Category Archives: Guest Blogger

Always Keep Fighting

By Laurena Aker

(The Always Keep Fighting—AKF—campaign inspired the #HoldOnToTheLight campaign. Here’s the story behind AKF.)

In May of 2015, Jared Padalecki, one of the lead actors on the long-running television show Supernatural, tweeted the following message to his fans:

“I am in desperate and urgent need of my family. I am so sorry to tell you this but I must head home. I need all of the love I can get right now. Please please give me a few seconds of your time and write me.” 

This public plea for help understandably alarmed Jared’s followers worldwide. Two years later in his courageous chapter in the book Family Don’t End With Blood, Jared admitted that he had hit rock bottom during a convention tour in Europe, and alone and exhausted, contemplated suicide just hours before writing that message. His chapter compassionately explains that once before when he had been crushed by feelings that “something” was wrong, he was diagnosed with clinical depression but despite naming the beast, he still didn’t fully comprehend the power his internal monster had over him. Motivated by his responsibilities and passionate work ethic, he pushed down or rationalized the desperation his mind, body and spirit were trying to communicate to him until it finally, unexpectedly overpowered him.

Jared’s confessions about his struggle with depression were not a surprise to his fans, affectionately referred to as the “Supernatural Family”.  Early in 2015, Jared launched his first “Always Keep Fighting” fundraising campaign in response to losing a dear friend to suicide on New Year’s Eve. During the campaign, Jared revealed his personal fight with anxiety and despair. He encouraged people to reject the shame associated with mental illness and to seek help to “always keep fighting” against the ravages of self-doubt and depression. Jared’s messages hit home with the fandom. The #AKF campaign sold a record number of tee shirts and raised thousands of dollars for mental illness charities. Fans even bought #AKF merchandise for people who couldn’t afford to buy items for themselves. The resonance of the campaign stunned both the actor and the fans. Jared, a fan idol and the person who brought to life a character of strength and hope on his television show, admitted a personal vulnerability to his fans and was not only fighting with them but for them. Emboldened by his example and trusting the safety of the fandom space, people who had previously hidden or ignored their own confused or unidentified pain came forward on social media and websites, to their friends and to their families. Pleas for help were immediately met with an outpouring of love and practical, real-life assistance including support groups and personal outreach intervention. #AKF became a shorthand for defying being alone or ever being defeated, and providing the strength of compassionate understanding and comradery. It was emblazoned in tattoos, art, wristbands and tea lights. It was even immortalized on the side of a building in a Supernatural episode.

Seven more #AKF campaigns followed the first, each with a different message of self-awareness and mental health. The gravity of the underlying sentiments was always emphasized but the campaigns evoked fun, Supernatural themes to lighten the delivery.  Over the next 18 months, subsequent campaigns added “Love Yourself First”, “I Am Enough” and “Family Always Has Your Back” to the mottos taken to heart by the Supernatural Family.  In February, 2016, a parallel but related “You Are Not Alone” campaign was launched by Supernatural co-stars Jensen Ackles and Misha Collins to take their concern for the wellbeing of their fans one step further. Partnering with Misha’s charity Random Acts and two other charitable groups, the pair established the “SPNFamily Crisis Support Network”, an online army of trained volunteers who could intervene in moments of crisis and help fans cope with depression, self-injury or addiction.     

“Always Keep Fighting” had started out as a fundraising t-shirt sale but it turned into an attitude engrained in the Supernatural Family’s identity. Obviously, the movement touched a massive, latent need for support of those affected by mental illnesses. The Supernatural fandom was an ideal place to launch this global dialog and microcosm of community empathy. The fandom already saw itself as a “family” based on the prevalent family themes within the show. Episodic adages such as “Have your back” and “Family don’t end with blood” reinforced this notion of family. The show’s multi-decade run also created stability, and a perceived importance and responsibility within its fandom relationships. Children grew into adults and adults passed through multiple life stages accompanied by the familiar characters of the show and the friendships and frameworks within the fandom. The actors’ and fans’ year-around interactions with each other at conventions contributed to the real life tangibility of these relationships. The show’s core lessons of hope, resilience and prevailing against insurmountable odds had also permeated the fandom’s psyche – all ideals that fed the #AKF mindset.  

From people’s own admissions, the Always Keep Fighting movement saved countless lives. Websites and social media accounts such as Carry-On Supernatural and Supernatural Survivors; and charities such as Random Acts, To Write Love on Her Arms, and IMAlive continue to spread Jared’s, Jensen’s and Misha’s messages of hope and survival.  Hopefully, #AKF’s beacon of light helps shatter the stigma of secrecy and shame surrounding mental illness.

 

Laurena Aker is an independent author and editor. Since 2014 she has been the Managing Editor for The Winchester Family Business, the largest review website for the TV show Supernatural.  Her first book, Fan Phenomena: The Twilight Saga (2016) is a fun, informative combination of behind-the-scenes interviews and expert analysis of Twilight’s decade-long impact on literature, music, the entertainment industry and opportunities for women. Her Supernatural publications include a chapter in the best-selling book Family Don’t End With Blood, over 200 feature articles, weekly reviews for TV Fanatic, and the paper “Sparking and Sustaining Superfandoms: Similarities in The Twilight Saga and Supernatural Success Stories”. Prior to embarking on her writing career, Laurena was a Principal with Accenture, a leading global management and technology consulting firm.

 

The Winchester Family Business’ #AKF Related Articles:  https://www.thewinchesterfamilybusiness.com/wfb-tags-list/always-keep-fighting

Supernaturalwiki history of AKF: http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/Always_Keep_Fighting

Supernaturalwiki history of YANA: http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/SPNFamily_Crisis_Support_Network

Family Don’t End with Blood: https://fangasmthebook.com/

 

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

 

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

 

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go to http://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight

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Filed under #HoldOnToTheLight, Guest Blogger

Fighting History

By Faith Hunter

I was asked years ago to participate in Hold On To the Light, a forum for writers who deal with emotional or mental issues and I never could. I’d start to write and my fingers would freeze on the keyboard and I’d develop an instant panic attack and I’d stop. I always said, “Next time I’ll do it. Next time I will be able to write the words.” This has gone on for over two years.

I’m a writer, mind you. Fiction, even emotionally charged fiction, is easy. Not this. And it’s intensely personal, so … Hard. Maybe even brutal. But if I’m going to open up, it has to be personal, right? And personal is supposed to be difficult?

Hi. I’m Faith and I have panic attacks.

The hard part wasn’t just the writing of the words. Until recently I wasn’t able to even talk about this issue in a public setting, and when I finally did, it wasn’t freeing, as I had hoped it would be. Talking about all this “weird me stuff” resulted in a rare deep depression that took weeks to lift. More recently, as I’ve mulled over my emotional and physical reactions to attempting to write about anxiety, I have begun to spot the causes and the young lifestyle and the personal history that contributed to my panic attacks. Not that any one thing made me the way I am. Not at all. In fact I think I’d have panic issues no matter how or where or when I grew up. My paternal grandmother had panic attacks, misdiagnosed in the sixties as heart problems. For forty years she took meds she likely didn’t need. She lived to 99 and never had heart problems. It was all anxiety. Dad had depression and other emotional and mental issues that he refused to treat for his entire life, because real men didn’t have emotional problems. They just pulled up their bootstraps and soldiered on, making themselves and everyone around them miserable.

And that is where my “can’t talk about it” mentality came from. Dad. For all my life I pasted a smile on my face and pushed through, even when the anxiety morphed up to suicidal ideation. Even when rare bouts of mild to moderate depression joined the anxiety. I knew they would pass. I knew that. So I didn’t deal with it. I just waited it out. Making everyone around me miserable.

Just. Like. My. Dad.

All this started at onset of adolescence, age twelve. I was the weird kid who hid from the world with my nose in books—science fiction, fantasy, and mysteries. I was bullied. Abused. My family life was falling apart in a nasty, messy divorce that still has intense repercussions 50 years later. My parents sent me to a psychiatrist who prescribed meds. They did nothing to help me, so by my teens and early twenties I self-medicated. But I also I fell in love with writing and discovered that diving into a make-believe world was the BEST way to survive the day-to-day episodes. To fight off the suicidal ideation that sometimes accompanied the panic attacks, I stayed busy. Between writing and the day job (make that night-shift job at a hospital) I was pulling 70 – 90 hour weeks to keep sane.

I didn’t sleep well. I didn’t eat well. In my thirties and forties I discovered Kava and St. John’s Wort, which helped mitigate the rare bouts of depression but did nothing for the anxiety—the heart racing, tear inducing, hide-in-my-writing because I might listen to the suicidal ideation voices in my head. I wrote. And wrote. I worked at the lab. I had success and failures. And I pushed on.

Just. Like. Dad.

Until I developed health issues that forced me to rest.

In my forties I developed weird inflammation in my hands and shoulder muscles. My joints ached. My hands stopped working. I couldn’t type. I had to wear braces when I wasn’t at the lab. I had to hire a typist to transpose my hand written novels. For years it got worse. I was falling apart and I was still overdoing.

The Kava and St. John’s Wort helped. Some. I prayed. I survived. I prayed some more. I went through menopause early and the suicidal thoughts and bouts of depression that had begun at adolescence decreased markedly. Estrogen was my enemy, it seems. My husband held my hand through all this. Decades of physical pain and fighting off suicidal thoughts. Decades of making do.

Just. Like. Dad.

In my fifties I finally told my medical doctor about my symptoms.

I stopped being like my father.

I asked for help.

Now that was freeing! Because I was worried about side effects of drugs, my doc adjusted my herbs and put me on a strict schedule of meditation / prayer, exercise, therapeutic massage, and rest. He insisted I eat right. Go to church. REST. I began to get better. The inflammation decreased. But I wasn’t well. I was still suffering. Living in a make-believe world was my only true respite. I wrote like a madwoman.

Another year went by and my doctor convinced me to try an anti-anxiety med. And—

It was amazing. The anxiety attacks just … melted away. Another doctor told me I might be allergic to corn and I got off corn products. The inflammation began to go away. I adjusted my eating habits some more and changed supplements. I found a passion that got me out of my desk chair and did not hurt my joints—whitewater paddling.

There was no magic bullet. It took changes in every aspect of my life. My husband still held my hand through all this. I am blessed to have him. To have friends who cut me some slack when I had to go off and be alone, or when I was snappy or quick tempered, or when I couldn’t deal with life stuff.

I got better. All because I stopped being like my father.

I asked for help.

Am I completely free of anxiety attacks? No. And since my cardiologist wants me off my current med, because it’s addictive, I’ll have to make new changes to my lifestyle, with the help of my general practitioner. But I am happier now. I seldom have suicidal ideation. I am at peace as much as I am able.

I stopped being like my father.

I asked for help. That is the way I have held onto the light. I asked for help. Asking for help isn’t weakness. Or foolishness. It’s brave. And it’s freeing.

Faith Hunter

http://www.faithhunter.net/

 

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

 

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

 

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go to http://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight

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Filed under #HoldOnToTheLight, Guest Blogger

Them Bones

 

A #HoldOntoTheLight Blog Post by Jeanne Adams

After my mother died, I discovered she had been abused by her dad. That revelation made sense of so many inexplicable things in my life. The knowledge was horrible and sad and illuminating.

I never met my maternal grandfather (or any of my grandparents) because I was a “late life” baby. My parents were old as Methuselah when I was born. To give you a reference point, my grandparents were born in the 1880s. Yeah, that old.

Once I knew about the abuse, it all fit. Don’t believe anyone who tells you that abuse and depression don’t have a genetic component. They do. Add in parenting and you’ve got the bones on which we build our lives.

Mama was a tough taskmaster, controlling, hard to please, hypercritical and stern. Not surprising, given how she’d been raised––a passive-aggressive, abused mom paired with an abusive dad who’d made no secret that he wanted boys, and got girls. On the other hand, my dad was a teddy bear who’d been groomed for the ministry or medicine – neither of which he took to.

Mama had enough spine for four people and dad was a few vertebrae shy of a full backbone. And them bones…well, they played a huge part in how I saw the world.

One thing I realized about the same time as I figured out the abuse thing, was that my parents were perfect for one another. Mama couldn’t have married an alpha-male type. She had obvious reason to deeply distrust a domineering “Thou Shalt Not” kind of man, and she had so much determination that a marriage with another dominant would have been unmitigated hell.

Daddy knew when to stick up for himself, but he certainly didn’t put himself forward or excel at sports. Oddly enough, he did well in his career, advancing to significant success as a Director of Libraries. But, emotionally he didn’t want to be in charge. Not really. He liked that mother was willing to tell him––couched in modest language––what to do. He liked that her strong opinions absolved him of emotional responsibility.

I wouldn’t want to marry either of them. Yikes! However, together, they had enough strength in their backbones to raise two strong-willed boys, one hellion redhead, and me. We all turned into reasonably responsible adults. A miracle!

They balanced one another and found their roles and niches. For all the flaws I perceived, it worked. The balance was precarious sometimes. When hard times hit or depression loomed, it sometimes failed. Spectacularly. But they muddled through.

My mama didn’t live to see the 21st century. She would have been amazed and appalled by iPhones and pussy hats. I was in my twenties when she died of cancer, but I realized she was incredibly brave. For an abuse survivor of that era to leave home, go to college, get married and have kids was pretty damn courageous. Her sisters didn’t manage it. She fought every day to strap down her temper and not pass on the abuse she’d suffered. Most of the time, she succeeded. Sometimes, she didn’t. As a parent of two strong-willed sons, I understand how challenging that must have been.

My takeaway, thanks to therapy, is that mama deliberately chose to flip off her father and marry a good, sweet, loving man. She chose, deliberately and with great courage, to raise her children better than she’d been raised. From the grave, her stern admonition of “do better than I did, young lady” still echoes in my ears. I listen. I try.

My mother’s life was a parable of choice shaping the person––spitting in the eye of genetics, socio-economics and “your raising”.as we Southerners put it. The bones, the foundations my parents provided, had cracks and patches but they held. They were unwavering when it counted. I hope my children will say the same. My parents changed their upbringing. The choices were imperfect, but they broke the cycle.

You can too. They improved upon the last generation. I strive for that. They weren’t abusers. They encouraged rather than belittled. They did better. You can too. Choose to live. Choose to live better. Defy the odds. Be the bones of a new foundation for the future, even if your own foundations had to be torn down and rebuilt anew with tears and courage.

I know you can. I believe in you. Go. Praise. Encourage. Build. Live.

Do better.

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go to http://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight

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Filed under #HoldOnToTheLight, Guest Blogger

Influences: The Interplay of Books, Games, Films, and Television

by Donald J. Bingle

If you follow Gail at all on social media, you know that, like me, she is a big fan of the television show Supernatural, created by Eric Kripke. My wife and I have followed Supernatural from the very first episode. Why? Because it has hot guys? No, because the first commercial I saw for it reminded me of Chill, a horror roleplaying game from the early 80s that featured a loose collective of individuals (S.A.V.E. agents/hunters) who knew the truth about supernatural creatures and hunted them down at great personal risk. In fact, we have good fun identifying the creatures the boys were up against from our knowledge of Creatures of the Unknown from the old Chill product. Woman in White? Check. Wendigo? Been there, done that. The quality of the research, the writing, the acting, and the importance of family, where family extends beyond kin, also resonated, of course, but the interplay added to the enjoyment of the series.

The company that put out Chill (Pacesetter) also put out a time travel roleplaying game called Timemaster, which we actually acquired the rights to when Pacesetter when bankrupt. So, for a while, I did a lot of reading about time travel and wrote a number of Timemaster adventures where you have to figure out what when wrong with history and go to the right place and time to do what was necessary to put the timeline back to the way it originally happened. Timemaster’s slogan under our ownership (we’ve since sold it) was “I’ve seen the future and I’m here to fix the past.” Not surprisingly, then, we were delighted when Eric Kripke created the recent (and recently cancelled) series Timeless about agents who go to the past to change it back to the way it originally occurred.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Eric stole anything from anybody or anything like that. Ideas are not protectible by the copyright laws—only the manner of expression. Beside, there have been all sorts of good guys fighting monsters dating all the way to mythology and various time corps have been protecting the timeline across dozens and dozens of books. That’s how influence, inspiration, and expansion and revision of tropes work in literature (and, yes, genre fiction is literature). Eric deserves all the credit for putting out some excellent, well-written shows (though I’ve looked at his bio and noted he played rpgs in his younger days and, given his age vs mine, like to think that maybe at some time in the past, maybe at a convention like GenCon, he played a round of Chill I played, too, or maybe a Timemaster adventure I wrote back in the day).

Every author has inspirations from their life and their exposure to books, games, films, and television. Some things they emulate; some things they turn upside down. Not all of these things are plot/story oriented. You learn about suspense, clues, pacing, comic relief, character development, misdirection, flashbacks, character quirks, action set pieces, and more from both real life and fiction. Those are simply tools for the writer to use in their craft.

Most recently, I’ve been writing spy thrillers and I’ve had all sorts of experiences to call upon in writing those stories even though I am not a spy. (Of course, that’s what a spy would say, isn’t it?) Sure, I watched James Bond and Jason Bourne movies and watched The Man from U.N.C.L.E., Burn Notice, and the early seasons of Alias on television. I’ve also read my share of spy thrillers. And I played a lot of Top Secret (an espionage based roleplaying game put out by TSR long before they were acquired by Wizards of the Coast). I even wrote a Bond spoof screenplay (pre Austin Powers) as an Ace Ventura sequel (Ace is hired to find the Queen’s dognapped pooch) and got it past Jim Carrey’s agent to his manager before the project stalled out. And, since I worked in the field of corporate finance and hostile takeovers, I had some real life experience keeping secrets, using fake names in communications, and keeping travel plans mum in order to keep arbitrageurs and other bidders from finding out was what going on prematurely.

All of those things influenced Wet Work, my most recent Dick Thornby Thriller, along with Net Impact, the first book in the series, just re-released with a spiffy new cover. Some of the influences are reversed—I didn’t want my spy to be a tuxedo-clad Bond rip-off or a loner assassin, like Jason Bourne. Some of the influences are incorporated—I always liked how Michael Westen explained bits of spycraft in the early seasons of Burn Notice, so I used a dynamic where my main character is often teaching spycraft to someone with less experience as they are forced to work the mission together. I also like the message about family from Supernatural, so made my spy a regular guy, with a wife and a kid he loves. Finally, I surf the net from time to time and find all sorts of bizarre and fantastic and sometimes scary things I like to incorporate and occasionally debunk as part of my fiction.

How far afield can influences go? Well, I’ve got an entire exchange in Wet Work inspired by a line from a Meat Loaf song which I always though would be a fitting line for Dean Winchester to say as the boys took on a battle against long odds on Supernatural. I don’t quote the line. I didn’t appropriate the line. I was inspired by it. (We’ll see if Gail can figure it out.)

I am always amused when I see the line “inspired by true events” at the beginning of a movie. Everything, everywhere, is impacted by everything you have ever done, seen, read, or imagined. Everything is inspired by everything else. And that is as it should be.

You can find out more about me on my website at www.donaldjbingle.com or on Facebook, Twitter, or Goodreads at donaldjbingle. You can find an excerpt from Wet Work: http://www.donaldjbingle.com/single-post/2018/06/20/Excerpt-from-Wet-Work. Finally, you can find my spy thrillers here:

Net Impact, Amazon: http://a.co/beSzrUf
Net Impact, Nook, bn.com: https://read.barnesandnoble.com/book/net-impact-6/coverpage-xhtml#1
Net Impact, Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/net-impact-2
Net Impact: PRINT: http://a.co/9cj2JLa
Net Impact, Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Fiction/Net-Impact-Audiobook/B00CRM1DSW?ref=a_search_c3_lProduct_1_1&pf_rd_p=e81b7c27-6880-467a-b5a7-13cef5d729fe&pf_rd_r=N65M54J30VGXDYN3TMDZ&

Wet Work, Amazon: http://a.co/1qni4lH
Wet Work, Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wet-work-donald-j-bingle/1128291702?ean=2940159029973
Wet Work, Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wet-work-5
Wet Work, PRINT: http://a.co/2il1eWS


Giveaway: Win a 25.00 gift certificate! Contest runs 7/23 thru 8/10. Rafflecopter code is below:
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Author Bio:
Donald J. Bingle is the author of six books (The Love-Haight Case Files (with Jean Rabe); Wet Work; Net Impact; GREENSWORD; Frame Shop; and Forced Conversion) and about fifty shorter stories in the science fiction, thriller, horror, fantasy, mystery, steampunk, romance, comedy, and memoir genres. He was the world’s top-ranked player of classic role-playing game tournaments for the last fifteen years of the last century. He once received a surprise package in the mail with a lapel pin thanking him for his “contributions to time travel research.” He’ll really have to get around to doing that research some day soon. He is a full member of the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, Horror Writers Association, International Thriller Writers, International Association of Media Tie-In Writers, and Origins Game Fair Library. More on Don and his writing can be found at www.donaldjbingle.com <http://www.donaldjbingle.com/>.

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Filed under Books, Gail Z. Martin, Guest Blogger

A Perspective On Pain

by Chris Shrewsbury

pain (n): physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc.

Rarely has the definition of a word so failed to capture its essence, its flavor. The above definition of “pain” is akin to describing music as a “rhythmic aural construct.”

For most of my 50+ years, pain was an occasional, but bearable, physical nuisance. The rare bump, bruise, or scratch we all accumulate through life. (This was before I’d ever stepped on a Lego block…) Of course, there are also those unseen hurts: heartbreaks, the loss of a loved one, and such. Little did I know how intimately I would come to know both types, the physical and the emotional.

Around the time our son was born, I began experiencing gradually increasing pain in my hands and feet. After a number of physician visits, I was diagnosed with a condition manifesting as progressive neurological weakness and decay. Given the rate and nature of its advance toward major organs and systems, my prognosis was terminal. I was told to expect decreasing function and escalating pain.

So in my late 30s and never having so much as a broken finger, I now had to deal with knowing the rest of my shortened life will be spent not only in constant physical pain and disability, but also the anguish of leaving behind my wife of three years and young son. Nothing prepares you for that scenario, and it’s one that I’d never wish on my worst enemy.

Please believe me when I tell you that my lows have been quite low, indeed. I have had days where I have wept the most bitter of tears, cursing God and at the same time begging Him for relief. And more often than I can say, it was only the image of my wife and son that kept me going. The loss of abilities we all take for granted, numerous hospitalizations, multiple amputations, infections, being confined to bed for months at a time. The inability to be the husband and father my family deserved. All of these and more have conspired to turn my life into the deepest and darkest of nights. (Lego blocks got nothing on this.)

Now this is the part where I’m supposed to tell you how I overcame all of these obstacles and that everything is just fine. And I really wish I could, but I’d be lying. Pain is still my close companion. The truth is that my condition is progressing, and even though I take so many pills each day that I rattle when I walk, my pain levels are high and my prognosis is unchanged. And although my time with my family may be limited, we are firmly dedicated to creating beautiful, meaningful memories and making each day count. And I have found an extremely rewarding effort in sharing my perspective (on everything from disabilities to humor and all things in-between) with others, hoping to encourage, enlighten, and entertain.

I spent quite a while thinking that life would be worthwhile if I could just escape the pain. What I’ve found is that life is what happens through the pain. Some people measure that life in years or milestones. Others may measure it in seasons or sunrises. And oftentimes there are those of us that can simply just count each breath coming in and going out. But regardless your system of measure, I sincerely hope you glimpse life’s beauty through the pain, be it of your body or in your heart. May that beauty give you strength to continue counting breaths, sunrises, and seasons.

—-

About the campaign:
#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.
Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go to http://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight

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Filed under Guest Blogger

The Other End of the Situation–A #HoldOnToTheLight guest post by Stuart Jaffe

holdontothelight-fb-banner

When I was first asked to write this blog post for #HoldOntoTheLight, I agreed without hesitation. Then I tried to write this thing. But it hurt, so I put it away. I tried again, sitting in my office, thinking, staring at the screen. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Put it away, I thought. I’ll get back to it. By the time other authors had started posting, I should have had this done. I read their blogs, saw how open and honest many of them were, but still, I couldn’t.

I finally decided that hey, I’m a writer. I should be able to do this in some form that works for me — like fiction. So I wrote a thousand-word piece about a man and a woman reaching the point where they realized they had a trauma to deal with.

And I shelved it.

See, the problem here isn’t that I’m embarrassed or ashamed or anything of the sort. The problem is that the depression I deal with on a daily basis is not mine. I don’t want to betray a trust. I don’t even know if I have to right to discuss the issues of a depression that isn’t mine.

What I can discuss, however, is what it is like to be on the other end of the situation. I can reach out to the spouses, parents, and friends of those who suffer.

Because we suffer, too.

We are just as caught in a world of silence and sadness. We are the ones making excuses for our loved one’s absence at parties, events, and family gatherings. We are the ones running interference between our loved one and the demands of the world. We take on the tasks and burdens of two. And we hurt when we see the dark place our loved one has gone to, when we reach out to help and nobody reaches back, when day after day turns to year after year and it gets harder to maintain a connection.

It’s like watching an enormous ship — a life — slowly sinking in the ocean. We want to help. We try to help. But we rarely have the ability to jump aboard and patch the holes. Even when it seems like we can succeed, those holes reopen the moment we step away.

We’re stuck watching.

I’ve been fortunate, so far. My loved one is still alive. But for many, that ship sinks. Many watch as depression ends in suicide. And regardless of what outcome we find ourselves in, we feel guilty. Because no matter what, we always think we can do more than watch. No matter how often we try, no matter how often we are rejected, no matter how many slivers of good days we cling to, in the end, we can only stand there, hold out our hands, and hope that our love will raise a hand to reach back. We can watch and wait.

And we do.

That is the thing I want those of you with depression or PTSD or any mental illness to understand. We are there for you. We are holding your hands. We want you back. So much that we’ll suffer for you, too. We don’t give up on you. Ever. So, you shouldn’t either.

Because that’s the way love works.

About the campaign:

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

 To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go to https://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight

stuart-jaffe-headshot2014About the author:

Stuart Jaffe is the author of the Nathan K fantasy-thrillers, The Max Porter Paranormal-Mysteries, The Malja Chronicles, a post-apocalyptic fantasy series, The Bluesman pulp series, the Gillian Boone novels, FoundersReal Magic and After The Crash as well as the short story collections, 10 Bits of My Brain and 10 More Bits of My Brain. Numerous other short stories have appeared in magazines and anthologies.

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One Rock at a Time–A #HoldOnToTheLight guest post by Danielle Ackley-McPhail

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In ancient times one form of execution was to pin the accused down and pile rocks on them until they died. Until they were literally crushed and the breath squeezed out of them.

This is an excellent analogy for depression. Elements of life pile on to a person until they just cannot bear up anymore. It isn’t always constant, and for each person the “rocks” are something different, heck…for the same person the “rocks” can be different each time, but the one consistent factor is the lack of control. The inability to cast those “rocks” aside or get out from under them.

It is akin to someone suffering chronic pain. You might learn to adapt, to function past the pain, but there are times it is just too much for you and no amount of “pain” killer helps. Because it is not the “pain” that is the main problem. It is the sense of hopelessness. The persistent fear that absolutely nothing will ever change to take that “pain” away. The knowledge that people or circumstance—either knowingly or unknowingly—continue to pile on those rocks until you cannot breath.

Until you have no inclination to breath. That you are certain you are a failure at the most basic function – Living.

It is irrational, but unavoidable.

I’m going to share something with you. One rock in my cairn. Something no one would ever guess about me. Something completely at odds with anyone’s perception of me. I do not want to grow old.

Let me ‘splain.

I don’t write poetry very often anymore, but here is one I wrote about five years back that lays out my meaning in implicit detail, so there is no confusion, so there is no doubt, exactly how heavy depression can be, and how hard it can be to recognize from the outside. All but one of my friends will be blindsided by this.

May I die young and quickly
That I may never know
The burden I would be, unwanted
Were I to grow so old
Alone and not what I once was
Needing another’s care
A duty…obligation, to those not e’en my own.

May I die young and quickly
At once here, then gone.
That I be remembered fondly,
Rather than endured.
Better that than linger long,
Unwanted or alone,
Marking time upon this earth until I can go home.

Now if you know me, don’t panic. I don’t believe in suicide. I would not want to cause such trauma, pain, or heartache to those I love—or even the perfect strangers—who would potentially find me or have to deal with the aftermath. I would not be one of their “rocks”. But you know, I truly do not desire a prolonged life. Because I am terrified of being that person someone else is forced to take responsibility for. Someone else’s children, or worse, a stranger overworked and underpaid. I have seen this up close and personal, and terrified may not be a strong enough term for what I feel at the thought of ending up that way.

See, I have no children. I have a loving husband and plenty of family and I have never felt unloved. I have no doubt they will rally around me if needed, but I have always felt different and not quite connected. Always on the outside. Things would be even more uncomfortable if I were to become dependent as I wouldn’t only feel out of place, but a burden. I am sure some of them might read this and be hurt, and I’m sorry if that is the case. It is not my intention. Please recall, depression is nothing if not irrational. Again, I will repeat, I do not and have never felt unloved. That is not what this is about.

Now, I don’t share this with you because I need reassurance. That isn’t what this is about and to go there would be to overlook the importance of our message. Believe it or not I have faith that God will provide for me, though I may not be able to see the how of it right now. At the risk of being repetitive, depression IS irrational. You can’t control it. I am lucky. My depression is not a constant and is mostly hormonally triggered. We only do battle occasionally, and it has a loose enough grip I need only ride through it and remind myself the hopelessness is an illusion. This isn’t true for everyone. They face the darkness every day. Sometimes it can be managed with medication, or therapy, but many people never get help. Maybe they are ashamed, or they do not have the means, or they just don’t know where to turn. Maybe they feel they should be able to handle this on their own, or that they are weak and deserve to suffer. Maybe they just feel it won’t do any good. I know…that’s a lot of maybes, but depression is a very personal thing, each experience unique to the individual. There are as many potential reasons as there are sufferers. For me, I have remained silent to all but a few because I didn’t want to make anyone feel bad, or make them uncomfortable, or maybe, if I’m honest, because I didn’t want to appear like a failure. For whatever reason way too many do battle alone until they can battle no more.

That is what this message is about. We need to increase awareness. We need to form ranks around those we care about. The most important weapons against depression is awareness and support. Understanding from friends and loved ones, not admonitions to snap out of it. Not impatience or annoyance or platitudes that do nothing to strike a blow against the darkness. Are you ready to fight?

In the TV show Firefly there is a scene where Tracey, a character who served under Malcolm Reynolds during the Unification Wars, recounts what a soldier must do to go on:

Tracey: “When you can’t run, you crawl. And when you can’t crawl, when you can’t do that … ”
Zoe: ” … you find someone to carry you.”

danielle-amMake no mistake, depression is something people do battle with every day. Let’s be a part of their support, not a part of the problem.

Danielle Ackley-McPhail is a fantasy author, editor, and publisher of eSpecBooks. Her published works include the urban fantasy, Yesterday’s Dreams, Tomorrow’s Memories, Today’s Promise, The Halfling’s Court, The Redcaps’ Queen, A Legacy of Stars, The Literary Handyman, the chapbook, Children of Morpheus, No Longer Dreams, and contributions to numerous anthologies and collections worldwide, including The Defending the Future series, The Fantasy Writer’s Companion: The Author’s Grimoire, For Better or Worse and Passings, Dark Furies, and Hear Them Roar. She is also the senior editor of the award-winning Bad-Ass Faeries series, as well as several other anthology projects.

About the campaign:

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go to https://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight

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The Ship ‘Cruelty’–a #HoldOnToTheLight post by Wendy S. Delmater

holdontothelight

The ship “Cruelty”

Leaves selfishness as its wake

It swamps your boat. Swim.

 

In 1989 I was diagnosed with chronic depression. And I had no idea I was depressed. I just thought I was sad, and lonely, and lazy.

My mother was ill most of the time I was growing up. As the eldest, I bore the brunt of the extra housework she could not handle and childcare for my sisters and brother.  My father was a teacher, who tutored in the evenings—and he got mad a lot. He drank a six-pack of beer every night,  an alcoholic who kept a steady job but terrorized his family on the emotional downswings of that addiction cycle. He’d moved us away from when I was a toddler. The move hid his addiction from family members. It isolated us.

So my mother slid further into depression. And we children were not only terrorized and abused by an active drinker but could not get what we needed from a depressed mother. I think it would have been enough to trigger depression in a healthy person.

Of course, I had no friends. When I played over another  child’s house I was expected to eventually ask them over my place. But I could not bring them home: Mom was sick and dad worked two jobs and was tired was my excuse.  We were also poor—“debt poor.” Much of that was the fault of my father’s inadequate  insurance, but even more of it was due to my parents’ overspending. Mom bough clothes to make herself “feel better,” and dad bought big-ticket items we could not afford, like new cars.         

At an early age I found I could not make my parents happy, and I could not make my peers happy. So I stopped caring what anyone thought of me.

   Shell-Shocked

You can’t do a good job

When you are constantly panicked

Always looking over your shoulder

For the next shoe to drop.

 

Shoes were dropping

The whole time you grew up

Paranoid defenses were a necessity then

But they get in your way now

And old habits die hard.

 

Constantly worried

Hyper-listening

“Did I do something wrong?

Will I be yelled at?”

Probably not,

But that’s what you’re used to.

 

The hell of it is

That you feel more at home

In abusive companies

Than in ones that treat you well.

The more unpleasant the circumstances

The better your coping skills work.

 

You can set yourself up,

Thinking you heard what you didn’t hear

Worried that the rug will be

Pulled out from under you.

(But it always has been before)

 

Emotional paraplegic—

You haven’t a leg to stand on.

 

My isolation got worse when I hit puberty. And I wonder how differently my life would have gone if I had gotten a straight answer out of the Sunday School teacher when we were studying the 10 Commandments and I asked, “What’s adultery?” She was too embarrassed to tell me. I was 12.

I was a victim of sexual abuse by a relative for three years.

You stole my smile, and

Left staggering darkness,

Then blamed me for it.

 

All of this caused me to shut down, to sleepwalk through the motions of living and be emotionally “dead.”  We lived in constant fear of my father’s temper. Dad would break things to hurt our feelings and control us. I learned not to tell my parents when I wanted something because it would get used against me. (Eventually, I learned to stop wanting things at all.)

My parents’ chaos still infiltrated my life; I managed to get away from them for a year of college, but dad lost his tutoring due to a bad economy and mom nearly died, so I came home and paid their grocery bills and nursed her back to health. I cried every September—school meant so much to me. But I was unable to get back to college for 20 years.

I was still damaged by my past, and it mostly manifested itself in my relationships. I carried this into my first marriage, where I married a man who had been raised by the daughter of two alcoholics. My ex-husband was not Darth Vader, but he taught me that the opposite of love was not hate, it was apathy.

Then my ex abandoned us. My doctor finally diagnosed depression. I  spent about seven years using Prozac, and then Zoloft, until 1996 when I finally beat depression and my body started making the correct neurotransmitters on its own. And counselor finally told me that my father dinking a six pack of beer a night was not normal. He had been an alcoholic, and I should join Al-Annon’s Adult Child program because I needed to deal with something called codependency.

I tell you all this so you will not dismiss the symptoms of depression as mere “sadness.” You or the person you love may not have been through things like this, but I want to state that the biochemical disease is the same. It’s an invisible illness, but an illness nonetheless. Just like a diabetic lacks insulin, depressed people have neurotransmitter chemicals out of whack. Telling a depressed person to cheer up is like telling a quadriplegic to stand. But you can get better, and life will go on, beautifully.

(All poems from Plant a Garden Around Your Life, by Wendy S. Delmater.) Wendy S. Delmater is the long-time editor of Abyss & Apex Magazine of Speculative Fiction. Poetry quoted is from her chapbook about dealing with depression, Plant a Garden Around Your Life.

 

 

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Turning Back to Epic Fantasy

by David B. Coe

Like Gail, I have written in several fantasy subgenres over the course of my career, most recently taking on contemporary urban fantasy (with my Case Files of Justis Fearsson trilogy) and historical urban fantasy (with the Thieftaker Chronicles, which I write as D.B. Jackson). I started out, though, writing alternate world, epic (or high) fantasy. Multi-book story arcs, set in created worlds, with lots of magic and castle intrigue, and with larger-than-life villains who threatened All That We Hold Dear. Fun stuff.

coejacksonpubpic1000I’ve recently returned to these early works. The rights to my first several series have reverted to me, leaving me free to do with them as I please. And I have chosen to reissue what I am calling the “Author’s Edits” (think Director’s Cut) of the books. For obvious reasons, I’ve started with my first series, the LonTobyn Chronicle, which I published back in the late 1990s. These books established me commercially and critically, and won me the Crawford Fantasy Award as the best new author in fantasy. They’re as close to my heart as any books I’ve written. But they were also my first efforts and they suffered from many of the flaws one finds in first novels. Hence the Author’s Edit. I haven’t changed any of the plotting, world building, or character work. But I’ve tightened the prose and eliminated unnecessary dialog tags, adverbs, and expository passages. The books now read better than they ever have.

In reading through and editing this first series, I realized that I miss writing epic fantasy. It’s not that I’ve come to dislike urban fantasy. Far from it. I believe the Fearsson and Thieftaker books represent the best writing I’ve ever done. But I had forgotten how much fun it can be to write those huge, sprawling epics on which I cut my teeth as a writing professional.

To my mind, the biggest differences between writing urban fantasy and writing epic boil down to the related issues of point of view and plotting. Urban fantasy, as I’ve approached it in my career and experienced it as a reader, tends to be more streamlined. The cast of point of view characters is usually limited to a single protagonist, or perhaps two or three narrating characters. The plotting can be twisty and intricate, but it’s also focused. Much of urban fantasy pays homage not only to its fantasy roots, but also to noir mystery. It’s not surprising then, that some of the best books in the subgenre are lean, fast-paced, and tightly constructed. As I say, I love urban for just these reasons.dcoe1

But for me, the allure of epic fantasy, both as an author and as a fan, lies in its embrace of very different attributes. My favorite epic fantasies, and all the high fantasies I’ve written, braid together many seemingly disparate storylines that coalesce as the novel and/or series progresses. By necessity, these plot threads are presented through a pantheon of point of view characters, who give the reader dfferent perspectives on the story, and bits of information that form a sort of narrative mosaic.

In some respects it’s less efficient story telling. On the other hand, when done well, epic fantasy can take on a richness and texture that make it unique among all forms of speculative fiction. I enjoy writing it because I can lead my reader through a labyrinth of plot points, hinting at key moments to come, feinting at possible paths my story might take, and telling the tale through a collection of voices, each one unique and, I hope, engaging. I can give my readers more information than any one of my characters has at his or her disposal, thus ratcheting up the tension by, for example, sending my protagonist into a trap of which my readers are aware, even though she is not.

We writers can be a fickle bunch. When I shifted from epic fantasy to urban, I did it, in part, because I was tired of writing the multi-POV, multi-plot-thread, multi-volume stories that I’d written throughout the early years of my career. I longed for that leaner voice of urban fantasy. I wanted to write stand-alone novels that more closely resembled whodunits, but with a magical twist. The Thieftaker and Fearsson books were exactly what I was after.

dcoe2Now, I find that I’m ready to turn back. Reading and editing Children of Amarid, my very first novel, as I prepared for its re-release, I found myself transported back to those days when I was writing the book without a contract, dreaming of one day becoming a published author. I had read many of the great epic fantasists of my youth: Tolkien and Donaldson, Kurtz and Kerr, McCaffrey (yes, I know — she considered herself an author of Science Fiction; I thought of it as fantasy), LeGuin, Brooks, and Eddings. Those were the authors who attracted me to this career, and when I wrote the LonTobyn Chronicle, I tried to draw upon what I saw as the finest qualities of their work. I’m not so full of myself as to claim that I succeeded with this first effort. But they were my inspirations, and fantasy, as they defined the field, was my first love.

So, now I’m back to it. I have more of my backlist to release in coming years: my five-book Winds of the Forelands series, my Blood of the Southlands trilogy. And I’m eager to try my hand at writing new epic fantasy, blending my lifelong passion for the genre with the knowledge of craft I’ve accrued during my twenty years in the business. I don’t yet know exactly what this new project will look like. But those elements of the genre that I love — magic, of course, the more wondrous the better, as well as intrigue, action, and maybe a sprinkling of romance — will all be there, along with the rich complexity that makes reading and writing high fantasy such a joy. Stay tuned!

About the Author

David B. Coe/D.B. Jackson is the award-winning author of nineteen fantasy novels. As David B. Coe, he writes The Case Files of Justis Fearsson, a contemporary urban fantasy from Baen Books. The first two books, Spell Blind and His Father’s Eyes came out in 2015. The third volume, Shadow’s Blade, has recently been released. Under the name D.B. Jackson, he writes the Thieftaker Chronicles, a historical urban fantasy from Tor Books that includes Thieftaker, Thieves’ Quarry, A Plunder of Souls, and Dead Man’s Reach.

David is also the author of the Crawford Award-winning LonTobyn Chronicle, which he is the process of reissuing, as well as the critically acclaimed Winds of the Forelands quintet and Blood of the Southlands trilogy. He wrote the novelization of Ridley Scott’s movie, Robin Hood. David’s books have been translated into a dozen languages.

He lives on the Cumberland Plateau with his wife and two daughters. They’re all smarter and prettier than he is, but they keep him around because he makes a mean vegetarian fajita. When he’s not writing he likes to hike, play guitar, and stalk the perfect image with his camera.

 

https://www.DavidBCoe.com

https://www.davidbcoe.com/blog/

https://www.dbjackson-author.com

https://www.facebook.com/david.b.coe

https://twitter.com/DavidBCoe

https://www.amazon.com/author/davidbcoe

 

 

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Jumper–A #HoldOnToTheLight post by Chris Kennedy

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I watched in horror as the girl slid between the rails of the 10th floor balcony, looking at the ground far, far below.

It was my third year of college at the University of North Carolina, and I had come back to school early after the summer break to be an orientation counsellor for the new freshman class. I had just gone to bed when one of my counselees started banging on my door. “You’ve got to help me!” the guy outside the door exclaimed when I opened it. “Sarah was drinking at one of the parties, and now she’s up on the 10th floor talking about killing herself.”

We ran up the six flights of stairs (I was in much better shape then) to find one of my other counselees forcing herself between the rails of the railing. As I raced to her, she made it the rest of the way through. I don’t know if she would have jumped or not, and looking into her eyes as her head turned back to us, I’m not sure she did either, but I could tell she was seriously contemplating it (as if being on the wrong side of the railing wasn’t giveaway enough.) It was probably the scariest moment of my life.

I grabbed her through the rails, pinning her to the railing, and after several minutes of talking convinced her to come back through to our side. While the other counselee ran to call the hospital, I talked with her to find out what drove her to step outside the rails.

She was alone at school, away from home for the first time, and her boyfriend of several years had broken up with her. She didn’t have anyone she thought she could talk to and she had several drinks at one of the parties that were being held that night. It was a bad combination, and almost a fatal one for her.

At the time, I didn’t understand why she would want to throw it all away. She was just starting college and was an attractive young lady; she would have had a number of folks interested in her. Back then, I didn’t know anything about depression…how it eats away at you from the inside, causing you to think that no one cares until you finally believe it. How the world would be better off without you. How it would be better to end it all and make the pain go away.

Having had a serious bout of depression since then, though, I do understand those things, and here’s what I know. Depression isolates you from everyone else. You don’t think that anyone else could ever understand what you’re going through. This deprives you of the one thing you need: someone to talk to. I didn’t have anyone I thought I could talk to, for a number of reasons, so I kept my problems bottled up. I could deal with them myself, I thought; better that than worrying anyone else. And that’s when the first tendrils of depression started working their way into my mind. And once they’re in, they strangle off all reason and eat you from the inside out, until you give up hope.

Alcohol is no help. As Sarah found out, it only removes that last bit of rational thought keeping you from doing something really stupid. Having seen it in action once, I knew better than to drink…even though I wanted to really badly. That kept me together, barely, until things changed a little and I found someone to talk to. Just the simple act of talking about part of my problems let me release enough of the stress to start on the way to recovery. I survived, but it was a lot closer than I liked. I heard the voices…whispering, urging…but was able to keep them at bay. I still hear them, sometimes, when things aren’t going well. Once they’re in, they never completely go away.

Not everyone is able to keep the voices at bay, though, and the only way they’re going to get better is to talk to someone. A professional, if possible, but any outlet helps. If you see a friend withdraw from society, be there for him or her; talk to them. You never know, you just may save their life.

chris-kennedyChris Kennedy is a  bestselling Science Fiction/Fantasy author and speaker, a former naval aviator and elementary school principal. Chris’ stories include the “Occupied Seattle” military fiction duology, “The Theogony” and “Codex Regius” science fiction trilogies, and the “War for Dominance” fantasy trilogy.

About the campaign:

#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression, suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.

Please consider donating to or volunteering for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Home for the Warriors (PTSD), National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health Association, MIND (UK), SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia), To Write Love On Her Arms and the National Suicide Prevention Hotline.

To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of participating authors, or reach a media contact, go to https://www.facebook.com/groups/276745236033627/.

 

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