Fvck Your Stigma

 A Mental Health Campaing 

   
If someone could show me how to “get over it” I promise I will.  If someone could remove from my mind the pain that is beginning to resurface I’ll be waiting at your door.  If someone could take from me the pain of being raped and molested at 8 years old and hiding that pain 37 years, I’d gladly give it.  If someone said they “understand” how it feels to be 44 years old with a family and suffering from a trauma that happened so long ago, I’d give them a hug and say, “I am sorry.” The fact of the matter is no-one can completely understand what is bringing me closer and closer to an abyss I may never return from.

Rape is a serious deal, molestation is a serious deal, trauma, especially as a child the odds of recovery are sometimes insurmountable.  I know because as an adult at times, often times, I don't know if I will ever recover.  I don’t know if I will ever be “normal” or if I will ever fully get over the images indebted in my subconscious mind.  I don’t know if recovery is possible because I don’t fully understand the treatment process.  Sometimes I even wonder if it is at all necessary if, in the end, all the therapy, meds and self-help is going to work.  I haven’t even begun to process the tragedy that my childhood self-faced those lonely mornings in a strange man's room.

That said, I do want to “get over it”, I don’t want to continue to wallow in this cesspool of guilt, anguish, and disgust that has become my everyday struggle. But I am not one who wants sympathy, support, yes and I think I have gotten that from so many people, yet I still feel alone.  Surrounded by so many people but my reality is blurred and their voices seem muffled.  This has consumed my life, I didn’t ask for it, I didn’t expect it, it came up as everything inside of you usually does.
   

Who?

I am Jarrett, a father, an ex-husband, a baby daddy, a boyfriend, a working man and greatly flawed. JRock FGBC is an alter ego that allows me to hide. I am on a journey to reclaim what was once mine or perhaps was never mine, my life.  I am here to resurrect what I left behind or never picked up.  I will be honest and truthful and it might sting a little. I am here to talk as much shit as I can. I am here to make up for lost time.  I am here to reclaim myself and my culture.  Fvck social media, if you want to know what is going on in my life, my opinions or my social commentary, here is where you will find it.  I have a Facebook account if you want to check it out but, it is mainly a re-direct back to this site.  I have and Instagram (link below), I like IG so visit that often.

I am going to touch on a lot of subjects on this site that are near to my heart, some of the content may or may not suit you, some might hit home.  This is where I attempt to bear my soul, my therapy, my attempt to save my own life, my attempt to understand fatherhood and finally, my attempt to help those who are like me "Fvcked up." 

Peace.
Jarrett "Jrock FGBC" Murrell
   

FEELS

In the begining people seemed to care, but once the schock subsides noone seems to be there.  Not that I am crying for attention or even for them to mention
my plight or my illness
or why I haven't been around to finish what I started
I know life goes on and people have their own things they're dealing with 
and I'm not siting here bitter
or 
with some kind of wish that the world would understand
mental illness is an uncontrolled death wish.

Phycological torment and love

​​I’ve never experienced a hurt as much as I do right now.  It’s not a physical hurt or even an emotional hurt.  It is a phycological hurt a hurt that never subsides, a hurt that no matter how many medications I am given, never goes away. That illness is not brought on by the weather or by contact by another sick person, it is brought on by so many different factors by so many different people.  It is a hurt that some will never recover from, it is a hurt that if you are subjected to it may take your life.

Have you ever experienced such phycological torment?  Have you ever been in so much hurt you can’t even close your eyes or take a minute to think about anything other than your hurt?  Have you ever experienced phycological torment so much that when you do close your eyes all you see is the cause of that hurt of that torment? I hope not, I hope you never have to experience that which never seems to go away.  Have you ever taken something away from yourself? You know, have you ever wanted something so bad and had the means to obtain it but mentally couldn’t bring yourself to go get it?  Have you ever hurt so bad mentally that it pains you physically?

They say hurt subsides over time, that if you allow the body time to heal it will do just that.  Is that true of mental hurt as well, if I give my mind time to recover, will it?  It has been 37 years since my childhood trauma, nothing seems to be getting better, as a matter of fact, the more I process it, the more hurt comes from it.  Maybe you haven’t experienced any of it, the pain of stubbing your toe or bitting your tongue or stepping on a piece of glass.  Maybe you haven’t experienced mental torment, hurt or suffering, If you are reading this, I hope you never do.  But if you have there is a silver lining, I don’t know what it is or when it will come but I know and believe in love and love conquers all…right?

Lover for one's self, love for your family, your friends, your hobbies, your whatever motivates you.  It has taken me a long time to figure out the concept of love, not he love for material things or the love you express when you hear your favorite song or eat your favorite dish.  But a love so deep it can only come from one place, your concept of god.  I never once brought up religion and I never will, I am not much of a religious person these days, I do however in a power greater than me.  Because I do I know I the hurt will subside one day, I know that hurt can only last so long, whether you take the hurt away yourself or love does it for you.
   

Is suicide a weakness?

Suicide, many look at as a sign of weakness as a cop out or perhaps a slip in judgment. When I knew no better I looked at suicide as perhaps the most selfish thing someone can do, not only to themselves but to those they left behind. I can't remember ever contemplating suicide or wanting to hurt myself, I always thought of myself as pretty strong and outgoing, someone people can talk to and confide in. But for the past 4 years, I was a shell of my true self. I was who I thought I should be not the fragile, frightened, confused child from 1982. People say I have a harsh exterior, that I look mad most of the time or that I say exactly what's on my mind, which some people find harsh and sometimes offensive.

The fact of the matter is, I'm really none of those things. I'm actually a shy, introvert, loner who would rather talk about anything else other than myself. That's why I write here cause it's a place to connect with friends and family I wouldn't otherwise talk to. People ask me all the time why I "air my dirty laundry on social media?" My answer is because that's what it's for. Why are we friends on this thing if I can't confide in you? Writing is the only way I express what's truly inside, it's the one avenue that I have confidence in, where I know I won't sell myself short and say what I want to say. So... if you don't like it or don't agree with my method of coping get the fvck outta here, unfriend me and be on your merry way. 
(Rant over)

As far back as I can remember I've been a loner. As a child, I had tons of school friends but only a very few close ones. As a teenager, the same thing. As I young adult I found something we call "knowledge of self" and had friendships in all walks of life. But, even in a community that can foster healing and mental wellness and spiritual bonding I wanted to be alone and isolated. Over the years I have created functions, publications, have had many speaking engagements, I have built communities and brought people together. But I've noticed now that as I get closer to things or people I begin to shut them out. I sabotage relationships, business ventures, activities, I abandon what I knew, for what I want to know, which is nothing at all. I block memories that are easily recalled by those closest to me. I do this I know now, because of trauma. I want to isolate to feel safe, I want to start things but not finish them to know that I can, but know that I won't. That I know stems from childhood trauma. 


Now as an adult turning 44 years old in a couple of days, it has taken me 35 years to even slightly come to grips with what happened to me. It's taken these past 6 months to only scratch the tip of this iceberg and that terrifies me. 

Suicide. It's me sabotaging that which I'm getting closer to. Myself. It's what I've done all my life, with all my relationships, with all my endeavors, with all that meant a great deal to me. Maybe that's why I chose the path of suicide because I'm getting close to a place I buried for so long, a place with terrible horrors, a place that for all these years never existed. Mental Illness, it's a chemical imbalance in the brain that cause you in most cases to lack serotonin, endorphin, oxytocin and dopamine (happy brain chemicals) I personally believe that loss or imbalance stems from trauma, that your body reacts by shutting down chemicals in your brain that cause us to be happy, motivated, free from clinical anxiety and mood disorders, at least in my case I believe this to be true.
 


I know I can't go back to what was, to who I was, back to my old ways. I have to find ways to complete things, I have to find ways not just to cope but to accept and work through the trauma. I don't think I'll ever get over it, I don't think this is one of those cases where you say, "I'm not going to be a victim" in my case I am a victim. What is done can't be undone, what happened to me emotionally has become a part of who I am. What happens to someone physically heals but scars run deep and true trust never comes back. I'm going to refuse to go back to who I have been since I was 7 or so years. I'm entering a phase in my life that I hope doesn't include suicide, but rather the opposite, reclamation. I'm not promising anything to anybody, I don't know when or if the darkness that haunts me will manifest as self-harm. 
I know that things in me have to change, I can't try and make other people happy or be friendly to those who don't really want a true friendship. I can't compromise at work, at home, with projects or life in general. At least not the type of compromising I am used to doing. 
(To be continued...)