DaveBarker
Health And Fitness Forums Moderator

CherryRead has a wonderful idea. Please use this for positive thoughts for our brothers and sisters.

A simple request regarding Inspiration Topic thread comments. The following is from Cherryread:

Please keep in mind that the intention of the Inspiration Topic thread is supposed to be for creative thinking and creative works. The purpose of the thread is more upbeat than negative. We have to deal with negative thought processes when we have PTSD but those thoughts should be considered as contributions to the Rant thread. Comments should be linked to the creative works of a poster. If you desire a conversation thread, I would suggest that a Rap thread be created or private email used for the purpose.

Respectfully requested,
Cherry

I agree with Cherryread, please proceed.

Dave Barker

Sand and Stone

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument and one friend slapped the other one in the face.

The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:

TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and
started drowning, but the friend saved him.

After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:

TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"

The other friend replied "When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone
does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.

Author Unknown

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This message has been edited. Last edited by: VietVetArmyReservMOM,

(Original Post by CHERRYREAD)

Article: A RECOVERY STORY

By Tayler Whitehead

I am reminded of the biblical quote around giving a man a fishing rod to catch his own fish, rather than feeding him a daily diet. Mental health issues are no different in this sense, than any other of the elements of life we must face. If we wish to have a chocolate bar we must do a number of things to achieve that goal; such as walk to the shop, ensure we have enough money etc. Too often in my work I meet people who have never taken responsibility for their lives, let alone their illness. Too often behavioural factors are blamed on mental health, as an excuse for not moving forward and making the most of life's abundance. We can liken this to many of the societal problems we see in our poorer areas. Lack of hope, self determination, living a preconceived idea of what is expected, rather than breaking free of the bounds that have taken us to this stage in life.

Mental illness is not a reason to roll over and rely on others who have no vested interest in our recovery. It is a valid reason to take charge and make the most of what we have. Our strengths in being able to survive are phenomenal, and give us a greater advantage, I feel, over the general population. How can you gain insight and strength if you have never been challenged in the ways that we have in our personal development? In this I can only look to my own personal development over the years; and the steps I have had to take to achieve a level of wellness that has allowed me to participate fully in life.

For me hope was an issue that had to be addressed in order to consider moving on to the other steps of recovery. I had to accept my life was not over, that I was not baggage that could be disposed of in a corner and forgotten by society. I spent my life till 35 years with no label and no understanding that I had a mental illness (even though as a teenager I had been institutionalised for a period). I had lived my whole life with feelings of depression and suicidation. In not understanding what was wrong I battled on and continued to suffer, striving constantly to be able to achieve the goals I knew I should be able to. When I hit a particularly bad low and was told I was suffering depression I felt like I had been released. The knowledge that there was a legitimate reason for my feelings I was able to actually begin to grow. For me a label was a positive experience in that it allowed me to make sense of my life.

Slowly I began to find out as much as I could about my illness and the rapid cycling nature of it. This knowledge was the basis that I could then re-build my self-esteem and life around. The more knowledge I gained, the more knowledge I realised I needed to know. I questioned my doctor, my community psychiatric nurse, other service users my friends I searched the Internet. It was from these varied sources I began to understand more about what was normal to feel and what was illness. I looked at the behavioural triggers and undertook counselling to remove as many as I could. If I realised I was reacting due to a past event from my childhood I acknowledged it and re-evaluated from my adult. I maintained a mood chart, studied the medications I was on, the side effects, combinations and expected outcomes. It took ten years to get my medication right, and I was the one in the end who suggested the combination that has proved to work.

Luckily I had a very good doctor who treated me as a peer and respected my input. This is not to say I always had such professional input. I have seen many doctors with varying results, some good some bad. But the knowledge and the will to live a full life made me question the opinions of the professionals. If I was not satisfied with the treatment or their response to me I took another. I had to be strong in advocating for my needs to be met. I could not sit back and allow others to decide what was in my best interest. This of course did not happen overnight. It has taken many years to reach the level I am at now. Especially learning to question the medical professions choices and rational.

I am well now and working full time because I have done the hard yards. Have taken responsibility for my life and my recovery (ability to live well in the presence or absence of mental illness). Created a supportive network of friends I can call if I need to. Though I must admit I still tend to isolate more than I should. Where hope was once an impossible dream, a term I never really believed in or accepted for my life. I am now living my life the way I want to. Achieving the goals I set for myself, participating in the way I wish to in life. Hope is now a term belonging to the past; I no longer need to hope as I have achieved that goal. I have the self-esteem I once lacked. I no longer try to hide my illness from others in fear of rejection, or feel that I am inferior to others. I control my life with the support of professionals and friends. I like all who recover (be it mental illness or alcoholism etc) have learnt that the only thing that will make a difference is self-determination, the willingness to take full responsibility for my life.

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This message has been edited. Last edited by: VietVetArmyReservMOM,

(Original Post by CHERRYREAD)

SURVIVOR PSALM

by Frank Ochberg, MD
& Gift From Within

I have been victimized.
I was in a fight that was
not a fair fight.
I did not ask for the fight.
I lost.
There is no shame in losing
such fights.
I have reached the stage of
survivor and am no longer a
slave of victim status.
I look back with sadness
rather than hate.
I look forward with hope
rather than despair.
I may never forget, but I need
not constantly remember.
I was a victim.
I am a survivor.

http://www.giftfromwithin.org/html/poems.html
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This message has been edited. Last edited by: VietVetArmyReservMOM,

About 15 years ago, I was going through all the little cards and brochures sitting by the main door to my church and found this poem. At the time I grabbed a pile of them and have shared this poem with people who walk a difficult health walk.

I have only one battered copy left. This amazing lady struggled with her illness and being forced to bed for a long time. Yet, finally accepted her path and grew to see her life in a different way, a comforting way.

May someone be comforted by me sharing it here.

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I NEEDED THE QUIET

I needed the quiet so He drew me aside.
Into the shadows where we could confide.
Away from the bustle where all the day long
I hurried and worried when active and strong.

I needed the quiet tho at first I rebelled
But gently, so gently, my cross He upheld
And whispered so sweetly of spiritual things
Tho weakened in body, my spirit took wings
To heights never dreamed of when active and gay,
He loved me so greatly He drew me away.

I neededs the quiet. No prison my bed,
But a beautiful valley of blessings instead---
A place to grow richer in Jesus to hide.
I needed the quiet so He drew me aside.

....Alice Hansche Mortenson

(from the book "I Needed the Quiet", copyright 1978 by Beacon Hill Press).

Since Alice had permitted mass distribution of this poem to churches, feel free to share it with others in need. It does help.

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This message has been edited. Last edited by: VietVetArmyReservMOM,

(Original Post by CHERRYREAD)

A GIFT TO REMEMBER

On an old lonely street,
on the far side of town,
I wasn’t so sure of what I had found.
I couldn’t believe; it was such a shock,
To see this old man with only one sock.

His shirt was so ripped it looked like a rag,
Under his head was an old dirty bag.
I shook him a little; he looked up at me,
He said with a tear, “Is our country still free?”

I helped him up, slowly he rose,
Things started falling out of his clothes.
When I picked up his things,
the tears hit my eyes,
I trembled inside at such a surprise.

They were all medals he had from a war,
This man was a soldier who ended up poor,
I left and came back,
I said, “Help’s on the way.”
Then he fell to the ground
and I started to pray.

I placed all the medals there on his chest,
I heard this voice say -
“This man’s done his best.
He couldn’t find work, he knew nothing.
you see,
But he had this great gift -
to help keep us free.”



Provided by Irving E. Rice, of Dilliner, Pennsylvania.

His poem achieved the First Honorable Mention by the Morgantown (W.VA.) Poetry Society.

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(Original Post by CHERRYREAD)

I BELIEVE

I believe in miracles
And dreams that will come true,
And I believe in happiness
And friendship, through and through
I believe that when you cry
Your tears are not in vain,
And when you're sad and lonely,
Someone knows that you're in pain.

I believe that when we laugh
A sparkle starts to shine,
And before you know
These sparks will spread
From more hearts than just mine.
I believe the gifts you have
Are there for you to share,
And when you give them from the heart,
The whole world knows you care.

I believe that if you give,
Even just to one,
That gift will grow in magnitude
Before the day is done.
I believe that comfort comes
From giving part of me,
And if I share with others,
There's more for all to see.

I believe that love is still
The greatest gift of all,
And when it's given from the heart,
Love will conquer all.

...Author Unknown...

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NOTE from MOM: I too believe these things. Wish I had written this lovely poem !!!

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(Original Post by CHERRYREAD !!!)

THOUGHTS OF A SOLDIER


I fought in the snow barefoot to give you
the freedom to vote and you
stay at home because it rains.

I left my family destitute to give you
the freedom of speech and you
remain silent on critical issues,
because it might be bad for business.

I orphaned my children to give you a government
to serve you and it has
stolen democracy from the people.

It's the soldier, not the reporter
who gives you the freedom of the press.

It's the soldier, not the poet
who gives you the freedom of speech.

It's the soldier, not the campus organizer
who allows you to demonstrate.

It's the soldier, who salutes the flag,
serves the flag, whose coffin is draped
with the flag that allows
the protester to burn the flag!!!

***************

You don't have to pass this to anyone,
and you won't be punished in
any way if you don't.

Neither will you receive a grand gift if you do.

But, our armed forces military personnel might appreciate it if you do......... just to pass along his thoughts.

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My car trips to the VA hospital here in NC are traveled along country routes. Passing a small church yesterday, it's billboard message sign said something that truly warmed my heart and made me remember just what is important in our daily walks.

It said:

Be Kind. Everyone follows a rocky road.

How true !!!

MOM

(Original Post by DAVE BARKER)

MARINE CPT BRIAN CHONTOSH was awarded the Navy Cross last Thursday, in a ceremony at Marine Corps Training Center, Twenty-Nine Palms, California.

The citation reads, “for Extraordinary Heroism.”

While leading his platoon north on Highway 1 toward Ad Diwaniyah, Chontosh's platoon moved into a coordinated ambush of mortars, rocket propelled grenades and automatic weapons fire. With coalitions tanks blocking the road ahead, he realized his platoon was caught in a kill zone. He had his driver move the vehicle through a breach along his flank, where he was immediately taken under fire from an entrenched machine gun. Without hesitation, Chontosh ordered the driver to advanced directly at the enemy position enabling his .50 caliber machine gunner to silence the enemy. He then directed his driver into the enemy trench, where he exited his vehicle and began to clear the trench with an M16A2 service rifle and 9 millimeter pistol.

His ammunition depleted, Chontosh, with complete disregard for his safety, twice picked up discarded enemy rifles and continued his ferocious attack. When a Marine following him found an enemy rocket propelled grenade launcher, Chontosh used it to destroy yet another group of enemy soldiers.

When his audacious attack ended, he had cleared over 200 meters of the enemy trench, killing more than 20 enemy soldiers and wounding several others.

What does Chontosh have to say about all this?
I was just doing my job, I did the same thing every other Marine would have done…

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I will cast no stones!

Dave Barker

A fella was walking down the road and fell into a deep hole and couldn't get out.

A doctor came by and said, "Take these pills and you will be strong enough to climb out."

A priest came by and said, "Pray with these words and you will get out."

Neither of the two worked.

Then, a true friend jumped into the hole with him.

Our guy said, "Why did you jump into this hole with me?"

The friend replied, "Because I know how to get out."

Sometimes our search can be as simple as finding the friend who can help us get out of the deep hole.

SOLDIER

I was that which others did not want to be.
I went where others feared to go,
and did what others failed to do.
I asked nothing from those who gave nothing, and reluctantly accepted the thought of eternal loneliness...should I fail.
I have see the face of terror;
felt the stinging cold of fear;
And enjoyed the sweet taste of a moment's love.
I have cried, panicked, and hoped...
but most of all,
I have lived times others would say
were best forgotten.
At least someday I will be able to say
that I was proud of what I was...
...A soldier.

George L. Skypack

This message has been edited. Last edited by: VietVetArmyReservMOM,

I am reading a novel about an Irish family and found this Irish Prayer/Poem.

It expresses my hope for all who suffer on our forum and all who suffer silently as well.

It speaks of family and that is us here on the forum. May any who enter this forum know this to be true.

---------------------------------

Lord behold our family here assembled.
Give us peace, gaiety and the quiet mind.
Give us strength to encounter that which is to come.
That we may be brave in peril,
Constant in all changes of fortune,
And that down to the gates of death,
we may be loyal and love one another.

---R. L. Stevenson

------------------------------

From the Heart,

MOM

MoM you are sumthin' else. Bless you, may GOD bless you

Thanks Davey Doo, Scooby Doo's Daddy, but I is only a cuttin' and a pastin' and a hittin' a few keys...

MOM

This was what inspires me, and kept me going. Maybe it can help someone else.

Fiddler's Green

Halfway down the trail to Hell,
In a shady meadow green,
Are the souls of all dead Troopers camped,
Near a good ol' time canteen,
And this Eternal resting place,
Is known as Fiddler's Green.

Marching past, straight through to Hell,
The Infantry are seen,
Accompanied by the Engineers, Artillery, and Marines.
For none but the Shades of Cavalrymen,
Dismount at Fiddler's Green.
Though some go curving down the trail,
To seek a warmer scene,
No Trooper ever gets to Hell,
E're he empty his canteen,
And so rides back to drink again,
With his friends at Fiddler's Green.
So when a Man and Horse go down,
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee,
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And go to Fiddler's Green.

"All gave some, Some gave all."

[QUOTE]Originally posted by CavScout19D30:
This was what inspires me, and kept me going. Maybe it can help someone else.(end quote)

Thank you for your valuable and inspring contribution, for those that have BTDT, the words hit deep and hard.

The few that can understand, very often bare the burden of survival, and all that goes with it.

Cavscout, its good to have you around.

I just read all the posts here because I needed something positive. Thanks! Sally

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

Wishing to encourage her young son's progress on the piano, a mother took her boy to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted an old friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her.

Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked "NO ADMITTANCE." When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the
mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle,Twinkle Little Star."

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear,

"Don't quit. "Keep playing."

Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience.

The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic, " Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy.
We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music.

However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.

The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully.

You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear,

"Don't quit." "Keep playing."

May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.

Remember, God doesn't seem to call the equipped, rather, He equips the 'called.'

Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you acquire. So touch someone by passing this little message along.

May God bless you and be with you always!

This message has been edited. Last edited by: VietVetArmyReservMOM,