First responders, two women, two men, two cars, in my drive way, surrounding me, inquiring about for my well-being, at my daughter’s request.
Thirty minutes earlier, my adult daughter, from thousands of miles away, made the call for a welfare check. During our FaceTime chat, there was a cry for help, I admit, but was no way an expression of a plan to end things or do any harm. It was just that I’d had a few harsh days of self-care and care-giving and housekeeping and self-pity that stretched me ridiculously beyond capacity. In no uncertain terms what she heard, was that I was dangerously close to the edge. She took it seriously and told me she was making the call to my mental health provider. And she did.
-It just so happens, that welfare check was well timed. First, it sent people I didn’t already know, directly to me, with a list of resources (I rejected), and a very important other connection shortly thereafter. In other words, the Word became flesh.. before my eyes. A small battalion of angels unaware.
It was an interesting yet serious interaction. They left no stone unturned in discerning my true state of mind plus my blood pressure. Standing in my driveway. No knives were pulled. No shots were fired. It was kind of fun. They made me smile. I was proud of my daughter and I was proud of them.
There’s always social commentary about "these [pandemic] times,” but do we truly realize the high stakes of living day-to-day during in a fucking pandemic? Until this happened to/for me, I hadn’t realized it is rougher than I thought to be a part of this for real shit of disorder. My daughter in PhD student mode, is a mandated reporter, but... she’s also... my child. My kid. My indigo. Her actions were justifiable and viable. Purely an act of love. After the fact, she told me she was not willing to take any chances with my life.
What happened next, though, was totally odd, when I think back on it..
I let it all out. My anger, my fears. There was no judgement. There were no threats. I felt understood so, I talked my ass off. -Like I was in therapy or something. No dash or body cam, the cop told me, so there was trust. If he was being truthful about that.. Him plus the social worker and two paramedics, well trained pros for the wondrous diversity that is mental health encounters on these public ass streets.
Unfortunately, not everyone in distress can or will get a wellness or welfare check before something tragic happens to them.
Chelsie Kryst: Her beauty, her poise, her awards, her titles, her degrees, her great causes, her NYC condo, and EXTRAs didn’t mean total happiness for her. Something bigger had her afraid to press on. I know that God was with her from her earliest stages of her mental distress to the final moment. Laying down with her in that final moment. The ultimate purpose of God the IAM.
To her family and friends, and fans.. God blessed us with her, and God bless each one of you for the reverence of your love and relationship with her. This is my way of grieving with you. I sort of sing like Billie Holiday (in my dreams). I hope she and Chelsie don't mind.
If you are struggling with suicidal thoughts or are experiencing a mental health crisis and live in the USA, you are not alone. Before you do the irreversible, self advocate. So worth the effort to try and live through the pain.
The U.S. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is: 800 - 273 - 8255, Veterans press 1. Or just dial 9-1-1.
The International Suicide Hotlines are found here: https://www.opencounseling.com/suicide-hotlines
If you know someone who is struggling with suicidal thoughts or are experiencing or expressing a mental health crisis and live on this planet, don’t ask permission to do something about it. There is no stigma NO MORE.
Anyone can teach you about love.
I can make you good at it.
| Video & Prose by Jackie D. Rockwell | SpiritJewels Media |All Rights Reserved © 2008-2022 |