Revisiting Gratitude
I really believe gratitude keeps me grounded and humble more than anything else does. Most us become overwhelmed by life from time to time—there is really no way to avoid it—but ending each night remembering everything I have to be grateful for keeps life in perspective. The bad days just don’t seem that bad. As I wrote in one of my first blog entries, when I first started the tradition of ending each night with my ‘gratefuls,’ the list was quite short; these days, my ‘gratefuls’ list is long enough that I am pretty drowsy when I reach the final item.
Writing my memoir has made this list even longer because reliving my past has made me more aware of how fortunate I really am. Countless times, I ran into just the right person who helped me along, or something (a guardian angel perhaps?) intervened in just the nick of time before disaster struck. Writing this book has also made me think of some people I have known who have not been nearly as lucky as I have been.
One person I had not thought about for many years was my childhood friend, Lisa. Lisa is almost three years younger than I am—and although we originally became friends based mostly on proximity, the friendship grew as we became older and we realized how much we had in common. The last time I spent any time with Lisa was in the summer of my twentieth year. After finishing my final tour with the New Shakespeare Company, I decided to move back to Montana for the summer to save money before my big move to New York City. That plan hadn’t worked out so well—it turned out there was a dearth of jobs in Bozeman and I couldn’t find anything more than minimum wage-paying, part-time work. I was starting to worry I might never make it to the Big Apple.
Lisa offered a solution to my problem with a quick suggestion. Bored of Bozeman and restless with youth, she wanted to explore life. She loved hearing my stories of San Francisco and traveling with the New Shakes, and having never been out of Montana, she too wanted to see what the world had to offer. She heard about a place called Mackinaw Island, Michigan, where supposedly, work was plentiful and came with housing. She was intrigued because she heard the Island allowed no automobiles; horses were the only means of transportation. As an avid equestrian and animal lover—it sounded like heaven on earth to her.
Since neither of us had much money, we decided to hitchhike to Michigan—a plan that would have worried most normal people. After all, it was only a few years since Ted Bundy went on his notorious killing spree in the Northwest. However, twenty-year-olds don’t consider the world’s evils—it never occurred to us something might happen. We were both so innocent.
So, we took off hitching our way to Mackinaw—which I write in more detail about in the book. During one experience, we stood in the pouring rain on a particularly daunting stretch that was home to the Montana state prison, as well as a juvenile residential treatment center and the state hospital for the insane—making it nearly impossible to get someone to stop. We ended up taking a ride I hadn’t been comfortable with but rain drenched and tired, we went against our better judgment. We ended up running from his car when he finally pulled into a gas station, even losing some of our belongings in the process because he ended up scaring us so badly. However, even that ride didn’t take the shine off our hitchhiking experience; we were invincible—as all young people are!
But it was not remembering that experience that filled me with so much gratitude (after all, I have many experiences where I have found myself extremely close to death). It was thinking about Lisa and comparing our two lives. You see, it was that summer that Lisa first developed what would become a lifelong battle with schizophrenia.
I noticed Lisa acting strangely while hitching to the Island. We would be talking when all of a sudden—she would mentally disappear. It was just as though a switch turned and the Lisa I knew would simply vanish. Once, walking into the room we shared in Mackinaw Island, I heard her laughing, seemingly having a conversation with someone I could not see. When I asked her what was going on, she became a different girl than the one I’d known since childhood—secretive and defensive.
As it turned out, I had to call Lisa’s father to wire money so she could return to Montana. I didn’t recognize she had mental illness—I just knew something was desperately wrong. After she left, I went on to New York City to pursue my acting dreams; I didn’t think much more about Lisa for quite some time. A few years later, on a visit home to Montana, I learned of her struggles with schizophrenia and depression—something she still battles today. Wrapped up in my own life in those days, I never gave Lisa that much thought until much later, after I moved back to Bozeman in my early recovery.
After starting school at MSU years later, I ran into Lisa again. She was living alone in a low-income apartment and seemed so sad and distant. I was so shocked at her appearance; her life's difficulties seemed etched in deep lines on her face, aging her far beyond her years. It didn't seem possible this sad old woman was once my pretty, outgoing friend. My mother told me Lisa had never gone to school, had never held a job, and had never been able to form close and meaningful relationships with others. Her schizophrenia had robbed her of those experiences.
Writing about my experiences has made me aware of how very much for which I am grateful. I did everything possible to end my life; not only in my three very serious suicide attempts but also in the very lifestyle I lived for so many years. Even though I treated my life with so much carelessness, I have still been rewarded a rich and fulfilling life. Even though the hard times were incredibly difficult, the wonderful times have far outweighed the bad. And no matter what—I have really lived life to the fullest. I would not trade any of it—not one minute—I am so grateful for it all—because no matter what, I have truly lived.
With gratitude and peace,
Melinda
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Categories: Friendship,Addiction and Recovery,Personal Stories,Writing the Memoir,Gratitude
Tags: schizophrenia mental illness gratitude personal stories friendship
No question, as big and heavy as the cross you bear might be, you're probably surrounded by people with bigger, heavier ones. That's something that struck me when I was dealing with losing my passport in Mexico recently...freaking out and being consoled by kind locals who couldn't have imagined being able to afford the kind of vacation I was enjoying....
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Exactly, Jay--those kinds of experiences always put our own lives in perspective. It's been bad and good but mostly, what a long, strange, trip it has been (thanks Jerry!).
Melinda
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I needed this today. You speak of places I have been. What MSU? Michigan State University is where I graduated in 1991.
My life seems so out of control and all I can do is think how happy I am to have a roof over my head and fresh water. Being grateful pulls me through.
I sometimes miss the "cluelessness" with which I lived my early years.
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I'm so glad this helped you today, Shane! Michigan State is a far more famous MSU--but the MSU I was referring to is Montana State, my alma mater.
I'm so sorry to hear your life is out of control--but you are dealing with it the right way--by remembering (with gratitude) that things could be much worse.
And (lol), I know what you mean! Certainly, innocense can be bliss.
Thanks for stopping by--
Melinda
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Your new blog design is most excellent indeed!
This is a wonderful post, Melinda. I'm also full of gratefuls, and even moreso when I read about someone like Lisa. A line from a Jackson Browne song came to mind: We started out so young and strong, only to surrender. because, in our cases, surrender was key to recovery.....and I wonder if Lisa didn't in some way surrender to her illness because the keys to fighting it weren't available to her.
I have a close friend who took a solo vacation to Mackinaw Island about ten years ago. He had a great time and I've always had it in my mind to see that place (aside from loving all the scenes in "Somewhere in Time). Then two years ago my sister and her family took their family vacation there. It was just prior to the boys' teen years so a good time was had by all. She sent me a T-shirt, and so far that's my only exposure to the island!
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Hi Lydia,
Thank you on the new blog design! I really like it too.
Interesting what you wrote about Lisa surrendering herself to schizophrenia--and I actually think that is quite insightful. She must have been terrifed at the time--hearing and seeing people who weren't there. I wish I'd have been better equipped to help her at that time--as it was, I was far too wrapped up in myself.
You did hit the nail on the head when you spoke of surrending in recovery--that's exactly what happened with me. I became so sick and tired of being sick and tired that I gave it all up to my higher power. Since then, life has been so much easier. It also helps to have support in recovery--and I wish that Lisa had found better support to help her in her illness.
Thanks as always for stopping by!
Melinda
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Melinda, thanks for your recent comment on my blog. Much appreciated. And I second Lydia, the new design is cool!
Like you, I've had many close calls.
Years ago in the midst of my recreational drug taking days, I had a whole bunch of 'friends' (as long as we were all still doing the same thing, that is).
I lost touch them all when I left that lifestyle behind.
So imagine my surprise when I received an email at work from someone else in my workplace asking if I was the person they thought I was?
Shed recognised me, but I would never have recognised her.
It had been years since I last saw Sarah, with one of my last memories being the time she spent in rehab trying to get over her addiction to shooting up - anything she could get her hands on. Water, if nothing else.
I was one of the lucky ones from that time, to see it all for what it was and make good with my escape. But Sarah, and others like her did not.
Time had completely changed her face, and yet over lunch I could tell that emotionally, she hadn't really grown beyond when we were 'naughty' (her word).
So even now, as I struggle, I know I'm blessed that my life didn't take the path it could've.
And no one gets out easy. So, I've also learned its of no value to compare what I'm dealing with to others. That's something my mother does, and no one's pain can ever be as bad as hers.
Consequently, she never has the ability to offer sympathy or compassion to others.
If nothing else, I think that's the greatest trait we can cultivate next to love.
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Very insightful, Svasti--I so agree that compassion is the greatest trait, other than love, that we can cultivate in ourselves. A nd of course, compassion and love really go together.
Your experience with running into your friend struck a chord with me when I have run into others who did a lot of drugs, as I did. This is again where I feel very lucky--because I have caught up with old friends who just don't have the cognitive ability to go to school as I did--which leads me to believe that there are some people who are affected far more than others are by using drugs; it's a crapshoot as to how it might turn out for each of us.
I'm so glad you never got really involved with drugs, Svasti--I would not wish that on anyone. I have known people who were so in love with the syringe they would shoot water if they had nothing else.
Take care,
Melinda
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I quite agree that graditute can keep one grounded, if they recognize it indeed. Also, in surrendering, that is the whole point to getting well. You have been through a hell of a lot, but with determination and I believe help from above, you pulled on through!! I appreciate Melinda you sharing this post. You have been to some exciting place (none of which I have ventured to) Blessings.
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Thank you so much, Just Be Real, I have definitely been through a lot--but I have had some help from amazing people. None of us ever win our battles alone.
Thanks for stopping by--
Melinda
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The new design looks wicked awesome.
The subject of this post hits a little too close to home to comment.
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Thanks Mike--I like the new design too. Sometimes you just need to shake things up a bit. I'm making some other changes too but they aren't completely finished yet.
Thanks for stopping by!
Melinda
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Writing experiences also empowers a being to stetp back and view events from a less subjective vantage point. This teaches you to detach from emotion, destructive thoughts and misunderstandings. Whether or not one chooses to share a journal with the world, this is part of a healing process.
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Liara--I could not agree with you more! Writing has been such an important part of my healing journey. Particularly writing the memoir when I have really uncovered the emotions of my past experienced (and have since been able to move on).
Thank you as always, for your insight and eloquence.
Melinda
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I was completely moved by reading this post. I felt really sad about what Lisa has gone through.
Its true that gratitude helps a lot in overcoming ones own sorrows. I have been through some bad times, but when I look around I see that there are people who been through much worse situations. This makes me feel better about myself and feel grateful that I am not in their place.
Thanks for the wonderful read.
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Saif, thank you so much for stopping by.
Lisa's life certainly did turn out to be mostly tragic. When I last saw her, she looked so completely unhappy and this was the most tragic of all. And seeing her definitely put my own trials and tribulations into perspective.
Take care,
Melinda
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Hi Melinda! I stayed with several friends in a water front home directly across from Macinaw Island in Cheboygan Michigan where I fell in love with a lovely woman who later left me in fear of intense commitment (she's still unhappily alone and afraid). Wow . . . what a gorgeous area; the water so clear and pristine, it was a majestic trip, something everyone should behold.
I have a friend who became schizophrenic at age 25, a straight A student who like your friend, lives in a low-income apartment on social security. The more I read from you I realize, We really do have a lot in common. Great writing and emotional post! Your new template looks fantastic
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Thanks Bobby! I like the new template too--and like how I tweaked it with my new header.
Schizophrenia is a terrible illness. My aunt on my mother's side developed schizophrenia when she was about Lisa and your friend's age--and her life was destroyed by it. And of course, this was long before they had the treatments they do today. My aunt (unfortunately) was treated with electric shock treatments which destroyed her as much as the illness did.
Melinda
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It looks great around here -- the new look is very clean and bright.
I imagine that your hitchhiking trip has given you some interesting stories -- and even more to feel grateful about!. Lisa's story makes me think about the randomness of mental illness (even with a genetic component). Most of us have a lot to be grateful for, and sometimes it is the contrast of a friend's life that brings clarity. Very little is fair in this world.
Jennifer
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Hi Jennifer,
Thanks for the comments on the new look--I'm still getting used to it but I like the new header a lot.
Yes, the hitchhiking trip is full of some interesting stories--although I have quite a few in my life so I have had to edit out all but the most interesting!
Even with the genetic component--mental illness is still rather random, I believe. I believe there are two related issues--a genetic predisposition and a environmental trigger. Lisa and I did LSD several times together when we were young and I have always wondered if that might have been the environmental trigger--there is definitely some evidence that this could be so.
Thanks for stopping by!
Melinda
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Great post Melinda
Being grateful for our blessings is vital.
I focus on two ideas...one is never to have regrets because everything we do in life carves the way to our current place (even the minor details). The times Im not happy with where it has taken me I get to enjoy the challenge of fixing it. Win win
Two, living life to its fullest is also a very good idea! From a very young age I decided my focus in life was to wind up with enough stories to entertain my grand-children. In my (young) naievity I didnt factor in the often ones stories arent fit for children but I think the theory is still good
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A Hot Bath,
I love both of your ideas and feel they have so much merit!
I used to have a lot of regrets--in fact, it would eat me up constantly. Then, over time, I realized how useless regret really is and I decided to focus on trying to live my life in a way that I would not have them.
And I think I have enough stories for about ten lifetimes!
Thanks for stopping by--
Melinda
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