Beauty Without Blood

My mom always told me that she suff ered more than I did because I’m her child, and it hurt her to see me suff er. I always wondered how she could say that. She wasn’t the one locked up in mental hospitals on birthdays and holidays, or the one who felt life was so horrible that death seemed like the only solution. You were not the victim—I was. What I didn’t know was that when a family member has a mental illness, everyone was the victim. But, over the years, I became a survivor and was no longer a victim. I transformed my “woe is me” perspective and triumphed over my mental illness. I said good-bye to being isolated and withdrawn and feeling sorry for myself. I became resilient and strong. Victims can grow as people through obstacles and learn from life experiences. Th ey can see painful moments as opportunities to grow and shine, and they can love life as much as I do now. First, victims need to seek help. Victims can embrace the beauty of life. I believe even painful moments in our lives are beautiful. All the pain I went through opened my heart so I could love myself. I love my family and my friends and all the people who helped me along the way. I am grateful to the psychiatrists, case managers, therapists, support group facilitators, and peers. I’m grateful for my medications that keep me sane and stable. I’m
grateful for the help I received from the Los Angeles County Department of Mental Health where I went as a client for over a decade. With all the support I receive in my life now, I am in mental health recovery. I love every moment of life, even the painful ones that make me the person I am today. And I didn’t do it alone. I had a vast amount of support and help. My journey through mental health was very painful. Mental illness didn’t only aff ect me. It aff ected my loved ones. Th ere was actually a sad point in my life where I had resentment toward my mother and eldest brother, Jacob. I thought they didn’t understand me. I was always calling 911 when I was suicidal. Th e paramedics and police already knew the house of the Estradas. Jacob would yell out to my little niece and nephew, who were fi ve and three years old, “Kids go to the garage!” Th en he would yell, “Mari, you’re scaring the kids!” Back then, I was too selfi sh to care that I was scaring kids. I got angry with Jacob for not understanding and for not being patient with me. I didn’t know that it was just too much for him and my entire family. Th ey dealt with my mental illness the best way they could. Jacob would get frustrated and say, “What are the neighbors going to think?” I thought, Who cares what the neighbors think! I want to die and the Changs are our only neighbors. We live on a private street. Who cares what the neighbors think! I want to die! My second youngest brother, Junior, was always the most understanding. He has always been there to support me and be there for me in all my struggles.My sister, Rosa, has always showed patience and unconditional love. She didn’t yell at me and just made me feel cared for. My sister, Catherine, wasn’t around a lot during those painful moments. She was raising

her own family. She never visited me at the hospital, and I don’t blame her. It was just too much for her, simply too much. It was too painful to watch her little sister suff er. My mother has never left my side. She has always nurtured and loved me unconditionally, with all her heart, and never gave up on me. It wasn’t only my battle, but my family’s as well, especially my mother. My family didn’t put me in a board and care or an institute for mental disease. Th ey just loved me. Over the years, the resentment I had towards my mom turned into an abundance of unconditional love. She raised me to be a strong Catholic, and although my faith in God was a rollercoaster, much like my life, I realized that he wasn’t trying to punish or curse me by giving me a mental illness. His plans were far greater. God’s plan was to make me stronger and more faithful and to build me up so high that I could never falter, even at my weakest moments. God will always love me, even when I yell at him and blame him for every misfortune in my life. Even when I called God bullshit, he was always there, and always will be. He will be with me through kingdom come, which will come in God’s time and with God’s will. Kingdom come won’t come by suicide. I often found myself overdosing while writing on my Bible, “Dear God, forgive me for killing myself. Please take me to heaven with you. I don’t want to hurt anymore.” I would then overdose and give up. I didn’t know back then that all that hurt could be eased away. I didn’t know when trying to kill myself that life could be beautiful, amazing, worthwhile, and full of hope. I didn’t know that every time I fell, I could just get up from the fl oor, even when I was dying and bleeding. I could get up and fi ght: fi ght for my life and fi ght through mental illness! I needed to learn to never give up and to keep going on! It was so exhausting at times! I would think, Come on, Mari, get up! Get up every time you have an episode. Get up after every 5150.
Get up when the days are so dark that you feel as if the sun is black! Get up, Mari! Th e angels sing every time you get up! Th ey sing praises that you are alive and healthy. God holds you in his wings of glory! Mari, get up! Stop cussing at God! You’re a survivor, a warrior! And so every time I fell, I got up, and you better believe it was painful, but I did it! I did it because I learned to love my family, my friends, my life, my God, and myself! I didn’t know then that my life would be a journey of faith and mental health recovery. Th is is a poem I wrote after my last suicide attempt. Beauty without Blood Beauty without blood Depression without suicide A day where I don’t want to overdose I would like to call that day happy I hate that my moods are unpredictable I don’t know how I will feel tomorrow Depression is a demon inside Beauty without blood Heaven without hell Th e archangel rejoices when he smashes the devil’s head Liberation from depravity Is what I hope for every day. Dear God, please help me I don’t want to hate the woman within I don’t want to murder her every day Suicide is not a game So every day that I wake up in darkness When the sun is black And I cry myself through another day I think of beauty without blood

Life without pain In heaven, there is no depression In heaven, our souls will no longer hurt Th at is why I pray to God. Take me to heaven, Lord, I don’t want to hurt anymore Today I woke up And the angels were singing I didn’t wake up in darkness Th e sun was not black I woke up in light I pray it stays that way Because beauty without blood Is true happiness I wrote that poem after I realized that surviving the worst suicide was only the beginning of my beautiful life. Th ere is no more blood in my soul, but only beauty—majestic beauty. I’m mesmerized by the sky, the heavens, the sun piercing through the sky. I love sunsets and sunrises. I love it when the sky looks purple and blue as the sun rises, and I begin a new day. I’m always taking pictures of the sky. Th ere is always a new day and a new light awaiting me, and if something bad happens today, tomorrow I can start over. I learned to appreciate the simple things of life, like waking up each day as the sun gleams through my window. I appreciate my warm cup of coff ee each morning. I appreciate that I have a good stable job at the Los Angeles County Department of Mental Health where I have been working for four years. I have received two big promotions and have not been on state disability during my career at DMH. I appreciate that DMH has interviewed me on television and radio. I dedicate my life to helping others. I appreciate that I’m doing well fi nancially, and I no longer use coff ee for milk for my cereal. I can aff ord to buy healthy food, go
out to dinner, shop for Eva Mendes dresses and clothes at New York & Company, and pay the rent on my beautiful apartment. I love enjoying my success. Although I am doing better fi nancially, I’m still humble. I still shop at the 99 Cents Only Store because I love that store. I give to the homeless and needy. I give from my heart. I can face life daily, knowing that I’m strong enough to face my challenges. I appreciate my life, and I’m so incredibly proud of myself. I go to work every day, and I am no longer a disability now that I have discovered my abilities to be successful. I am able to have strong and healthy relationships with family, friends, and loved ones. I am able to get up stronger than ever after every episode and manage all my symptoms. I am able to enjoy life, art, music, and laughter, even laughing attacks. I love going to mass and talking Father John’s ear off  during confession. I see it as a personal, mini-therapy session. I love God! I love myself! I love my life! I thank God for blessing me with this beautiful mental illness for it is a gift that has made me stronger. It has made my life more meaningful and worthwhile. Th ere is life after depression, and it is absolutely beautiful. Th rough the thunder, I found hope through prayer. God will guide me every step of the way, soothe my tears, and shed light on my shadow of depression. I never want to stop believing in love. I never want to stop hoping. I believe now that love like that only comes from God. He will always love me unconditionally, manic or depressed, gay or straight. God loves me just the same. I stare into the rays of the sun, feeling as though they are the glare from God’s eyes. Power this divine, majesty this great, and love this profound only comes from God. If tonight I die, tomorrow I live. Th at is the philosophy of my life. If something catastrophic happens today, tomorrow I can start over. I look forward to the brilliant light of a new tomorrow each day, even when I walk in darkness.

God uplifts the soul of those in sorrow. Bipolar disorder might be forever, but you will never fi nd sorrow in eternity. You will not fi nd depression in heaven. I cannot fear my own thoughts for the rest of my life. I cannot be timid and afraid. I cannot allow bipolar disorder to kill the aspirations I have for a beautiful life. I fi nally discovered the beauty of life. Beauty isn’t in expensive things or having a lot of money. You cannot buy beauty. You cannot buy faith. Beauty comes from within. Beauty comes from God. Beauty comes from the soul. Beauty is in the people who live by grace. Beauty is in life without blood. Slowly, I crawled out of the land of the dead. Everything in my world was dark and gloomy. I had no passion, no desire to live. I didn’t feel strong enough to get through each day. Th e beauty in me was becoming a rotting corpse. My dreams were plagued by depression. I struggled to climb out of depravity and to dig myself out of the dirt. I prevailed at last. My destiny wasn’t in the hands of suicide. God pulled me out of the coffi  n I threw myself in. I got out of the deep, hollow casket and inhaled the refreshing crisp air of a new tomorrow. Yesterday, there was darkness—today, I will live again.