FIND YOUR REASON

It's been a while since it's been this bad. I couldn't stop crying. What's wrong? I don't know. That may not be acceptable but it's the truth. The phrase it's ok to not be ok may be true, but the fact of the matter is not being ok is a pain in the....but I've been doing good though. At least I feel that way. I've been going to therapy...maybe I shouldn't have been joking about it like I do, but it's how I get through a day sometimes. I joke around with a lot of things that I probably shouldn't. Again though I don't really know what triggered this crying spell this time. I've been crying publicly since school. Weather it's from embarrassment or getting made fun of which happened often.

I try not to live in the past, it's the reliving part that I have trouble with. Dad transitioned back in January of 2022, and I still dream of him often. It's always back in the apartments I grew up in that was known as the Landing. I can't recall anything traumatic happening there or anything, but for some strange reason my mind goes back to that point in my life.

The one thing I don't want to be is a distraction. Sorry if I ever was one to anybody. As I was crying I heard in my head, Get over it, be made whole. Don't you think I want to be whole? You think being like this is that path I wanted to take? Like I got a degree in depression and anxiety as a choice. This is just me typing things out. I understand people don't read the blogs anymore because they feel it may be my last one, but I do appreciate those that stick around and read them. 

FYI, I would never post my last letter online because I'd be too interested to see the response....just being real. So to put people at ease this is not a suicide letter. This is just me spilling what's in my head. I got a big head, so trust there's a lot in there. Speaking of suicide, those that have read these, know that I have suicidal thoughts. Before I came home from work one of my co-workers said it out bluntly, "Don't kill yourself." I got a hug from a supervisor and another co-worker. I went back to my station to get my stuff and one of the students gave me a hug and asked to pray with me. 

To use the quote I used last post, "I wish you what I have, people around who care." Yet, and yet, if we don't care for ourselves, then it may say it doesn't matter if anybody cares or not. Think of some of the suicides we've publicly heard about. Robin Williams was married with kids and was loved and adored by millions. Twitch was married with kids and was also adored and loved by a lot of people, but to both of them, that wasn't enough motivation to keep going. Charity starts at home. Love should start at home. If you can't love yourself....if you can't take care of your self....how do you expect to even attempt to take care of others or love others? Truly. 

This post was all over the place, but this is my way. Your way may be something different, but I urge you to find a way. Find your motivation to keep going. There's a reason to keep going. You just got to find your reason. Not saying it's easy, or that it's gonna be easy, but I'm saying is that that reason is out there, you just got to go get it. Peace and Love

Stay Saved,

Daniel Richerson

MY 2022 YEAR END REVIEW....

It's the end of the year. 2022 as a whole has been a memorable year. Definitely a year I won't forget.

2022 started out for me with getting the virus so I was out of work even longer than the winter break. Dad was back and forth to the hospital, and was getting calls on what to do, which I was not comfortable or ready for. Then got booked for a flight to go to Kentucky to visit Dad. I think I've started this before but I wanted to make him laugh at least one more time. Plane landed, my cousin told me he passed on. Had no reaction.

Fast forward, I'm back home from Kentucky and went back to work having emotional breakdown after breakdown. Come to find out the students really cared about me...more on that later, but the break downs kept happening. After the whole thing with my Dad, I had a hard time dealing with it. Thoughts of jumping off the building, holding two fingers to my head like a gun...I was not in a good state of mind, even through the laughing and joking with my co workers and students. 

During all that, one day through the help of my pastor my therapy journey started. I had no idea that there was even a mental health center locally where I was. I ended up getting diagnosed with depression, PTSD, and grief. All which I knew I was dealing with, but never diagnosed by a professional. Got put on my first antidepressant. All my lift I thought being on antidepressants was a bad thing, but that along with therapy, has been a great help. The thoughts didn't cease completely, but they slowed down a lot. 

Fast forward again, I begin having breathing problems. I begin struggling to walk certain distances. From my car to getting to the door at my job was a struggle. I stopped taking my blood pressure and other meds because I felt good, at least good enough to stop taking the medicine. Boy was I wrong. One Sunday, first Sunday in October, I was at church setting up everything up and I couldn't breathe. I called my mom who was on her way to church and told her that I couldn't breathe. She told me to call 911. I did. Ended up sitting on the porch with a bottle of water. This was a nightmare come to life. In my mind, this was finally it. I got on the ambulance with an oxygen mask on, but I couldn't get comfortable. Next thing I know, it was Monday night, I was in ICU, and I was strapped to a bed. I looked to my right, and I saw my mom and Pastor talking. Ended up spending the rest of the week in the hospital. Remember when I said about the students. One of my co workers told my little sister who was with me at the hospital, that he had a card for me. Little did I know this card, was actually a huge poster with a bunch of signatures that I later found out was curated by the students. I work at a college. I had no idea that they cared that much. You just never know the impact you have.

Went back to work and it was all sunshine and rainbows! Just kidding. The breakdowns kept happening, but this time though, my coworkers would tell me to go outside to get some air and then come back. I've been sticking to my medicine regime. I'm now on two antidepressants. Therapy is still going. When people ask me if there's anything I need just ask. Sad thing about that is that I never know what or how to say what I may need....

So that's how my 2022 went. Song writer said, "So if you see me cry, it's just a sign that I'm still alive. May have some scars, but I'm still alive. In spite of calamity, He still has a plan for me, and it's working for my good. It's building my testimony." See you next year. Peace, Love, and

Stay Saved,

Daniel Richerson

Facebook

Instagram

Twitter

Snapchat (big_dusty)

THE QUESTION FOR THIS PIECE IS WHY?

I was asked a question that had and still has my mind working. The question was, "Why are we depressed?" One thing I haven't really thought about. I've been writing on my mental health for years but never really wrote about the why. I can go back as when I was a kid and I would bite my hand when I got mad. That lasted for years. It literally left a spot on my right hand knuckle. I can remember when I was going for finical aid at Greenville Tech, and the lady saw my hand, and the look on her face was one of shock and I would imagine she was a bit disturbed.

You got to remember now the talk of mental health awareness was not even a conversation then. So me biting my hand was just me "showing out" and not a sign of self harm.

Why are we depressed? Could be a lot of things. Could be that there's a hole in our life that we can't seem to fill. I know with me it's a lot of reasons. Never had closure with my dad. Dad passed on in January, and I'm still having a hard time. It was weird not receiving a gift card from him on my birthday. It was weird not getting a phone call from him while in the hospital. The previous two times I was in the hospital, he would call just about every day. To not get a text rom him on Thanksgiving, and not receiving a text from him on Christmas it's just not going to feel right. My heart grieves for those who have lost any parent.

Why are we depressed? Could be impatience. Patience is a virtue, right? We're waiting for relationships. We're waiting for money. We're waiting for all these things, but either they're not coming quick enough or we're not looking. The depression could be solvable if we learn the value of waiting. With impatience comes doubt. Doubt that the things we're looking for will come. Doubt will maybe blind us to what's literally right under our nose so to speak because we're looking for the answer in certain way. Remember in the Bible they were looking for Jesus to show up in a spectacular fashion. He showed up on a donkey. So do you really want what you're looking for or do you want what you're looking for to show up how you want it? We say, "He may not come when you want him, but He'll show up on time." Maybe He has shown up already, but doubt has blinded us to such a depression that we can't even see that the answer is here already.

Why are we depressed? Lonely. Like Al Green said, "I'm so tired of being alone. I'm so tired on my own." We want to have that person that we can talk to. We want to have that person that will understand what we deal with but still want to have a relationship with us. We just want to be understood in a world that chooses not to understand mental health. A lot of us go to church with leaders who choose not to understand that high anxiety that we deal with so we go home and feel alone. We've come such a long way with the conversation of mental health, but I feel that we still have a long way to go. I can remember at a leadership meeting and I was sitting with my dad in the back. One of the leaders walked by dad and said, "We're not discussing the real issues." I'm not saying that was mental health related, but we as a whole have been running from the real issues that have to be discussed, and wonder why we can't move forward in anything. Naturally or spiritually.

Why are we depressed? I don't know, and that's ok.

That's all I have for this. If you've read this far, please leave your thoughts and comments. I'm still in therapy and anti-depressants. I still have my emotional break downs here and there, but I'm doing much better. I'm taking all my medicines like I'm supposed to. I'm doing my best with the new food plan, but it's not easy. I appreciate all that really love and really care. Peace. Love.

Stay Saved,

Daniel Richerson
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Snapchat (Big_Dusty)

If you need to reach me to talk about anything, get at me on my socials. I'm here. I care.

JUST SAYING THANK YOU

How do I start? First I got to say thank you. Thank you God. Thanks to all for the thoughts and prayers. Got to publicly thank my Mom and little sister for going above and beyond. Thanks to all that have helped and offered help. Thank you Lander University. I'm forever grateful for the outpour of love from everybody.

Ok, this may be the part where I lose some of you. Those that's been following the blogs, know that I can go from A to E skipping all the letters in between. Here it goes, I mentioned having a little anxiety, and got a reaction to it. (Blank Look At the Camera) Let me explain. "Daniel make sure you do this, Daniel make sure you do this. Daniel have you done this. Daniel have you done this. Daniel make sure you take your medicine. Daniel...Daniel...Daniel...DANIEL!!" I had to keep telling myself you can do this. You can stick to the plan this time, even though you have fallen off. I had to tell myself that I'm not stupid. I had to tell myself to breathe and just follow the plan. I had to tell myself that I know I don't want to go through this again. I know what I went through. The scary part was living alone. The scary part is that the high anxiety, PTSD, and grief is still there and I got all that. The scary part is that I still got therapy appointments. I post about my therapy appointments because I thought that people cared about mental health. Sometimes it feels like when America "came together" after 9/11, when in reality, that "come together" barely lasted a week.

Not saying people don't care it's just I tend to overthink things. Like when I was in the hospital for this and hopefully last go around I was told that I was going to get an ultrasound. I was moved from the hospital bed I was on and got moved to a transport bed. Stayed there for about an hour. I've openly talked about my trust issues, and this is very apparent with hospitals. So I was staying there, these words came out my mouth, "It's almost like they don't even want me to leave." That was a real thought I had at the time because flashbacks came from 2013 when I was in the hospital and I had just got discharged, and was left sitting in a wheel chair for what felt like forever waiting for somebody from transport to transfer me out, I was left feeling unwanted. I had tears in my eyes. Mom ended up coming up to get me and wheel me out. This was at the same hospital. Now at that time I didn't have any therapy, I definitely needed it. I wasn't on any antidepressants. I wasn't working. Fast forward, 9 years later, I'm working. I'm seeking therapy. I'm on antidepressants.

Even before the scare at the hospital, this verse has been ringing in my soul.. Galatians 6:9 in the KJV, "And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not." Cause I was at my job working hard. I was in church working hard. I was working myself into a downward spiral. My therapist has been telling me that I have to make decisions that are best for me, but my bank account was letting me know, "(Dude) you better get that money." Then I kept hearing Anthony Williams formally known as Tonex's song called God Has Not 4Got, and in this song, he adlibbed, "Be not weary in well doing..." I thought I was catching a stride. Before I went to the hospital, I had a Dr's appointment set up to get caught up on my medicine, and then next thing I know I'm on the Ambulance, by the way shout outs to the EMTs.

So yeah with all that happening, I have no idea why I had to remind myself...

I ask before you comment on this blog that you've read the whole thing. This is something that I had to get out my brain. Again I thank all of you for the calls, prayers, texts, and so forth. Special shout out to my Mom and little sister once again. Special shout out to all the Pastors. Shout outs to Lander University. I hope I didn't say anything that was considered a shot or anything. That was not my intention. Continue to pray for me as I start this journey again. Mental Health matters. Peace and love and--

Stay Saved,

Daniel Richerson 

I'M IN THERAPY (mental health update)

I've been trying to find the words to say. I've stated before sometimes finding the words to put together that make sense to the people reading this is not the easiest thing in the world. I'm very easily distracted, go figure. I've been very open about the mental issues I've been dealing with for most of my life, but the past couple of years I've been very transparent about it. Not that I would suggest being open publicly like I am, but I do suggest finding a way to get those crazy thoughts out of your head. I made a couple of posts about the cries of the silent. Well around last month I went to a local Mental Health Center. I'm now in therapy, and I'm also on medication. 

I want to thank everyone that has been supportive on this journey. I want to thank all of those for the prayers and positive thoughts during this whole ordeal. I've needed help for a long time, but if you want it, there's help out there. Getting help doesn't make you less than a man. It's crazy that if you are a male and you openly admit to not being ok, you automatically get labeled as "feminine." So that male pride takes over, and the inner issues never really get dealt with in a healthy way. So then the cries become silent. Silent because they're not allowed to cry out loud without being ridiculed.

"Why are you so angry?"

"You're sensitive."

"Why are you like this?"

The same people that will tell you to "man up" will question why are you "acting out." We wonder why the younger generation is so confused. I'm fortunate enough that people around me not only understand or starting to understand my anxiety, but pushed me in the right direction to get the help that I need. Through my bleeding and crying through my blogs, and other posts, I'm now getting the help that I need. Am I going to be whole over night? No. Just recently I had an anxiety attack. I can't speak for other people but having an anxiety attack sucks to begin with, but having one with people around sucks more and it can be embarrassing. Especially when some of the people don't understand what's going on. That's the scary part actually you start to think what if...but again fortunately for me the panic attacks I've had this year, people have been around me that understood. I'm not saying they understand completely, but they understood enough. 

It's ok to not be ok, but don't stay not ok. Continue to cry. Continue to bleed. Someone is listening. God is listening. He'll send someone by that will lead you to the help you need. Silent cries are still cries. Continue to cry out. Don't give up. I'm not telling anybody to "Get over it" because I overstand that PTSD is real, it's one of the things I deal with, so I would never tell someone to "get over it" because personally, I feel that's disrespectful, and you don't really know what someone has dealt with and are dealing with along with grief, anxiety, and depression.

This is for the those who feel that no one understands. This is for those that feel alone. This is for those who feel that they're the black sheep of the family. This is for those crying out but feel that no one hears them. 

I'm done. Took me a minute to gather my thoughts together to get something out. I hope there was something said that was good for you. I hope something was said that helped you understand what I deal with. My goal is always, if I reach just one person, I feel that I did my part. I'm just trying to erase the stigma of mental illness. We lost too many people already.

Stay saved,

Daniel Richerson

WHEN THE CRY FOR HELP IS SILENT (part 2)

 May is mental health awareness month. I've steered clear of typing blogs regarding mental health lately, because of the narrative I've seen about it lately. I've read claims that those who post about their mental health is just looking for a spotlight. Claiming they're just looking to be seen. Seeing that kind of narrative has  made me slow down with the mental health updates regarding my own, and I wasn't going to post any more about it, until--

Arlana Smith. Unfortunately her cries were not heard. In her own words, she hadn't been ok in a while even though people may have thought she was. She felt she failed at vocalizing that she needed help and that it was too late. She felt this was the only way she could have peace. How many people have we lost that have not been posted on social media? How many more do we have to lose? How many more people suffering are going to be ignored?

Again the question comes, "Why didn't they say anything?" Maybe they are. Maybe you chose to ignore the signs. We'll never know because unfortunately they felt ignored. People don't see the cries in the car before walking into work. They don't see the cries in the car before pulling up to church, then wiping your face to put on the church face. They don't see you trying to pray but it gets too overwhelming to continue so you just try to go to sleep. People don't know what they don't see so they judge what they by what they think instead of asking you, "You good?" Believe it or not, some people can actually tell if you're genuinely asking or just asking. 

As I'm typing this, I'm a little over 2 weeks away from being 35, and I've never cared less about a birthday in my life. First birthday without my Dad. Dad would usually send me a $25 gift card. Wasn't much I know, but it was something. Since January 15th, my emotions have been all over the place. I now understand more what the writer said, "It's really no goodness of my own, but it's by the grace of God that I've been kept all this time and I still have the mind to go on."

I guess this is a good spot for a mental health update, I'm sure the people that don't care or think I'm looking to be seen have hopefully clicked off by now. Really it depends on the day. Some days, I'm good. Some days, I'm holding the invisible gun to my head. Some days, I feel like I'm working hard for nothing. Especially times when I'm working and others aren't and still sustaining. Like what am I doing wrong? Why would anyone fake that? I get tired. I get lonely. When things seem to be going right, that's when the yeah but comes. Yeah but you're almost 35 and still single. Yeah, but you're almost 35 and still leaving at home. Yeah, but you caused this and that. 

I cry in silent. At times when I cry in public, I get looks. The young lady I mentioned earlier, she wrote many suicide notes before she finally gave in. Not every cry will be heard. Not every last note will be heard. She mentioned in her last post on IG, to make sure you check on your strong friends. It's mental health awareness month. Are we aware yet or are we still ignoring the cries of the silent? 

~Daniel Richerson

DAY BY DAY

"One day at a time, sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking of You
Lord give me the strength to do everyday
What I have to do
Yesterday is gone, sweet Jesus
Tomorrow may never be mine
So Lord for my sake 

Help me to take
One day at a time" ~ as sung by Mother Emily Bibby

It's been two weeks. It still doesn't seem real. I'm back at work because apparently that's supposed to help, and don't get me wrong, it is helping. When I walked back into work, they seemed really happy that I was back. When I was back at my station, the students were happy to see me back, and I was also happy to see them? Trying to put on a happy face to serve sandwiches and wraps, while trying to deal with the numbness of losing a parent, is not easy. So when I'm asked how I'm doing, I don't know. I tell people I'm taking it day by day. 

"Why doesn't Daniel call?" Because I don't know what to say. Even while writing this I'm struggling to find the words to say or the right way to put the words together that are in my head. What do you want to hear from me anyway? That I'm drained? That I'm ashamed that I wasn't further in life when this happened? That I never gave my dad a daughter in law while he was with us? That I feel more lonely that I've ever had before? That's not easy to just come out and say over the phone. Yeah I'm going to work, la di da, oh the money, but when I come home--

At the funeral, I was doing ok. I saw him in the casket. I was trying to get my tribute on the TV they had at the funeral home but I never got it to work. Just ended up playing it from my laptop. Seeing people gathered around the laptop to watch it was a sight to see. I was spending time with my great nephew. It wasn't until right before the service started, I broke. My sister was there to help me cry through it. My mom was behind us both praying. I was sitting with my brother and sister. I can't remember how long it has been since I sat with my brother and sister in a service.

I'm tired. For those that have been reading, I've been very open about my mental health the past couple of years. Dad was a supporter of the blogs. It's funny when I was heading to KY I was hoping to make him laugh again, only to find out he was gone before I even landed. I didn't say anything at the funeral. I wasn't able to. If I could hear him say, "Hey mister..." again--

I'm done.

~Daniel Richerson