(To Amy Steinberg, our new Jubilee minister, 11/26)
I am going to make it. I have been dancing to your “Get up” and “Infinite Soul Superhero” for about a half-hour – crying intensely on and off. I’m stronger, looser – the pain no longer has me in its vice grip. I could dance much longer and I know it would help, but now I am being called to write. And the most powerful thing i can write is this:
My “Gift” for the Jubilee Sunday services on 12/15
4 minutes – two minutes of talking (I have timed it) and two minutes of all of us dancing to “Get up” (not the whole song).
A Gift of Story: “Get up” by Majo (song by Amy Steinberg)
This last year has been very emotionally difficult for me – I was hospitalized on psych wards twice last Spring for coming very close to killing myself.
At 3 a.m. on Monday June 26, I “woke up”. I committed to living 100% from a place of integrity, telling all the truth and letting nobody mess with me.
The whole story is in my blog, Waking up – the link is in your insert. I have completely rejected the mental illness label and know that all along I was having a spiritual crisis – that the true self was trying to push through the conditioned social persona, the ego. I have reclaimed with a vengeance my personal power and the power of my sexuality – including that I recently came out as bisexual.
I have been non-stop happy for six months and am totally impervious to disapproval from others. I am more loving than ever and simultaneously a total badass.
But the pull of the old psychiatric story that I have “bipolar disorder” – which is forever and means I will have to take heavy-duty drugs forever – is still very strong. Four times in the last six months, some mental health professional has said to me some version of: “This happiness is really all mania, because we have been letting you reduce your meds. Any day now, you are going to get very depressed – and you will realize that all this “waking up” stuff has been an illusion and you will be very humiliated. You need to increase your medication again immediately.” In each case of being told this horrible shit – in the name of “helping” me – I have had the presence of mind to say some version of “You have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. I’m great. Everybody else knows I’m fine – my psychotherapist, my best friends, the counselor in my seniors building, my minister. You are trying to keep me believing a story that I very unfortunately fell into believing – because I was so desperate for releif from my pain – for 30 years. I have woken up from that story now. Reducing my meds has not made me manic – it has allowed me to be a full human being again. I’m going to continue to reduced them whether you help me with it or not.”
Pretty great – huh? Very exciting stuff. But in each of these four cases, their destructive hypotic suggestions actually worked. Overnight the 30-year destructive story came out of my unconscious and took over again. I have been unable in the morning to push through the undiagnosed chronic pain that I have learned I can push past and get on with my day. Instead, I have retreated into the bed and said, “Come take me, depression. I knew you would come back for me. I’m yours.”
This last time, I heard in my head Amy’s “Get up”, to which I have been dancing non-stop lately. I yelled and grunted and cried my way into the living room and I danced – and I was back!
Today, I want to ask you all to dance this song with me. Hear the words of fighting back against the voices that say, “Who the hell are you? You can’t do that.” Look at each other and say, “I know you can do it.” or “I know I can do it”.
This is my big shot – this is what I need from my Jubilee peeps. Let’s dance.