Flipped Thinking XXX - This is one of the hard parts I mentioned a while back

Beauty in Nature

So when I looked through my daughter, Jessica, the photographer's photos, of course I found some that she had taken of herself in a very special place. Sauvie Island, in Portland is an ancient place, full of Native American/First Peoples history, a place she would naturally be drawn to. She was drawn to it for many reasons.

As I read her journal entries I discovered to my distress that she had been severely depressed for several years. She never let it show, except with a couple of very close friends who understood and listened and stayed true to her.

She developed an unfortunately all to common symptom of trouble within the self, which is called "self-injury," and it involves a fascination with knives and sharp objects which are used to cut the skin. Many young people under too much pressure suffer this these days. We don't hear much about it.

She didn't like the idea of doing that to herself and in order to ameliorate it she started going to a nudist beach at Sauvie Island. We were close, and she told me lots of things, so I knew about Sauvie Island. She told me stories on the phone of the people she hung out with - elders who watched over her, told her the safe spots to spend time, people who'd play frisbee and walk and talk and be comfortable in their own skins without any sexual overtones. No drinking, no wild parties, no carrying on, just peaceful encounters in beautiful Nature. But she never told me why she went there.

She never told me about her depression. She never told me about the time she started carving on her skin with fingernail clippers or the times she would look at knives and want to use them against herself. I read about it in her journal entries when I inherited her computer. It was very hard to read about when it was too late to do anything to help her.

She only told me about going to Sauvie Island.

I worried like a mother does and trusted her to keep herself safe. And after she died of the sickness that stole all the strength from her body, losing 60 lbs she couldn't afford to lose, losing the strength in her legs so that I took care of her in a wheelchair and helped her do everything personal for the time I had her with me, when I came upon these photos I understood. This was her grace. This was her sanctuary. This was her safe place.

The sickness she had, Guillian Barré, probably triggered by Lyme gone undiagnosed or treated for several years, often kicks in severe depression.

When I discovered these photos in her collection it made my heart sing to see her so strong, and it flipped my thinking. In her journal entries she wrote that she chose to go to Sauvie Island so that she would not cut herself because she didn't want her friends there to see the marks. So in her view, it was a place of refuge and safety, from the biggest demons we ever face, which are those within.

Beauty and tranquility.

The message here is that what I saw/thought/felt as a mother got flipped after what I learned after her passing - what I worried about was not the thing to worry about. She had found a way to safety through sweet people who are close to nature and hanging it loose, hey it was Portland.

What I learned is NOT to judge, ever. Not to place my own fears and concerns onto another person because I do not know their perspective. Not even my own daughter who was so close with me (ah, such a teacher she was), but she was also her own independent, grown-up person, and she protected me to a great extent from what she knew I'd worry about. The deeper things. Things she feared I'd step in to try to correct. She found her way and her body was unmarred.

Peace and safety.

My little bird soaring in her power. So beautiful.

Determination.

I do not know if she knew she was dying when she had these photos done. But I'm so glad she had them done. They are too beautiful not to share. They are the celebration of natural beauty and life itself in the face of adversity.

Fly. 

She is gone now. And I feel she would want me to share her message.

Celebrate yourself. Fly. Don't let the bastards get you down.

I am sssssooooo glad she had these moments.

I have asked for her permission to share these very personal photos and insights. She will glitch the computer if she doesn't want them to be shared. xo

For anyone who has this trouble, self-injury, try some really good counseling, or if that's not for you, try a nudist beach. Most of them are generally a whole lot more wholesome than one would imagine, especially in France.

I will also mention that I have a close friend whose daughter had this problem - I hope it's resolved now, I haven't heard from her more about it. It is more common than you would imagine, and happens in the very best of families. Be kind, be kind.

Namaste,
Jen