There's a little kid that couldn't be saved from a predator that he never knew. There was a little kid who didn't know what to do. There was a little kid who did know who to tell. There was a little kid who didn't know he could tell. There was a little kid who's innocence was lost. There was a little kid who grew up to be a man, but that little kid remains hidden inside. There is a grown man suffering from the pain of a little kid. There is a grown man who's supposed to be strong, who's supposed to be the example, the father, a significant other, a brother and friend. There's a grown man who can't let go of 37 years of hiding this little kid inside. There's a grown man who wants to protect this little kid, but it's too late, the damage is done, the innocence was gone, the trust broken, the emotions hardened and mind now suffering from an illness he can't control. There's a little kid inside a grown man who's no longer in control of his thoughts and emotions. There's a little kid inside a grown man that was traumatized by an adult he should have been able to trust. There's a little kid inside a grown man who's scared to leave, scared to trust and terrified of what this grown man may do to try and end the thoughts that dominate his mind.

When your mind isn't right, your thoughts are not right.  I don't completely understand mental illness that means I don't completely understand my own thoughts.  That leads me to a place of having to control my actions with medications and a lot of self-control.  At times, like many I don't know if I will make it through, at times like many I don't know why.  Do I suffer from mental illness because of past childhood trauma or do I suffer from mental illness because of some chemical imbalance in my brain that has always been there?  I struggle with those two questions every day, I struggle to find the answers to questions perhaps no one has the answers too.  I think about them so much I don't want to think about them anymore, but how to do that?  The only way a person with mental illness knows how to do that is by suicide.  Suicide will end the "nagging" thoughts, the lack of answers to the questions that won't go away, the pain of whatever is haunting you and the never-ending reminders that you in some way are not "normal".  If you're reading this and suffer from mental illness, in no way am I trying to encourage suicide as a means to rid yourself of the pain and suffering.  I know it may read that way, but the truth is no one knows the struggle we are going through so only those of us with this illness will understand what I am saying about suicide and self-harm.  And even those who do understand may not agree.
Peace.




Get Help.
Depression is real, it's not you being "sad" or your friend or family member feeling sorry for themselves. It's not a weakness or a character flaw. It's not a cry for attention or a way to escape. Depression is an illness that if not addressed could lead to uncharacteristic behaviors such as self-harm, self-sabotage, isolation and of course death. If you think for even a second you struggle with Depression in any form or any other mental health issue doesn't waste time trying to "heal" yourself, don't try and go it alone, reach out for help. Seeking help will be the most difficult thing you'll do in your life but, it will be the most rewarding thing you can do for yourself. Sometimes you have to be selfish, sometimes you simply can't put other people, family or friends in front of your well being.
Why am I saying all this? Because in seeking the help you need there are going to be treatments and medications that you may not think are the right treatments or medications for you. What? Then why seek out those particular treatments? Because you never know what's going to work and what's not. The stigma associated with phycological medications and treatments would lead you to believe if you're taking them you're crazy or you've now been classified or stigmatized as some mentally weak individual who can't handle the "realities of life". That's why I say, "Fvck Your Stigma" cause for far too long people have been "nice" in their approach to ending the stigma associated with Mental Illness and Mental Health. I'm not here for that. I'm not here to be nice about telling you how full of sh*t you are or how ignorant you are because you choose to be that way. I'm here to tell you I'm going through some very deep, personal, hurtful trauma manifesting itself as Bi-Polar Depression and Suicidal Ideation. I'm here to find a healing, a healing 30 some odd years later I didn't know I needed.
I'm not here to say, "stop it" or "that's not nice" or "that's not true" when it comes to mental health. I'll leave that to the NAMI's of the world and groups like that who are more tactful in their approach.
Speaking of treatments you may be approached with ones you don't agree with, I have one of my own. ECT or Electroconvulsive Therapy. Shock Therapy. When I was first approached with the idea of doing it, I was like "oh, hell no!" Caught up in stigma, but for good reason right? You've all seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. No way I wanted to get shocked to shit like the movie. Regardless of my stigma, regardless of the potential side effects including memory loss I decided to do it, to seek a treatment I was only aware of through movies. I've had 28 ECT treatments so far and I'll tell you, I don't feel any different better or worse. My level of depression is the same as it was when I started, my feelings of sadness and memories of trauma are as present as ever. The 5 different medications I'm taking in conjunction with ECT are seemingly ineffective. I've attached this interview I did with my brother Seb El talking about Depression and Hip Hop on his radio show because after talking to him last night he reminded me we did this interview. In other words, I have no memory of doing the interview, which is sad seeing as the interview is only a few weeks old.
Why am I telling you all of this? Because sometimes you have to put people's opinions to the side and do what you think is best for you. That doesn't mean you'll always be right, I think in the case of ECT I was wrong and should have listened to people around me. I am fearful of this memory loss, they say it only affects short term memory but when then does short term start and end? I'm beginning to not remember things from years ago as well as things from weeks ago. Listen, I don't know that there is a blueprint for managing depression or mental illness, there isn't one that I have found for mine. But, I will say this if you don't seek the help you deserve from the people who you say are your family and close friends, then you'll never know. Seeking medical attention, psychological help and therapy are important, they don't work right away and depending on your situation I understand it could take years to even scratch the surface of what is wrong. I guess it's better than suicide or other forms of self-harm. I don't know, I just know I'm still struggling with my illness and each and every day is a struggle. I'm trying real hard Ringo to put up the good fight, to reel in my emotions and deal with my trauma. It's not easy for me and it won't be easy for you, but for YOU is why you have to do it.
Peace. 

Peace.
Jrock FGBC



                  These are the words that I manifest.

 “I don’t want to live no more, sometimes I hear death      knocking at my front door.”

You may never understand, you may think to yourselves a person with mental illness is simply weak minded or has no real grasp on reality and perhaps is crying out for attention he or she never got. You might think mental illness is not real, you may feel it's something made up in the minds of those people who can’t make it in the real world. You may not have an opinion, maybe you never had to think about it, maybe no one around you talked to you about their illness, and I guarantee you know someone who has a mental health problem. The thing about it is we ignore the signs or we don’t know what to look for. On the outside, everything appears to be normal but on the inside is utter turmoil.
In my case, I was around a lot of people who had no idea what I was feeling inside. But I'm here to tell you it’s real, every day I struggle with thoughts of suicide and I don't know if it’s because I want to die or if it’s some s ort of chemical imbalance that’s got me all twisted. Either way, it goes to live with mental illness is the among most difficult things I’ve had to deal with in life, and I’ve dealt with allot of shit. I am coming up on my last few ECT (Electroconvulsive Therapy) so I am curious as to how I’ll feel when that is over. My guess is I will feel the same because right now I feel no different.
I have tried to be as open and honest about this as I can, some of you I know don’t want to read it or listen to what I have to say and that is either because what I say hits too close to home or you don't give a fuck, or your just an asshole. It doesn't make me no never mind, I don't care if you read this or not, I don’t care if you “unfriend” on social media because quite frankly I am doing this for me. See as you are reading this I want to commit suicide, I want to die. Not because I don't have people that love me or children that need me, not because I have no job or hobbies or friends from all walks of life. Not because I'm struggling financially or because our world has just been turned upside down. Not because I don’t have faith in that higher power called by many names. But because I am sick, I am ill like a patient with cancer or leukemia you might not think so because you can’t see it and I get that. But the fact is I am sick and it started over 30 years ago.
When I was about 6 or 7 (around that age) I lived with my mom in Anaheim at an apartment complex call Brookhurst Village. I remember cause that was the first place I experienced racism not from adults but from older kids probably teen agers. My mom was just starting her nursing career and she used to have to go to work at like 6 am and I had to go to a babysitters house a couple doors down. So my mom would leave and I would walk over to this person house. I remember always walking into a dark house where the only light was the TV it was always the new or something I didn't want to watch and I was always scared to change or ask to change the channel. The lady who was supposed to be watching me was hardly ever seen, I would see her when she opened the door in the morning and when she left to work. I remember not eating breakfast but being hungry, too scared to ask for food, I remember just sitting there in the corner of the couch waiting for the sun to come up so I knew it was almost time to walk to school. I couldn't wait for the sun to come up, I think that is why today I love the morning sun.
I remember she would leave for work just before the sun came up, just before I knew it was time to go to school. When she left I was alone with a kid around 10 or so and an adult male. I didn't know who the adult male was either her older son or her husband or boyfriend I assume I don't know. Maybe a few minutes or so after she left the older man would bring me back into a room and molest and rape me. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember him telling me to “shut the fuck up” I remember him saying, “ don’t scream nigger” I remember him pulling down his pants and forcing himself on me. This went on for several weeks, maybe months I don't know after a while I blocked it out and went to a dream world. I remember while this was happening to me I would picture myself in some Star Wars world safe and on an adventure. Once it was over he would threaten me if I told anyone, I remember going back into the living room sometimes unable to sit down crying wondering why no one was there to save me. Wondering why my mom would leave me alone with these types of people. Wondering where the men in my family where, where are my dad, my big cousins, my uncles, wondering where my babysitter was. I was alone, I was helpless, for all intense and purposes I was a baby.
Everyday mom my left and I knew I had to walk around that corner and knock on that door I began to know exactly what was going to happen. I would immediately go into a dreamland, I was on Tatooine drinking blue milk when it was over I was back on the corner of the couch watching the news. I was numb I felt nothing, I no emotion, it was at that point I began to develop an exterior that wouldn't allow people in and if they did it was only on a superficial level and it's that way today. After what seems like years of being molested and raped, in reality, it was probably only a few weeks or a month. I stopped going there. I went one last time and this time the man was laying on the floor in the living room watching TV. I remember picking up a baseball from the floor and standing over his head and dropping the baseball on his eye. I walked out and never went back. I would leave in the morning like I did every day when my mom went to work and walk over to the apartment sit at the bottom of the stairs until I knew my mom was gone. I would then walk back home and jump over the balcony and hide there until the sun came up. Once I felt it was almost time to go to school I would jump the fence and walk to school. I did this all year until I moved with my grandmother.
I think this contributes to my thoughts of suicide, to my Bipolar Depression, to the fact I don’t have close friends, to the fact that each woman I have been with throughout my life I’ve sabotaged the relationship. I think that’s why I don't trust my parents like I should, not that it's their fault but I feel or felt abandoned. I think about that every day at some point in the day that trauma will replay itself over and over again. That is why I was ok with doing shock therapy because I was hoping it would literally shock those memories from my mind. But in the back of my mind, I knew that wasn’t how it worked. But it was worth a shot.
Well there you have it, that is my story, that is where my mental illness comes from, that is where my thoughts of suicide come from. They come from no longer wanting to replay molestation and rape over and over again in my head. Better off dead.

Jarrett “Jrock FGBC” Murrell

Theory or reality?
The thing about suicide is if you don't do it right the first time, you have to live with it the rest of your life.  You have to accept the fact that you didn't complete even the most heinous of acts.  That you couldn't achieve the one goal you had for the year, that you failed at dying. Now you're left with a sense of despair like no other, I think sometimes people will even look at you like you have failed once they find out about your suicide attempt.   
No one knows exactly why someone decides to take their own life, in my opinion, it's all speculation and theory.  The only one who knows why is the person committing the act, and I believe not even that person knows why.  That said, it's hard to talk to people about the illness that you suffer from, cause it's not like everyone can relate.  We have all been ill with the Flu or a stomach bug but, we all haven't had mental health issues that caused our illness.
It boggles my mind how I can go from seemingly "ok" to sitting atop a five-story parking structure ready to end my own life.   Not only do I think about it every day but, I am reminded of with every ECT treatment and every therapy appointment.  I want to talk about what I think are the "why's" but, I haven't garnered the strength to discuss in public or even in therapy for that matter the details of my "why theories."
I give myself until my 44th birthday(7/31) to gather enough strength to finally exercise these demons in hopes of gaining clarity and some sense of accomplishment. 

Jarrett "Jrock FGBC" Murrell

“No true freedom of man is possible without knowledge of the ultimate reality”
-Sri Yukteswar
Watch, Listen, Think, Reflect, Talk.
It's not like my life is in shambles, it's not as though I have little to be grateful for. It's not like I don't have a loving girlfriend, it's not like I don't have beautiful children and it's it like I don't have extracurricular activities that I enjoy. It's not like I don't have a good job, with good pay and excellent benefits. It's not like I don't have friendships in all walks of life, it's also not like I don't have an outlet in which I am able to "blow
off a little steam." For all intense and purposes I live a pretty good life, at least one that I am happy with and proud of. 
So then why the depression? Why the anxiety and most important with the suicidal thoughts, why the attempt?  See that's the irony of Mental Illness, you can have all the things I just mentioned and more, yet still suffer from a manic depressive disorder, general anxiety, psychosis, bipolar disorder or any number of mental illnesses.  See, no one is exempt from this, no one can predict whether or not you will be stricken with such an illness, and at first, you won't even treat it as an illness. At first, you'll say to yourself, "tomorrow will be a better day."  Then people around you will say, "don't worry it will pass." Then after a while, your feelings become callous, you begin to be irritable and what's inside is now made manifest on the outside. 
At this point you have a choice, to hide your feelings and act upon the feelings of self-harm OR admit the problem and seek help. Coming from the standpoint of someone who acted on all three, I wish I would have done the smart thing and listened to my doctor and not listened to society and sought help upon being diagnosed four years ago.  But, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, so I took the hard way to recovery, the same hard way I have taken all my life. The same roundabout road that leads you to your rightful place, but takes you the longest possible route.

Peace.
Jrock FGBC


A Mental Health Campaign