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I Hate Bipolar Disorder

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I hate bipolar disorder.  It is a toxic, cruel disease that steals life and happiness from those who suffer with it as well as their families.  The disease is a trickster.  One moment you’re dancing on cloud nine, and the next you are in a dark tunnel from which there seems to be no escape.  The disease tricks you into thinking you’re okay.  It tricks  you into thinking that  you are invincible, and that you don’t need medication.  It tricks you and then laughs behind the back of its victims as they suffer needlessly.

I hate bipolar disorder.  It killed my husband.  He was the sweetest, most loving person I know.  He had a heart that was huge, and he would help anyone out who needed it.  He truly would give you the shirt off of his back.  I’ve seen him do just that.  Still, the disease caused him so many problems in his life.  Because of it, he lost jobs, lost friendships, ostracized family members.  He was rejected by churches because of his unconventional behaviors.  People often thought he was weird.  He wasn’t weird.  He was sick.  He was bipolar.  Still, who wants to walk around with a label as a means of explaining away behavior?

My husband is gone, and I am will never touch him again.  I will never feel his warm loving arms around me again.  I will never hear his laugh again.  I will never walk alongside him again.  He is gone.  He took a part of me with him that I will never get back.  I wish that I could run to him right now, wrap my arms around him and just hold him close.  I would tell him how much I love him.  I would tell him I’m sorry if I ever hurt him.  I would tell him I forgive him for any wrong he ever committed against me.  I would just hold him.  I will never love anyone else the way I loved my husband.  I can’t imagine ever loving anyone again…and that’s fine.  One day I will see him again in Heaven.  His mood swings will be gone.  He will be happy and carefree…and that is all that I have ever wanted for him.

If anyone out there suffers from bipolar disorder, let me tell you this.  It is a disease.  It doesn’t mean you’re crazy.  It simply means you have a chemical imbalance and need medication.  Take it from someone who lived for 33 years with a bipolar husband….your disease is not your own.  It affects everyone around you.  It affects the ones you love the most.  It is your enemy and seeks to destroy your life.  DON’T LET IT.  You deserve to live a happy fulfilled life.  Show this toxic enemy that you are the stronger one.  Don’t let the bipolar disorder win.  You are worth more than that.

 

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Written by cherylawilliams

July 9, 2012 at 4:56 am

A Message To Pastor Charles Worley

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I have something to say to Pastor Charles Worley, minister at Providence Road Baptist Church (the minister who gave the sermon where he would have all lesbians and homosexuals put inside of a fence and pretty much left to die).

Shame on you.  Shame on your hateful, bigoted, narrow-minded view of Christianity.  As a Christian, I was appalled at your words.  I had to listen time and again just to make sure I was hearing you correctly.

First of all, we are all sinners.  YOU are a sinner.  It is not your place to pass judgement on anyone.  It IS, however, your place to love everyone.  That is what Jesus called us to do.  Jesus did condemn the adulterers and tax collectors. He loved them, and gave his life for them.  He did the same for you. 

I daresay that if your parishiners were to do a bit of spying, they would see that you are not perfect either.  Do you ever lie or cheat or steal?  Have you ever had a lustful thought about a woman or a man?  Have you ever coveted the pulpit of a minister with a bigger church or wished you had a bigger house or newer car?  Well, if you have (and I’m certain you have),  then guess what?  You belong right inside of that fence with the lesbians and homosexuals.  Sin is sin and God cannot live in the midst of sinners.

The same grace that is available to you is available to them…and it is up to God where their hearts lie.  Nobody knows but them and God.  Perfection is not a prerequisite to forgiveness.  If a person is perfect, then he has nothing to be forgiven of.

Just as you have no right to judge them, I have no right to judge you.  I will say this, however;  your example of Christianity is the reason why so many people have no desire to become a Christian.  It makes me sad, because I know that this is not the message that Jesus wanted his followers to share.  God is love, and there is nothing loving about the message that you are sharing. Hopefully, the majority of people will see this.

Weight, Self-Esteem, and Bullying

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I have struggled with my weight for as long as I can remember.  As a teenager, I remember wanting so badly to be popular, but I allowed my weight to put a barrier between my peers and me.  It was hard trying to fit in.  I wanted to be able to do the same things the other kids were doing.  Going out for pizza, however, was a traumatic event for me.  First of all, I didn’t want my friends to think that I actually ate pizza.  I had much rather have them think that the weight just mysteriously appeared on my body.  As ridiculous as that sounds, at the time it made perfect sense to me.   To go and eat pizza with my friends would mean risking them thinking I was a big fat pig.  If I didn’t eat anything, that would only draw attention to the fact that I was trying to lose weight, and that wasn’t a conversation that I wanted to have either.  After all, that would invite follow up questions down the road.  How much weight have you lost?  How much do you want to lose?

I remember many a lonely night sitting at home while my friends were out having funI was not able to wear the cute fashions that the other girls wore.  My mother always had to buy my clothing in the chubby girls section at the department store.  I hated that.  I remember cringing with embarrassment every time she took me shopping.  It was humiliating. Summer time was the worst.  I can’t even remember how many swim parties I was invited to that I had to turn down.  I never went to even one of them.  The thought of putting on a swimsuit in front of my peers was almost more than I could bear.

Kids can be cruel.  As an overweight teenage girl, I beat myself up enough, but the harsh words of my peers were enough to send me into a deep dark depression.  I didn’t want to go to school.  I didn’t want to hang out with them.  I didn’t want to do anything except…well…eat.  Food became my drug of choice.  It became my comfort, my friend.  In my loneliness, 

Don’t get me wrong.  I tried to lose weight.  I would go on water fasts for days at a time, obsessing about my weight.  I tried the grapefruit diet, the rice diet, and countless other diets all to no avail.  It was simply too hard to keep up that kind of eating for any length of time.  Even if I lost weight, it would come back on just as quickly as it came off.  Add to that the fact that I had a mother who showed her love to her family with her food.  She was such a good cook, and if I didn’t eat seconds or even thirds at dinner, it would hurt her feelings.  The perfect recipe for obesity in a shy, quiet child who loved to please.

I’m very glad that I am not a teenager in today’s society where expectations of what one should look like have tripled since those years long ago.  I feel for the girls who are so obsessed with their looks that they forget who they are deep inside.  As long as they look good, life is good.  If only life were that simple.

Unrealistic expectations coupled with a culture where bullying is prevalent is a recipe for disaster.  Who can ever measure up?  Both the bully and the bullied both suffer from a lack of self-esteem.  The only difference is that they manifest that lack in different ways.

My upcoming YA novel, “Alone in the Crowd” is a must read for both teenagers and parents.  Stay tuned….

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Written by cherylawilliams

May 20, 2012 at 7:58 pm

Today is a day …

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Today is a day filled with inspiration coming from many directions.  Some days are like that.  On those days, the writing come easy.  Words bubble out of me freely.  They can’t contain themselves.  Other days are not so effortless.  Those are the days that take discipline.  Those are the days I don’t always feel like writing, but know I must write anyway.  My muse may be taking a nap, but I know that consistency is needed on my end.  It shows my commitment to what I do.  I have to admit that it can be a constant struggle.  On those days I search for inspiration and none is to be found, it’s hard to sit down and write.  It seems that the harder I try, the harder it is for the words to come.  Still, they come.  They may not be the best words.  They may not be the final words.  But they are words, and they always lead me to something better.  I am my own worst critic.  If what I am writing is not that great, something inside tells me to just stop and wait until I can do it better.  This is never a good idea.  What if my muse is taking a very long nap?  Am I supposed to just shut down?  Of course not.  Still, it can happen easily if I am not ever mindful of what I need to be doing.

Today my muse is awake and being a bit mischievous.  My mind is racing with new ideas, and words are flowing.  I savor the moment, because I know it may be fleeting.  Days like this help to remind me of why I love to write.

Wrestling With My Muse (a Poem)

I stare at blank pages.

They call to me with ancient rhythms

as my Muse sits on my shoulder

wearing a jester’s hat,

drinking rum from a tin cup,

teasing me into believing

he has a few words of wisdom

to fill my empty pin.

A fickle fellow is he!

Sometimes I want to hug him tight;

Other times I want to trade him in

for a bit of eloquence.

Today I just chuckle back at him

as he passes me his bottle of rum.

Written by cherylawilliams

May 4, 2012 at 5:41 pm

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I Need a Branding, Baby!

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I need a branding, baby!

Well….branding is important, isn’t it?  Especially if you’re a writer who is trying to sell books.  When you are branded, people have an idea of what to expect in your writing.

My problem is that I could easily be branded in several different ways.  I write on a lot of topics.  Some are very mainstream.  Some are very controversial.  Some are inspirational.  Some are erotic.  Some are raw and heartwrenching.  Some are funny.  They all are 100% me.

Therefore, I’m not quite certain what my brand would be.  I see myself as a prism, multifaceted with different colors shining through.  I don’t believe in boxing myself in.  It limits my creativity.

I suppose if I had to choose a brand, it would be simply to expect the unexpected.  I also want my writing to make you think as well as entertain you, so that is a common thread throughout my words.

I feel like I’m still on a journey, and I invite readers to come along for the ride.  If I get branded along the way, then we can all dance a happy dance.  But for now….let’s just enjoy the ride.

Written by cherylawilliams

April 15, 2012 at 1:31 am

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Creating in Times of Little Inspiration

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There are times I find myself sitting around waiting to be inspired.  My best work is born of inspiration, whether it be writing or tackling a task around my house.  When I am feeling inspired, the work seems almost effortless.  It flows.  The words fall onto the page almost as if by magic.

And then come the times when there is no inspiration to be found.  These are the times that usually result in writer’s block for me.  These are the times that I find myself having to actually WORK.  There was a time when I would just give up during these periods.  I would lay my pen or computer down and just wait for the inspiration to come.  The end result was lots of waiting and no creating.

During this period I discovered that it is important to work through the times of little or no inspiration.  There is always something to do.  I can study. I can write something.  It doesn’t even have to be good.    I can read.  I can meet people and get ideas by just being a part of the universe.

I have also discovered that when I am not finding inspiration, it is often because I have boxed myself in.  As a result, I am failing to see the inspiration all around me.  Instead of music, I may see a beautiful piece of artwork if my eyes are opened to it.  Instead of listening for the laughter of a child, perhaps I need to look for the twinkle in the eye of an elderly person.  Inspiration is truly everywhere.  I block myself from finding it.

The creative process is just that…a process.  The more I understand that, the more my eyes are opened to the endless possibilities.  The more my eyes are opened to the inspiration that is all around me.

Be sure to follow me on Twitter!  https://twitter.com/#!/CherylAWilliams

If you enjoy reading flash fiction, check out my book for only .99!  http://www.amazon.com/Flash-Short-Story-Collection-ebook/dp/B0077T2FFK/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1333478547&sr=1-1

Written by cherylawilliams

April 3, 2012 at 6:43 pm

Finding God at Easter

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Today I had a conversation with someone close to me who is questioning the existence of God.  We had a long conversation, and it made me do a lot of  thinking.  How can I prove the existence of God to a non-believer?  The answer is simple.  I can’t.  Still, I know He is real as surely as I know that I am real.  It is quite frustrating.

The person I talked to used to believe in God.  Sadly, his church experiences have turned him off to God.   I wonder how often this happens.  Sadly, I’m afraid it happens more than we realize.  I read in the newspaper today that church attendence is down among teenagers and young adults.  I believe the reason is probably much the same as the reasons this young man gave to me.

I tried to explain to him that spirituality and religion are two different things.  One can be spiritual without being religious.  One of his main questions is that Christianity is so closed minded….believing that only Christians will be in Heaven.  He asked me what about Buddhists, Muslims, Hindu, or any of the many religions of the world who believe they are in tune with their Higher power, and doing all that they believe they need to be doing to get to Heaven.  What about those people who died long ago….or anyone who has never had the opportunity to even think or experience Christianity?  Is God going to keep them out of Heaven?

He also questioned the different religions and denominations who are always throwing stones at one another.  The Protestants and Catholics are always throwing darts.  Different denominations fuel over things such as accepting gays into the congregation.  Different denominations feud over things such as the rapture, communion (grape juice or wine), baptism by immersion or sprinkling, who will be the AntiChrist, how the world will end.

My response to him in asking all of this question was “Does any of that stuff really matter?”  I know that in my relationship with God, I focus on my relationship…period.  I don’t worry about church doctrine.  I don’t try and figure out all of the answers.  I don’t agree with everything I hear or read that the church says.  I even question some of what I read in the Bible.  That doesn’t mean it isn’t right.  It just means that it is beyond my understanding, and that’s okay.  When and if God wants to give me a greater understanding, He will.  The good news is that I don’t have to have a perfect understanding, or believe everything in order to have a relationship with God.  He is merciful.  He knows my limits, and He knows that I don’t understand it all.  He tells me “that’s okay”.

I think of  “Doubting Thomas”.  He doubted that Jesus rose from the dead.  Jesus did not condemn him for his lack of faith.  Instead He held out His hands and told Thomas to put his finger inside of his nail pierced hand.  In an instant, Thomas believed.

I wish I had all of the answers.  I wish I could pull out a hat filled with evidence of God’s existence, but I can’t.  All I can tell the doubter is to look around.  Look at the mountains.  Look at the ocean.  Listen to the laughter of a little child.  Feel the stirring in your soul when something touches you deep down inside.   Take some time to study nature…and look at the animals and insects.  Study their habits, their special characteristics.   Who but God could have created such beauty?

No, you can’t see God.  But you can’t see love either.  Still, it exists.  If it didn’t exist, people would not take such extreme measures to find it.  God IS love.  This I know.  I wish I could find a way to convey it….

 

Written by cherylawilliams

April 1, 2012 at 3:49 am

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