hope

Mental Illness is NOT an Excuse

/ Anchoring Hope for Mental Health / Leave a comment

Hi there.

I’m about to strike a nerve in the world of mental illness. And you know what? I’m already not sorry. Because here comes the firecracker in me…

So what do I know about mental illness? Quite a bit actually. We’ll start with the professional…I’m finishing up my doctorate degree in Special Education. I’ve studied the brain, learning, disabilities, and yes, mental illness as it relates to learning. And I’m not done; I love education. I believe in its importance.

Answers come with education, and I was DESPERATE to understand what my husband was going through.

So it’s time to move onto the personal experience…my husband, Jeremy, is a five-time suicide attempt survivor. He has held a bag over his head until his grandma knocked on the door and he pulled it off – just before he lost consciousness. He has locked himself in a garage with an engine running and dashed to open the door when the fumes started burning his lungs because he got a vision of our two sons waving goodbye. It terrified him. He has put a gun to his head and thankfully didn’t pull the trigger thanks to another vision. And he has been in a car accident that nearly claimed his life in which he drove into a semi-truck at highway speeds.

And he’s still here. I thank God every day he’s still here.

But we believe there’s a reason Jeremy is still alive; and part of that reason is to be advocates for mental health. A huge part. What am I saying? That’s it…all of it. It is our personal calling to spread the truth. So there are two parts to mental illness we need you to understand…

  1. MENTAL ILLNESSES ARE REAL. AND A REAL PAIN.We get it. We 100% get it. It is hard to deal with a mental illness of any kind. Some days, even getting out of bed is challenge. Some days, the colors of the world just seem dull. Some days, the light is too bright, people talk too loud or too much about things you don’t want to hear, and others just don’t get it. Some days, it’s easier to cancel that counseling appointment. Some days, it’s easier to not take the medication the doctor prescribed. Some days, it’s easier to just stay away from everyone.

    And worse…

    Some days, alcohol or cutting seem to feel better than reality. And some days, it seems like the best idea is to just end it all. You think you’re a burden, right? You think the world will be better off without you?

    Guess what? Your brain is messing with you. It’s not your fault, but it’s also not okay.

    Am I right? Did I say something above that sounded familiar. Then you have a mental illness. It is what it is. We deal with it too, that’s why we get it and why so much of what I just wrote sounds familiar. We do understand you. You’re not alone.

    So onto my most important point…

  2. MENTAL ILLNESSES WILL NOT GO AWAY WITHOUT A FIGHT.Here’s where I may strike a nerve.

    There’s a reason I wrote “some days” above. Because I know the truth of mental illness. I know where it starts and how it progresses. I know how it goes from fleeting thoughts… What if I just drive my car off the road?

    Wait…what the heck was that? I would never do that. Too many people love me.

    …back into what we call “moments of clarity.” You wonder where those thoughts came from or why you would think them. You wonder if that’s normal? Sometimes you even try to convince yourself that it is (stop it).

    IT IS THE MOMENTS OF CLARITY THAT WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE.

    It is then, after you’ve experienced suicidal thoughts or even a profound feeling of sadness, mania, etc., and you come back to being yourself, that you NEED TO ASK FOR HELP.

    And if there are “triggers” around you, you need to learn how to deal with those. You need to accept help to the point where you are okay…truly okay. You need to learn how to reach out to your support system when you do experience those triggers. And it is absolutely possible, but it takes help from many around you. You are not alone, nor are you be expected to be.

    There is nothing…NOTHING…noble about trying to fight mental illness alone. No matter who you are. No matter what your support system consists of. We all have a support system in some way. This can consist of family, friends, counselors, doctors, nurses, churches, pastors, teachers, waitresses, librarians, meter readers…see where I’m going with this.

    I couldn’t care less who you tell. You just need to learn to say it.

    “I think my brain is lying to me. And I think I need help before it gets worse.”

    Now that’s noble.

    Mental illness is not an excuse; it’s a reason to fight harder.

    Accept help. FIGHT. And it will get better.

~ Jeremy & Bailey Koch

Purchase our books and find more about us at www.jeremyandbailey.com
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Seven Lessons Learned from Suicide

/ Anchoring Hope for Mental Health / 1 Comment

We never get it. Not completely. Those of us left behind, we’re always going to be in the dark. Frankly stated, it sucks. We just don’t understand. We often truly believe they didn’t care about us, that they wanted to hurt us or somehow meant to do it just to us. Who would want this for us? We thought they loved us. Why would they want us to be left behind with this pain? It was just so selfish.

Or was it?

My husband’s still here. He attempted suicide five times and every time he survived somehow. We didn’t understand it for a long time. We tried to live in the dark. We believed that if nobody knew the truth, it would all just disappear. I even prayed for him to be successful in his suicide attempts. Yep, you read that right. But I saw the agony he lived in and I fell into the trap too. I believed the only way out was for him to end his life. I wanted his pain to end; it wasn’t fair that he had to live with this darkness. We didn’t understand the reality or that we could get help…that life could get better.

The stories he can share now…it still gives me chills. The darkness that sets in, it’s like a thick cloud of smoke. It overtakes you so quickly that it feels like you’re trapped and there’s no way out. Jeremy maintains he had a way out…that he had visions of our boys and it snapped him back to reality. But when he came back, none of it made any sense. He didn’t remember a lot of details, even how he got to wherever he was sometimes. That’s how dark it was there.

But Jeremy was meant to live, and we know there was a reason. We can’t help others by being quiet; we tried that. It didn’t help us either. So now we’re loud…really loud. We now run a support group for anyone suffering from mental illness or supporting a loved one. We wrote our book, and we share with anyone who will listen. We’re learning more and more every day. We want you to know the truth. The lessons learned from suicide. So whether you attempted, are trying to support someone, lost a loved one, or just want to understand, hear us out.

P. S. You’ll notice I say, “in that moment,” a lot. There’s a reason.

Lessons learned from suicide:

  1. It’s not selfish.Suicide does not come from the desire to hurt another, but rather the desire to live fully and completely. The reality of what is happening in a person’s brain who is about to take his or her life is flipped from what we (with a healthy thought process in that moment) understand. They do think of you, and likely only you. But they truly and completely believe that their presence in your life is somehow hurting you or making your life more difficult. They truly believe, in that moment, that you will be better off without them. No matter how different the reality. In that moment, you are all that matters and the darkness has set in to the point where your loved one believes they are helping you, even saving you, by ending their life on this earth. I’m sorry for your pain. Suicide is not selfish. And you are loved. They didn’t want, or mean, to hurt you.
  2. You can’t save them. And you couldn’t. It’s not your fault.Things happen in life that you can’t change. Problems, bumps, confusion, friendships, relationships, etc. All of these can “complicate” mental illness. You see, someone with depression and suicidal thoughts, we maintain, is missing a certain coping mechanism. Some of us can develop these coping skills on our own, through life experiences and such. Some need more help. But some don’t want help. Even more so, some don’t understand how to ask for help. That’s where this gets more complicated. Were you there for your loved one? Yes. You have to understand that we can only help when someone lets us. Sometimes, the darkness sets in and it’s hard to understand how to find a way out or how to let someone lead you. Ever been looking for something you desperately wanted to find? You search and search and search and finally give up. Later, you go back and find that item was in a location you had looked over and over. You had to have looked directly at it hundreds of times. It was there right in front of you the whole time. You just couldn’t see it because your brain was so focused on what wasn’t there. That’s suicide. That’s the darkness. It overtakes you in that moment.
  3. Yes, it is mental illness. No, it’s not always diagnosed, known, seen, or even recognized.Yes, someone who takes their own life suffers from a mental illness. Whether that mental illness is known, long-term, situational, or brought on very quickly will likely remain a mystery. But yes, if a person believes taking his or her own life is the best, or only, option, there is a mental illness present. Help is, or was, needed. But again, refer back to number two.
  4. It happens quickly.Sometimes the darkness sets in so fast that suicide really does appear to be the only option. Sometimes people suffering are able to find a way out, sometimes they’re not. There may have been more attempts that you are unaware of. Again, it’s not your fault. The darkness sets in very quickly. It overtakes you.
  5. Sometimes signs are there before. Sometimes not.You’ll hear often after suicide that loved ones “had no idea.” And then you’ll hear talk behind their backs saying, “How could they not know?” Someone has actually said to me, “I would know if my child were suicidal.” Would you? Think about what you just said to or about another human being. Someone is suffering the loss of someone they loved deeply, and you have the nerve to say that you would know? Why? Because you love them more, or somehow better, than the person grieving? I pray it never happens to you. I truly pray you never have to know the hole that suicide leaves behind. Sometimes there are signs before. Sometimes not. Mental illness is tricky, creepy, scary, sudden, deathly, terrifying, sneaky, overwhelming, and continuous. Remember I said that there’s a reason I say “in that moment” a lot? This is why.
  6. Talking helps both before and after. Silence solves nothing.Like I said, we lived in the darkness for a long time. We learned, not so quickly, that silence solves nothing. Six years. For six years I was married to a stranger because mental illness had taken him. He had tried to accept help and medication adjustments were hell. He reacted so badly and so quickly that we finally traced back every single suicide attempt to within two weeks of starting a new medication. He was tired. And sick of being tired. We hadn’t found the right medication, we wouldn’t accept help, and living with the reality of mental illness was eating us alive. It took major breakdowns, and God’s patience with us trying to figure out why we were living in this hell, for Jeremy and I to learn that silence solves nothing. We learned to talk…to each other first. Then we learned to be open with the doctor prescribing the medications. Then with a counselor. Then with writing. The world came later. But talking is the reason we’re okay. Jeremy continues to see his counselor and his psychiatrist regularly. I write. And I study. We all have our own forms of therapy, but talking helps with mental illness. You learn quickly that you’re not alone. And for those left behind after suicide, there is grief counseling, support groups, and many more methods for you to know your feelings are legit.
  7. There is no cure, but there is help.Some beat mental illness on this earth, or at least are able to cope with the symptoms. So far, it appears that is my husband. After five suicide attempts, multiple medication failures, a near-death car accident, and a psychotic episode, Jeremy is now one year without even a suicidal thought. There was a time he couldn’t go an hour without wondering how and when he would kill himself. We got to the point when we were fed up with living that life and drove across the country for a brain scan, something not covered by insurance for mental health purposes. Shows just how broken our mental health system is; the technology is there, but it’s not being used. It was worth the money for us. We got to see Jeremy’s brain. We got to see the reality of mental illness, the medical reality of it. It’s real, you know. And in those moments when Jeremy had dark thoughts, it was his Deep Limbic System lighting up in his brain causing it all. There is no cure, but there is help. I’ll never say Jeremy will never commit suicide. I know the truth of mental illness. Refer back to number five. But he sees his doctor every month, a mental health professional. He visits with his counselor every two weeks. He has learned and uses his coping skills. He’s open with me. He holds on to hope. He has faith and he lives it out. He uses his experiences to help others. Help. That’s the key. There is no cure, but there is help.

It’s hard, and may even seem harsh, to say “it is what it is.” But that’s what we have had to do. We live a life with mental illness. Some live a life with grief. We all live some form of life. It is what it is. So we choose to try our best to help the world understand mental illness, suicide, depression, grief, loss, and especially the fact that life gets better. It does. Suicide can’t be a senseless tragedy. So turn your mess into your message. You have to hold on to that hope, and you have to live in the truth. These are seven lessons learned from suicide. Be loud and save lives.

Please share. Someone needs to read this.

~ Jeremy and Bailey

www.jeremyandbailey.com

“Never Alone: A Husband and Wife’s Journey with Depression and Faith” on Amazon

“I Do” Again

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There are few things more important in the world than being surrounded by people you love and trust, especially those who return the sentiments. David and Cara have been friends of my husband and I since we were in high school. In fact, it’s quite a hilarious story that Cara actually tried to set me up with David when we were in our early high school years. Why? Because David was a genuine nice guy, and Cara wanted that for me.

What Cara didn’t tell me then, and what I know to be true now, is that she tried to set me up with David because she didn’t believe she deserved that nice guy. She believed he was too good for her, that somehow her past made her inferior to him. But alas, years passed and David made her way into Cara’s heart not long after Jeremy made his way into mine. We lost touch over the years but came back together when Jeremy and I were hired to DJ at David and Cara’s wedding on September 4, 2004. We were there to witness their union. Time would part us again, but not for long.

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Cara and I say that “the baby years” are what brought us together again. We were both younger than many of our friends when we began our families so we understood the time of life each other was in. But some things just didn’t come easy…

Cara watched and supported Jeremy and I as we navigated the choppy waters of living with mental illness. She was the first person to whom I revealed the whole truth of Jeremy’s suicide attempts. She was the person I called when I needed to cry, to be completely honest, and sometimes to just scream. Cara is, without a doubt, the most forgiving and accepting person I have ever met in my life. She was my comfort and steadfast support person always reminding me that Jesus had a plan for good in all the mess we were living.

Cara taught me so much, never realizing most of what she taught me came from how she handled her own life. The truth is Cara was fighting her own battle. Over the years of our friendship, I watched her and David struggle. I watched the reality of a blended family take its toll on their relationship. I watched priorities become confusing. I watched hurts happen and then become reasons for bigger hurts. I watched love fade, arguments turn to battles, and shots fired turn into full-blown war. But there was something else I witnessed.

I watched as two people were realizing that the people who often hurt you the most are the people who love you the most.

There are people in this world who can’t handle seeing others happy when they are unhappy themselves. These traits do not live in David or Cara. No matter what their lives consist of, they can genuinely and completely be happy for others. This is truly a trait to be admired and is certainly what I admire most about our friends. David and Cara could have pushed Jeremy and I aside long ago because our relationships had little in common. But what I love about our friendship is that none of us ever gave up on each other even when the world told us we should. And our kids…our kids adore each other.

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It’s hard to love two people so much and watch them struggle so hard. At one point, I did almost give up. I didn’t know how to help or what my place was. I said things to my friends I had no right to. I was tired of watching the hurt and part of me stopped believing in God’s ability to heal. I had started to take sides, human sides as opposed to where I had always stayed safe and steadfast before…on Jesus’ side.

And then it happened. I watched as David and Cara hit true brokenness. I had never seen either of them so low, and it was because they were finally seeing what life without the other would look like. I’ll never forget having many conversations in the past with Cara telling her the truth of why I knew my relationship with Jeremy was so strong.

I would say, “Picture your life without him. Look into the future and imagine he’s really not there. What does life look like?” It was only when I saw what life would be like without Jeremy that I truly began to appreciate everything about us. I knew the same would be true for them.

But life has a way of not allowing us to imagine situations like this in such detail until we are actually living it. I saw David and Cara truly broken and I learned an important life lesson. Sometimes, it’s actually easier to heal broken than it is to heal bent.

After being broken, David and Cara began to heal…truly heal. Cara tells me now that it took them 11 years to figure out marriage, to truly understand the sacrifice, the give-and-take, and the dedication to never let love fade. I watched them begin to have weekly date nights, something I had never seen, and to rarely allow exceptions to the date night rule. I watched them begin to understand that the marriage has to come before the children, a real and accurate rule of relationships so many young couples struggle with. I watched them begin to attend church together and truly worship Jesus knowing He is the reason that which was broken is now healing. I watched them attend marriage counseling and both be completely honest.

But you know the best part? I watched David become Cara’s best friend instead of me. I watched her run to him and not me. I watched my knowledge of their relationship become less and less. 

As Cara’s support person, I listened and did the best I knew how to try to support her. But now everything is different. Healing is happening and I get to just be the friend. Why am I writing this? For one, David and Cara told me I could. For two, the couple hopes to help other struggling marriages through their trials and triumphs. But for three, I want David and Cara to know how much respect I have for them and how proud I am of them.

So on September 4, 2016, Jeremy and I were there to witness their “I Do” again. David and Cara vowed to recommit themselves first to Jesus, second to their marriage, and third to their children. What an honor and a blessing. I could not be more proud to call them my friends. Congratulations to David and Cara. You two are an inspiration.

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David and Cara would like you to have their email address if you feel inclined to reach out to them. Perhaps you need some hope in your own marriage. Trust me, they are a great resource. Email them at carabcochran@yahoo.com

~ Bailey

http://www.jeremyandbailey.com/

Please like our page on Facebook to follow our journey and share our mission with others. https://www.facebook.com/jeremyandbaileykoch/

I watched my husband cry today. I watched my husband heal today.

/ Anchoring Hope for Mental Health / 8 Comments

Today has been a hard day, like, really hard. Today, I held my friend as she sobbed on my shoulder. We stood together next to her son lying peacefully in his casket. Barton was 34 years old, and we paid our final respects at Mount Calvary Lutheran Church in Holdrege, Nebraska. Barton had a good life and he was loved by many, but the challenges he faced on this earth were too great. He had hundreds of friends and family members who supported him and tried to help him in this life, but ultimately, a disease had a strong hold on Barton.

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We have an amazing God, and He called Barton home to give him peace. I know with all my heart that Barton is walking with our Father because God decided he had struggled with his illness for long enough. Now comes the beautiful truth that Barton is whole again. He is at peace. I know Sherry’s faith, my friend and Barton’s mother. We shared many stories of faith, healing, and signs from God in the years we shared an office as special education teachers. So today I was heartbroken when I saw the gray skies. Just what she needs, cloudy skies, I thought.  So I did what I have learned to do on so many occasions.

Heavenly Father, I know You are here with us.
I know you know Sherry and the family, so I am asking you now.
Please give them light – Your light, sunlight, light in their hearts.
Help them see through the darkness they are feeling.
Help us all see You.
In Your Son’s holy and precious name. Amen.

The pastor who spoke at this funeral withheld nothing; he discussed that those of us whom are left on this earth to try to heal without someone we loved have it the worst. Could we have done more? Would Barton have accepted help if we had shown up on his doorstep just one more time? The answer lies in understanding that we will never have answers. God places good in our lives everywhere; but we have to choose to see the good. We have to choose to live every single day. And if we can’t do that on this earth, because God sent His son for us, we can be at peace knowing that our God is all-forgiving. He is only good. And those we loved so wholly get to be whole once again.

Did you know there is no time in Heaven? When I spoke to Sherry the day after Barton passed, I shared with her what a faith mentor of mine helped me understand. I struggled when friends lost their children; I imagined that all these children in Heaven only want one thing…their parents. It’s hard to imagine a world without fear, without pain, without questions; we can’t even fathom it. So I struggled with the idea that if I lose my children, they won’t miss me? How can that be? How can my children not miss me when my heart is breaking for them?

“But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord, one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.” 2 Peter 3:8 (ESV)

And I understood. When those we love walk through Heaven’s gates and meet Jesus, they may very well ask, “Where is my mom?” And I imagine that Jesus may answer something like, She will be here any minute. There. Behind you.

Barton is okay. As I sat silent next to my husband, I watched the clouds outside the enormous picture windows part. I watched the blue sky emerge as hundreds shed tears of pain and cleansing, of forgiveness and faith, and of hope. I leaned in and told my husband what I had prayed. He answered, “I noticed that too.”

But my story doesn’t end here – I know God makes good come from every situation. And even as I sat mourning for my friend midst the loss of her son, I felt healing. More importantly, I witnessed healing on behalf of my husband, who came with me to this funeral in support of Sherry and I. But he was there for a much greater purpose, and now we understand.

Jeremy has fought illness very similar to Barton’s for years. Barton struggled with alcoholism because he didn’t understand his brain, but Jeremy has suffered from severe suicidal thoughts, often not understanding why he should have to take on such a monster within himself. The Why me? is very dangerous, but it is also very common. It is a stage of grief before acceptance of mental illness is possible. After years of battling by himself because of his refusal to let anyone in, Jeremy finally began accepting help. He finally understood that God had placed good everywhere in his life to help him see Him. He survived five suicide attempts, a near-death car accident likely caused by a medication failure, and an awful lot of medication adjustments because of meds that caused him to black out or have horrible suicidal thoughts.

It seemed like hell on earth, but do you know why he fought? He fought for us.

Jeremy is a daddy. He is a husband, a son, a brother, a son-in-law, brother-in-law, nephew, grandson, cousin, friend…everything. He is everything to many. And when we walked out of that funeral and shut the door to our van, Jeremy hung his head and sobbed.

“It was like sitting at my own funeral. It was like watching the pain left behind,” Jeremy said through tears. “That could have been me. That could have been you.”

His tears dropped one after another into his lap and I joined. We tried to console each other, but mostly we just cried together. Jeremy and I had not said a word to each other as we sat there looking through the glass at a wall of windows with enormous and breathtaking crosses towering outside, but we both felt it. I shed tears as I remembered those days not knowing if I was about to begin planning my husband’s funeral. Watching hearts break on this earth because of missing someone so desperately is torture. Even with the faith in knowing our loved ones are whole again, it is still hard. And that’s okay. We can all learn from loss. We can choose to let sadness envelop us, or we can choose to see the good.

Jeremy today.

Jeremy this afternoon.

We said goodbye today and we supported Barton’s family and friends. But God helped us heal ourselves at the same time. He let us see what it would be like to lose Jeremy to his illness, to be separated on this earth, to not follow what we completely understand to be our mission in this life. We are still here together for a reason.

We are ready to dedicate ourselves to helping others understand there is hope in mental illness. It’s okay to accept help; it doesn’t make us weak. Today, we can say that Jeremy’s depression is the best thing that ever happened to us; it led us to our faith in God and our purpose in life.

Jeremy designed the cover of our book himself as this was such a personal endeavor.

Jeremy designed the cover of our book himself as this was such a personal endeavor.

Our book, “Never Alone: A Husband and Wife’s Journey with Depression and Faith”, was published this year. It tells our past story of hurt, anger, and finding faith and healing, but now we think it’s time to write more because we continue to see God at work in our lives. It’s time to keep the story moving, to explain how submitting to God’s will and embracing the past, rather than being afraid of it, continues to help us heal as we share our story – complete with tears and triumphs. We found hope and we pray we can help others find it too.

As we continued to drive home talking about our faith and our trust in knowing we are on the right path, I noticed a voice mail on my phone. Last night, I wrote a simple thank you letter to the staff and administration at Richard Young Hospital in Kearney, the place I brought my husband to on September 11, 2009 the first time he tried to take his life. I brought him there to keep him safe from himself, and it was one of the hardest days of my life. But it began our journey toward the acceptance of faith and healing. The voicemail was from a woman named Marsha at CHI Health Good Samaritan Hospital in Kearney; she received our thank you and asked if we would be willing to share our story with many at the Light Up the Night walk for mental health awareness this Friday night, September 11, 2015 in Kearney. The tears continued to fall as Jeremy said the dates are not a coincidence. The walk is six years to the day from his first mental health hospitalization. And we were already signed up to attend and support others and ourselves since Jeremy’s sister demanded our presence with her; she desperately wanted to walk in support of us and in healing herself. Watching your brother live with mental illness is not easy; supporting is not easy. But Jacqui, you are an inspiration to us all and you never would take no for an answer. We love that about you. So Friday, on the six year anniversary of the first time Jeremy fought the darkness so hard, we are humbled to speak at the Light Up the Night walk for mental health awareness in Kearney.

Healing Via Walking

Healing Via Walking

We had a breakthrough today as we said goodbye to Barton and supported his family and friends. Good has already come from this and I can’t imagine the peace Barton has now, it’s impossible to comprehend. Today, I watched my husband cry. I watched my husband heal. I watched my husband get truly fired up for his purpose while he is here on this earth with us.

To the family and friends of Barton, please take pride in knowing we feel Barton with us. We didn’t know him well, but we know his mother well. We know her desire to do anything to help others, and we imagine Barton is just like her cheering us on in Heaven. While a disease on earth held Barton back from being whole, he is whole again now and he is already doing amazing things. It’s time to help others. God bless you all.

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Learn more about us, Jeremy and Bailey Koch, on our website. There, you can find our story and even purchase our book, “Never Alone: A Husband and Wife’s Journey with Depression and Faith”, on Amazon or from us directly in paperback.