the sky.   we visited the badlands by moonlight.   we drove through the mountains in wyoming.  towards the end of this journey, i drove all through the night from western wyoming, up through montana, down out of the mountains in the early morning hours into idaho, through a section of washington, and finally on to ione.
 
there was something about this journey that felt like a vision quest.   when we came to eastern south dakota, we found fields of brilliant sunflowers.  and then, while pulling into a rest area, a monarch butterfly flew into my car windsheild.   amazingly, it was totally intact, and so i moved it inside the car to a protective little box.  it was so beautiful.   and i had the very strange experience as that butterfly died.   i felt as if the spirit of the butterfly moved into me.
 
the night i drove through all the mountains while the children slept, the moonlight was mesmerizing.   though my children were there, i was all alone in the quiet of the dark sky.  i kept thinking about that butterfly as i drove.
 
then it came to me as a gift:  butterfly spirit singing woman.   this was my vision quest name.
 
when we came to ione, i asked hasa if this made any sense, since i couldn't do a regular three day vision quest.  he told me it made perfect sense to him.  the butterfly is the only living being that is two different beings in one lifetime.  then he told me something that changed my life.   the cocoon is made from the vomit of the dying caterpillar.   the butterfly is born out of death, transformed into a new being.  
 
butterfly spirit singing woman -- or, as it is in Onondagan -- telia orenda gawenta whee.
 
this is my vision quest name.   it is always with me.   out of the darkness comes light.    out of despair comes hope.   out of death comes life.
 
love to all of you,
 
butterfly spirit 

Now joy is falling down, like the rain upon the ground,
Bringing laughter, bringing hope, bring love.
My heart is like a butterly breaking out into the sky,
And flying cross the heavens high above.

Dear Butterfly Spirit Mary Lou,
Thank you so much for all of that, especially your vision quest which is so beautiful.
 
I don't have the time just now to reply properly, but will later.
 
Blessings of Light, Love and Healing to you and your family,
Jude

Love is the only way

Dear butterfly spirit . . .
I will respond more later,
but I want you to know
that you are not truly alone,
but are held in love and compassion . . .
a candle burns for you
and for your family
with love . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

dearest friends,
 
thank you for your kindness and support.  now that i have shared all that, i don't feel the need to say a ton more right now, but i am sure there will be things that come up.  it is frightening to let anyone know the tremendous weight i carry with me all the time.
 
my greatest need for healing is emotional, as i come to terms, day by day, with the physical and am doing everything i can to help these things.   i have changed the way it eat, taken up meditation, used music to aid in relaxing my body, do very moderate exercise, read everything i can find, etc.   i do pray so fervently that my children will not become as ill as i have become and that there may be hope for all of us in the future.
 
but i have struggled to heal from the emotional devastation of being homeless.   my writing is helping me with this.  therapy and my twelve step program help.  but there is such a deep sorrow around that experience of complete isolation that i struggle to recover my sense of self.   i finally was able to have a lease renewed this year, as i received physical help with setting up my apartment, even though it took a lot of time (i cannot lift much of anything).   since becoming homeless, without warning, on may 4, 2001 at 11 a.m., i have had to move 20 times.  this includes in and out of the van, tents, rooms, and all sorts of apartments (studios, one bdrms, two bdrms, townhouse) that were a catastrophe because i could not move my stuff out of storage (once again, because i cannot lift and there was little to no help).
 
since my lease was renewed by my landlord after one and a half years, i am beginning to trust that i can survive here.   that constant fear is beginning to subside.  and it feels as if i am slowly finding my inner self again.   it helps me to reach out to others here.   i find that "i am still here".   i am surprised by the depth of what i have to share.  that is the miracle of healing and transformation.
 
thank you for this space.   it takes the edge off of my intense loneliness here.   it reminds me that, indeed, i am not alone.
 
i am going to take a nap, with blu,  my three legged australlian cattle-dog mix dog, who was adopted in february.  he is a snuggler, and ever so much kinder than my last boyfriend!   he will smush up right next to me and sleep through the night.   he was three when i adopted him and i have never seen a happier dog.   we play frisbee every day -- inside the apartment when the weather gets cold.  i have only broken something once.  
 
love,
 
butterflyspirit

Now joy is falling down, like the rain upon the ground,
Bringing laughter, bringing hope, bring love.
My heart is like a butterly breaking out into the sky,
And flying cross the heavens high above.

Dear Mary Lou.
 
my hearts goes right out to you for all the thin gs thjat have hurtds you in different ways and made you sad.  you have been through so much, but still carry on doing stuff - and i love the fact that you have beeen writing music.  i like doing that myself but i pray for you that this talent will be with you many years from now, anf that it continues to nouridh you, and i dont know about you but writing music, but for me when i am writing i feel like that is time between me and God, and the songs he gives you can be used to help others too if they hear any of your work
 
i have been homeless about thirtenn years ago when i tried to run away from my abusers, and boy can i relate to you when you talk of the fear of being in that situation... and apart from anything else i found that it had a big effect on me.
 
please know that i am prayer for you Mary Lou, and will light a candle for you.  you are a very corageous woman, and i am blessed to have met you here.  you nspire me to keep going even hen things seem to big to handle
 
lots of love
 
dancing dolphin

Dear butterflyspirit . . .

we play frisbee every day -- inside the apartment when the weather gets cold.  i have only broken something once.  

. . . surely less destructive than my four cats!
 
Peace to you . . .
and to your dear Blu.
You are not alone.
Keep singing
with love . . .
sparrow
      ♥
 

everything counts... ♥

Dear Butterflyspirit,
I am deeply moved by your story not least because it hits on one of the things that I have always felt strongly about...the willful neglect of the causes and the victims of toxic poisoning.
I am grateful that I do not suffer as you have, but I have been affected by the use of aerial crop spraying with pesticides in the 1970s and 80s, made worse by my own use of similar chemicals to control flea infestations in my home. It made me angry then, and still does, that people were ignored and the truth distorted in favour of proffit.
 
I did recover from that, but had it triggered in another form by a virus about 4 years ago. Strangely, my acupuncturist suffered the same virus and has the same illness now, but in a way that was lucky for me as he has managed to keep my illness controlled to a minimum with acupuncture.
I am very thankful that I am not seriously ill as many are, and lead a normal life...if a little slower.
 
I am astounded by your bright spirit, and can I say here, that I saw your picture on your profile and you are a beautiful woman. Beauty within and without!
 
Writing to Eleanor earlier,(Re: Upset) I became aware that the waterfall has been a feature of my 'inner' life more than I realized. Many years ago I belonged to a meditaion group, and one night we were guided to find our spirit guide and spirit name. It had to be from nature. I think I've written of this on here before, but neither I or you will find it now! so I will rewrite it for you.
 
We were guided to a place to prepare us for meeting our spirit guide, through woods and paths, until we came to a temple. Mine was like a mud hut in the woods, with thick twigs for a roof and a large, solid wooden door. In my meditation I came to the temple after having to find my way through a waterfall! Now I am not fond of water and hate getting wet, but I have done a lot of things in water in meditation.
I had to walk through this waterfall, that was so bright, the water droplets were like diamonds. (all this was my own experience...not part of the guiding words) the great wooden door in this tiny structure was very significant...going through the door of transformation. Inside it was very dark at first, until I saw rainbow lights streaming through a window in the roof, and a little altar with one candle burning. I was asked to sit with the candle and wait for my next step. Soon a golden door became visible and was being opened a little. I walked towards it and opened it up more........whereapon I was faced with another of my great fears...heights. I was suddenly on top of a very high grass-covered mountain with sheer drops in front of me! I sat down on the grass with some trepidation and saw miles below me, a little line of a river, and before me, in the distance, more mountains with others beyond them covered in snow.
 
Suddenly I became aware of a large bird flying towards me. It was a Golden eagle. She settled down a few feet from my right and looked straight at me. I was over-awed by her powerful eyes and her strength.
 
Back in the room, where we all discussed our experiences, my spirit name became "Bright Water Eagle" She had obviously come to me, a timid and hurting woman too scared to say boo to a goose, to help me find my own personal power, to see clearly.....and to fly.
 
I think your story fits very well into a book, I really do, and...
Butterfly spirit singing woman.....sing, sing, sing.
 
with Love and Blessings,
Jude
 

Love is the only way

Thinking of you Butterflyspirit and holding you in prayer.

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love~and be loved in return♥♥  


 

Blessings on your day dear MaryLou,
 
With Love,
Jude

Love is the only way

Dear butterfly spirit . . .
Your journey
has been hard and not without pain and terror.

out of the darkness comes light.    out of despair comes hope.   out of death comes life.

I do believe
that many of our most important lessons
are learned through deepest sorrow and suffering.
My life too,
has held much turmoil
including some of the things you talk about.
Somehow,
I have come this far
with my health intact inspite of everything.
I am a slow learner,
and it takes much to make me wake up and take notice . . .
some people can learn from a slap on the hand,
but I had to go down into the pit
over and over again
for my own wakeup calls . . .
It is the 'tragedies'
that have been my salvation in the 'end' . . .
by 'end'
I mean the place where transformation began to occur . . .
you have a wonderful, powerful gift
in being able to write music,
and I believe through its pursuit
you will find more healing than you can imagine,
or perhaps you already know this.
Blessings to you,
dear butterfly spirit,
as you emerge from your cocoon
into life
into light
with love that you cannot yet imagine . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

dearest friends,
 
all of your sharing is most precious to me.   i have a family of origin, my two older brothers and my mother, who will not even acknowledge or speak of the fact that i was homeless or the reality that i have suffered three sexual attacks between 2001 and 2007.   as far as they are concerned, these things never even happened.   to quote my oldest brother's exact words, they are "figments of my imagination" or things that "supposedly" happened to me.   my mother will only acknowledge the homelessness in a minimal way, and insists that i must have had warning and must have caused this myself.
 
even with video documentation in one case and rape kit documentation in another, none of the sexual crimes ever happened.   there has never been a word of sympathy or any acknowledge that i have endured something shattering to the soul.
 
what makes this even more difficult is that my oldest cousin's daughter was date raped in her freshman year of college many years ago.  she very, very bravely pressed charges against the young man who raped her.   everyone on my mother's side of the family, including my mother and my two brothers, stood in total support behind her.
 
tragically, the rapist was acquitted.   the judge had not allowed anyone on the jury who had ever heard of the concept of date rape.   my cousin's young daughter almost took her own life.   her recovery took a long time.   the entire family stood behind her.   today she is happily married and has a beautiful baby.
 
even with all this, there is no one on my mother's side of the family who will acknowledge anything that has happened to me.   my own family of origin tells everyone else that this is all mental illness and that none of this happened.
 
this is very, very painful for me.   i think it is even more devastating to my young adult children.    they kept me alive during those months i was homeless, with their gifts of food and my late teenage daughter's financial help from her small income as a hostess as a restaurant.  my children have also stood by my side as i went through the legal system with two out of three of these, plus a previous physical attack (not a rape) by an earlier "boyfriend." 
 
when i became disabled and ended up a very ill single parent with two very ill children, i lost the ability to "read" people and pick up warning signs.   i was so desparately in need of help that my mind would separate out the bad things -- dissociate would be the correct term - in order to survive.
 
i have spent years trying to heal emotionally.   the space i find here, the writing i am doing on my blog, and the longterm project of a book reflecting on the period of homelessness are all helping me to find myself again.  
 
my music is also helping me.   i am trying very hard to finishing copyrighting my over seventy songs and get them recorded.   i have severe financial limitations, but i am still trying.   i believe that music has been the gift of my creator which has given me the strength to survive.   the other thing that has allowed me to survive and begin to heal is the amazing love between myself and my two children.
 
lilsparrow, when you speak of life, light, and love greater than what i can imagine, i smile.  it makes me think of the phrase from one of the promises in my twelve step program:  "beyond our wildest imaginations".  
 
i am singing tomorrow, actually later today, at a local farmers' market.   i haven't sung for a group in almost two years, since the sexual assault by the man i had thought was my boyfriend.    it will be very cold, but i will sing as much as i can, until my fingers get numb!!
 
there is an old quaker hymn that has becoming my themesong in life.
 
     "since love is lord of heaven and earth,
      how can i keep from singing?"
 
much love and gratitude for all of you and the kindness and love you give,
butterfly spirit

Now joy is falling down, like the rain upon the ground,
Bringing laughter, bringing hope, bring love.
My heart is like a butterly breaking out into the sky,
And flying cross the heavens high above.

Dear Mary Lou,
I have come accross so many people who have negative stories to tell about their families, especially parents, and I am very grateful I didn't have such an experience. A very wise counsellor and spiritual friend gave me a very valuable lesson some years ago, that we cannot change anyone else...only ourselves and our own perceptions. To accept people just as they are and to try and love them anyway. Although a hard lesson, this has helped me accept people as they are and not how I would like them to be.
My own Son has given me the hardest life-lessons, as he changed from a loving and gentle child into an aggressive and unkind man. I have no choice but to accept that this is how is at the moment, painful though it is for me, and to keep hope that one day that kind and gentle child will win over.
 
I realize how painful it must be for you to not have the support of your family, but this must be the life-lesson for you, to find your own inner rescources and your own 'family.'
My husband of 33 years left me nearly 12 years ago, when I was a very timid and dependent woman. I had to start learning independence straight away, and I believe I am a much better and stronger human being now......and far less selfish too. It's taking me all of my life and I guess it's the same for us all, or most of us.
 
I agree with Sparrow, that you have a "wonderful, powerful gift" in your music. Music can transform us.
 
It's good to talk to you, dear Butterfly spirit
 
Love and Blessings,      
Jude

Love is the only way

Please forgive my blunt honesty.   When I hear things such as "life lesson" after a whole family being ill over a period of 25 years, having a suicidal husband for years, having been so close to suicidal myself because I cannot take all the pain, watching both of my children go through the same thing, homelessness, rape, poverty ---- if I think of "life lessons", I want to scream.
 
I do not believe in reincarnation.   I do believe life has tragic moments and periods and years, for some much more than others.   I believe suffering is pretty random.
 
I also believe in a loving God far beyond what I can imagine.  I know that using what I have been through to help another person is the only way I can stand to stay alive.  I am so close to the edge at all times recently that, when I hear "life lesson" I want to scream "Then I am quitting school!  I don't have to take this abuse."
 
In Babylonian mythology, human beings were created from the blood of a god who was defeated by Marduk.  Human beings were created only to serve Marduk, and therefore, all of life is suffering.
 
In Buddhism, one of the basic tenets is that all of life is suffering.  The highest goal of buddhism is compassion.  My adopted Laotian brother is a Buddhist monk.  He is now back in Laos.  When he was here, I used to call him for spiritual counseling, because he was so gentle and kind.
 
After my husband collapsed, I became stronger.   But then he no longer loved me, because he preferred the other me.   After I became ill, and then my son, and then my daughter, I broke.
 
Please do not write to me of life lessons.   I got an A plus in my studies long ago.
 
I am waiting for hope, joy, love -- new beginnings -- and work towards that.   I was written out of the family will for my third of inheriting the family cottage in Maine.   This has deeply wounded me and devastated my children.  Why?  Because they do not believe I am physically ill.   I am simply a bad person who deserves nothing, in their eyes.
 
Now that every clergy friend, all members of my family of origin, all my music friends, all my community friends have disappeared because people run away from chronic illness, I find myself without a hand to hold when things come to their worst.
 
I think this site is only deepening my depression.   I can't argue about meaning or purpose or interpretation of my experience.
 
I know the children starving in the streets of Varanasi, India in 1968 were not there for a "life lesson".   I do know that God's test, if there was one, was of the rest of the world to see if we could look beyond ourselves to help others in need.
 
The only answer I know is love -- losing one's life to find one's life -- reaching out to another struggling in the night.  If I stop to think about meaning, I will give up.   Job never found any answers.   The last chapter was tacked on by a later community.   It has different syntax, grammar and vocabulary (yes, I studied Biblical Hebrew).  All Job ever finds is God.  
 
I don't know if I can stay here.   It is too painful.  Butterflies are beautiful, but they are easily killed.   That  is what I feel like living in this world.  People can tell me what it all means, but can they give me something to eat?
 
butterflyspirit

Now joy is falling down, like the rain upon the ground,
Bringing laughter, bringing hope, bring love.
My heart is like a butterly breaking out into the sky,
And flying cross the heavens high above.

Dear Butterfly Spirit,
 
I agree life can be hard. Sorry I hurt you, that was not my intention.
 
Blessings and Love,
Jude

Love is the only way

I am sorry,
dear butterfly spirit,
that you are in so much pain . . .
and continue to hold you close in my heart ~
sister of my soul in suffering . . .
I pray that someday
we may be sisters in healing.
You have strength you may not know,
and we are with you in spirit.
Do not give up . . .
do not succumb to temptations into bitterness.
Your salvation lies in love
and in rising above betrayal.
A broken heart is an open heart . . .
let love in,
and with it will come forgiveness.
 
You lit up my morning with the mention of the Quaker song . . .
it is one that is very dear to me . . .
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qnClESui3Zw
I shall carry a vision
of you singing it at the farmer's market
as I go into my day
with much love . . .
sparrow
 

everything counts... ♥

You lit up my morning with the mention of the Quaker song . . . it is one that is very dear to me . . .

 
Thank you Sparrow and Mary Lou for the song. It's one of my favourites too.
 
With Love,
Jude

Love is the only way

Dear friends,
 
thank you for hanging in there with me.   i continue to find that the only way out of this discouragement is to reach out to others in need.   i have offered my extra bed as a back-up place for a 70 year old woman who was brutally evicted from her farm home yesterday.   i suspect others closer to her (she lives 50 miles away) are helping her.  but my friend, my singing partner, who is her neighbor was so upset for what happened to their dear friend.  i offered to be a warm, safe place, if needed, because i have been where she is now.   like her, i had absolutely no warning when i became homeless in may 2001.
 
i appreciate all the comments.  sorry i was angry.
 
years ago, when i was still pastor of a church, i used to do home visitation of shut-ins with an accompanying deacon.  one time i remember especially because of the conversation that took place en route.  lily was a feisty spirit, now with all the other feisty angels in heaven.   she and her husband came here from scotland.
 
at this point, my husband had had to go on disability for depression and medical problems without a diagnosis.  i had taken over as full-time pastor and was totally stressed out, though i tried not to show it.   lily had had six children, and the two sons had died:  one at age 16 in a motorcycle accident years before and the other, the eldest, had taken his own life at age 35.  peter's memorial service was the first memorial service i ever led as a minister.  i still remember that, when they started playing the song "vincent", which is about van gogh taking his own life, i had to fight to keep it together.
 
lily and i started talking about all the stupid, ignorant things people had said to us when they did not know what to say.   one of them said to me, after my husband became bedridden almost all of the time was:  "this will make him a better minister."  (he never returned to ministry and is now somewhere between agnostic and atheist).   then we talked about all the people who said, "god is testing you."    we got laughing so hard when we came up with this response (which neither one of us would ever really say to anyone):   "i've been tested already.  i got an a plus.  now it is your turn for the test."
 
we laughed and laughed.   there were other things, but i cannot remember them.    then, we went to take communion to our dear friend, ray, who was homebound and dying of a degenerative muscle disease.
 
this comment really resonated with me;
 
         "A broken heart is an open heart . . . "
 
that is so true.  it reminds me of the last verse of one of my favorite songs to sing.
 
          "it's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance,
           it's the dream afraid of waking that never takes a chance,
           it's the one that won't be taken that cannot learn to give,
           and the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live."
 
                        from "The Rose"
 
 i am doing much better today, thank you.   since grace, the 70 year old woman, has shelter, i have now offered the same bed to my daughter's on again, off again fiance, who is without heat.   i don't think he will take me up on it, but i have also offered a small amount for groceries or food for the beautiful one year old dog, druss.   
 
one never knows where god will call us next.
 
please light a candle for grace and one for ed in the ALL space.   they can both use our prayers.
 
love,
butterflyspirit

Now joy is falling down, like the rain upon the ground,
Bringing laughter, bringing hope, bring love.
My heart is like a butterly breaking out into the sky,
And flying cross the heavens high above.

"A broken heart is an open heart . . . "

 
This is really what I was saying...
 
Dear Mary Lou,
I'm glad you feel better today. It sounds as if you've had a busy one!
 
I enjoyed what you wrote about the laughter. I'm finding more and more that laughter is the best response at times, and a great release.
 
Blessings,
Jude

Love is the only way

I too,
believe that laughter
is a great cathartic . . .
I am happy
that you are feeling better today.
Candles are lit for you,
and for Grace and Ed as well.
'The Rose' is also one of my favorite songs.
Listening to it,
I can feel my heart opening
always
with love . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

Dearest Friends,
 
I know it has been almost one month since I wrote anything here.  I have been sinking lower and lower into worsened depression.  Only two days ago I learned that the cholesterol med I have taken for ten weeks can cause and/or increase depression, insomnia, suicidal thoughts, paranoia, delusions, psychosis.....    I have had the first three in increasing degrees during the ten weeks I took this med.
 
So now I am exploring alternatives such as red yeast rice, as I really cannot afford increased depression, when I have been treated for clinical depression for twenty years!!   I am glad this question of side effects finally entered my head -- what I call a spiritual nudge to ask more questions.
 
So I am hopeful that I will be doing better soon.
 
Thank you so much for your support during this very rough ride.  I will return to the site I was originally posting on.  And I have learned a lot from all of you and found a lot of love and support.  
 
Love,
butterfly spirit
 
 

Dear Butterflyspirit,
It sounds as if you got a very timely wake-up call. Like you, I would prefer to try a natural method of lowering cholesterol first. There are lots of foods that do it. Things like porage oats and almonds I believe, for two.
 
Blessings,
Jude

Love is the only way

Hi Mary,

I can relate to your experiences because I have had depression for 12 years.

It's difficult to console someone in depression because the questions to be answered are too many. On the other hand, it may be that an answer may bring a sudden relief...by untying a knot or by triggering a process where everything just falls into place...something that Buddha experienced on his enlightenment.

I'm writing in the light of the above. I wish I could help you somehow.

I would like to share here one experience of mine. There are many suggestions for those suffering from depression and I could say something from that. Those can help but what I say below is something I have experienced firsthand...o it is something that is not merely intellectual but also experiential.

Most people treating depression ignore one glaring thing. They think depression is only a matter of the spirit and that if the spirit is strong, everything will be fine. It is true but there is more to it. What is also true is that depression is regaining of not just spiritual well-being but also material well-being.


So it may well be that a change for the better in your material life will bring you out of depression. You may come across an opportunity that brings in wealth. But for that to happen, you need to be prepared. If you are not prepared, you will not value the opportunity even if it knocks at your door. God takes residence in a temple only after it is cleaned and made holy. Till then, it is merely a building and not a temple. So purify yourself and sit pretty. Before long, God will take residence in you and bless you in all ways.

God takes residence in a temple only after it is cleaned and made holy. Till then, it is merely a building and not a temple.

Dear Aravind . . .
I love the simplicity of your quote . . .
 
This especially speaks to me today
with love . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

Dear Mary Lou . . .
I am sorry to hear that your depression has been worsening,
but it is good that you may have discovered a cause.
Like Jude,
I believe that natural remedies are much more beneficial
if they work.
Flaxseed oil and ground flaxseed have proven helpful to many.
I will continue to hold you in my prayers,
and hope that you will find the solutions you seek
with much love . . .
sparrow

everything counts... ♥

Dear Mary Lou,
 
I am sorry you are going through such a difficult time.
It is good that you discovered a reason that contributes to your depression. You might want to talk to a nutritionist about what foods are most helpful in lowering your cholesterol. If necessary your doctor may be able to prescibe a different medication that does not affect you adversely!
 
I keep you in my prayers,
 
Much love,
Edda

Peace and joy!