Sunday, May 31, 2009

Depression Hurts


So, about my mental health. Invega, my anti-psychotic, was causing me to become extremely light headed and dizzy to the point of nearly loosing conscience during my shift at Cracker Barrel on Wednesday. When I called patient advisory at Carle Hospital I was told that I need to lay down and elevate my legs eight inches above my heart or sit with my head between my knees for a few minutes. I knew I had a six hour shift ahead of me and I was very scared because at that time I thought that I was developing diabetes which is a rare but serious side effect. Because I am already black and overweight, two risk factors in, I know that it is a higher possibility for me.

When I told my manager, she was upset and asked, "Well what do you want me to do Shamika, do you want me to take you off the schedule or what? Cause I mean, I'm not mad or anything its just if you leave I have to find someone to cover the floor. We are running a business here. I have been here since 8 o'clock this morning and I have to pick up my daughter right now..." At that point the combination of fright and dizzy made the tears spring to my eyes faster than I could put them in check so when I responded with, "Well the nurse said I could sit with my head between my knees for five minutes..." it came out garbled and strained a little. She quickly and simply turned around and sighed, "I will just start calling people to see who can cover you and you just let me know if you want me to take you off of the schedule."

My psychiatrist was able to let me know the next day that I can stop taking Invega. Now, I have to deal with the thoughts in my head, the visions no one else can see out of the corner of my eye, and the fear at night of the dark and what lurks within it. Thanks Lisa, by the way, for the lamp. I use it and your stuffed mouse every night. ^_^

I have also really settled into the depressed phase. My therapist pointed out that I was moving slower, she had a fancy term for it something like psycho-something motion, and I admitted that I noticed it too. I am more sensitive to people, easily offended, and ready to cry more than I usually am. I also have less energy to do things, especially work. Whereas before I would get up from a nap and bike across town to work for 7 hours now I am sleeping or wanting to sleep all during the day and trying to avoid all the excuses I have saved up to call in to work.

When Shay called to talk to me today, as she usually does, while I was babysitting, I was short with her and my tone of voice was almost annoyed. It was very obvious that I was not myself. She finally asked me, "Have you set up an appointment to talk to Bishop Gwin?" "Talk to Bishop Gwin? Talk to him about what?" Which I am sure came out as a bark. "You just don't seem like yourself and I don't know what medication they took you off of but maybe he can help."

I am scared. I am frustrated. Often I feel lonely. But, most of the time, I am surrounded by friends and well-wishers. I enjoy my church life, fellowshiping and spending time with people I met at the church, my friends and co-workers from Cracker Barrel and State Farm, reading, biking around, knitting, watching documentaries and Biblical Movies from the library, and planning for my bright, have to wear shades, future.

Bike Rides of Semi-Shame and More Cake


So I was finally tempted.

After a month of living within my purity pledge, I was faced with an old flame so to speak. Not Matt or B, or even that older guy that claimed to live and work from a hotel room in town. This was the young man that convicted me to end the foolishness, Alex.

I needed to vent to someone about the changing situation with my living situation. Shay's food stamps have been reduced since she is now working and one of her baby daddys is out of work and she is no longer getting his child support. Financially frustrated, she initiated a conversation about me needing to help out. "We need to come up with a figure for you" were her words. I already knew about her food situation but it wasn't until she made dinner one night and simply didn't include my portion that I realized something shifted and things had changed. So I offered to buy my own food. I had sort of done that last week when I returned the swim suit I would have used at Cheri's pool party and used the money for fruit and snacks. Her kids ate a lot of my fruit and some of my pudding snacks. She agreed that that would help, me buying my food, and that she would talk to her kids about not eating my stuff.

Then she went on to say that me buying my own food would not be enough to help because her power bill went up and gas went up. I told her that I don't know how much the Illinois Child Care Program will pay me for the Saturdays that I am babysitting for her but I can just give her that check every month. Her last babysitter quit on her because she found out after a few weeks that she would only be getting paid for the Saturdays and not the Mondays and Tuesdays. My concern is that I lost 18 hours at $9 an hour and knitting on Saturdays to help her out and I thought it would be temporary. It does not seem as though I will be alleviated of my duties after June when she becomes a full time employee from her current seasonal position. I have no idea what will happen in the future, but I do have my own goals and dreams and watching her children seems like it is quickly becoming a hindrance.

Now, I know I am living here for free. She offered to let me stay here instead of me moving back to San Antonio and said I wouldn't have to worry about food or rent. Well, her pecuniary situation has changed dramatically and the reality of the situation has settled in. Now, she is changing the conditions under which I can stay. Because her babysitting circumstances have fallen under my responsibility, I feel like I have become a nanny in exchange for living here. I have been asked to wash the dishes daily, I do laundry regularly, and of course there is the watching of the kids. I don't mind buying my own food. I don't even mind giving up potentially $200 a month to help her out, but I really want and will probably soon need my Saturdays back.

I suggested to her that she may want to start looking for someone else to take over the babysitting for me and she stated matter of factly that there simply was no one else. I offered the suggestion of asking around at the church and she shot that one down as well claiming that no one would want to come here and watch all of her kids and she doesn't really know and trust that many people. I do not want to still be babysitting when I move out of here into my own apartment. I know she needs help, and she is helping me greatly, and I do not want her to misunderstand my appreciation and gratitude, but my therapist agreed that my attitude of helping someone if I can always has to have some boundaries. I have to draw a line.


I said all of that to say that I wanted to talk to someone about it and decided to talk to Alex. None of my other friends had been responding lately and I knew he was online and we talked while I went to Meijer and picked up $23 worth of groceries which took about 2 hours. My mom had to help talk me through a few ideas and get my cart down to a much more financially manageable size. He suggested that we hang out sometime, I suggested that I was free then, so he offered to make me something to eat. But of course, like EVERY SINGLE MAN that I have ever been involved with, including Stephen, he does not have a car. Well, that's not true, Matt had a truck. But Matt has a match.com girlfriend now and wants me to return his bike before I leave town. ANYWAY, I had to bike to Alex's apartment. He made me a sandwich and it started off as talking.

Once I finished my sandwich, he wanted me to sit next to him. He became very touchy, arm around my shoulders, "smoothly" holding my hand, sitting very close. I mean, he might as well of yawned and stretched and grabbed my boobs. I was being cold and unreceptive and finally called him out about his advances. We both admitted that the last time we were together left us feeling awkward so neither wanted to contact the other. However, we then spent about an hour going into a debate about entering into a friends with benefits relationship. I told him, in several different ways, that I wanted to share myself physically with someone that I was in a committed and monogamous relationship with and it simply would not be special to just make out with someone and have lines we didn't cross and so forth.

He argued that I wouldn't be starting a serious relationship in Champaign, that we were more comfortable with each other now, that I was really good the first time around, yeah like flattery will get you anywhere but he went on anyway, and humans have urges that are natural blah blah blah. This is already an atheist, lives with his ex-girlfriend who left him to be with another man, a guy who is not in the market for a serious relationship (oooh have I heard that one before only to see the guy in a serious committed monogamous relationship weeks later with someone else *cough**Matt**cough**), and admits to be honest that he was hoping that I would stay the night and rock the casbah.

I was prepared to ride my bike home, similar to the times I went to Bs prepared to take the last bus from Lincoln Square home. I was getting sleepy and my proclamations of being a rock, not a glacier, were getting weaker and weaker. I told him that I did not want to have sex with him. And he holds me closer and whispers something sweet into my ear. Of course, I made the rookie mistake of admitting that I hadn't been looking him in the face all evening because I knew if I did I would kiss him, so he kept looking at me and eventually just started kissing me.

So we're on the floor going at it, clothes on, and I am like, geez Shamika, you are riding a fine line. The still small voice was in my ears and I kept seeing my ring and cross and knew that I had put myself in a tricky situation to begin with and the night naturally culminated into what I knew it would. We did not thankfully have sex, mostly because I had been to the STD clinic just the day before to get tested because of all the unprotected sex I had had over the past few months and the message from the nice Nigerian nurse (lovely alliteration!) rang loud and clear in my head. He got off, I didn't. I didn't have time to even nap there because Saturdays Shay has to be at work at 7am so I had to be back in the house before she woke up. So I left a little after 5am, not necessarily feeling guilty because we didn't go all the way, but certainly not feeling pure, feeling as though I once again compromised, and wondering how I let myself keep in contact with someone I was supposed to have cut off like B and Matt and whomever else lingered in my phone or online like a sticky residue to my new squeaky clean endeavors in life.

But enough about that! Just today I found out that a co-worker and new friend Elise was leaving Champaign, IL for Bloomington, IL for school this week and was having a going away shindig at a local bar Jupiters. I got off of work at 11pm and another co-worker Erin, she had baked two cakes and brought chips to the break room earlier for everyone, lived close to me so she dropped me at home so I could change then we went together. Most of the other people there were co-workers and drunk. We hung out, at some of the specialty pizza, I lost a game of pool, then she left teary eyed as she said goodbye. Again, the guys (all Mexican and all from work I believe) were flirting with the skinny girls and Elise but she was dressed in hooker boots, hot pants, and a top with a belt over it. I once again felt that I was not attractive, my self esteem seemed to not reflect how the small world in which I live sees me. I had to just let it roll off my shoulders when the girls were being talked to, written on, yes written on, and invited to share bar stools. I waved goodbye while they were given long hugs and partial salsa dances. No one hugged me but Elise.

At any rate, I am looking up. Something has been delaying my plans lately to file the paperwork for dissolution of marriage, but the situation will be resolved in a timely fashion and I will not spend the rest of my young days in limbo married to an incommunicable person. I am not so much compromising as editing my thinking about dating and courting and wondering about what I will do if I end up a single woman while in Champaign. I clearly need to stay away from guys on Craigslist. I would like to get to know Christian men and I am excited about the idea of started a relationship with a Christian guy. Spending time with that person, getting to know them, getting to know all about them (gold stars to those who picked up on that reference*) Playful flirting, hand holding, cuddling during movies, kisses goodnight. I hesitate to say "casual" dating, but I do feel as though there is a foundation of experience that I am lacking and the path in which I find myself is a poor one to build upon with the internet dating and such.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Memorial Day

Thank you to all who have given their lives for our freedoms. Whether or not you believe in the government, the politicians, or even your fellow citizens, surely it is not a point to argue that the service men and women both who have fallen and who still fight are worthy of our support.


Enjoy this day in remembrance of them.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

What WOULD Jesus Do?

The Pharisees tried to trip Jesus up and asked him when a man should divorce. Here is what Jesus said:

Matthew 19: 4"Haven't you read," he replied, "that at the beginning the Creator 'made them male and female,'a]">[a] 5and said, 'For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh'b]">[b]? 6So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate."

Paul says:

1 Corinthians 7:13And if a woman has a husband who is not a believer and he is willing to live with her, she must not divorce him. 14For the unbelieving husband has been sanctified through his wife, and the unbelieving wife has been sanctified through her believing husband. Otherwise your children would be unclean, but as it is, they are holy.

15But if the unbeliever leaves, let him do so. A believing man or woman is not bound in such circumstances; God has called us to live in peace. 16How do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or, how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Good Mourning India Arie


Good morning silence
Good morning to myself

Good morning to the pain in the center of my chest

It's crazy how much I miss
a simple good morning kiss
oh ohhhhh~

Good mourning independence or is it loneliness?
I know I said I wanted this but I have regrets

I pray for God's will to be done
The very next day you were gone
Oh Ohhhhhh

Good mourning to the harsh realities of life
and good mourning to the fact we're not husband and wife

We made a promise to stay
But destiny got in the way
oh ohhhhhhhh

Good mourning~~~~

Good morning acceptance
Good morning inner strength
I'm loving every moment
even the strain

It's crazy how much I miss
a simple good morning kiss
It's crazy how much I've missed
Now it's time for me to live
oh ohhhhhhhhhh

Good mourning~~~~

Good morning optimism
Good morning to my faith
Good morning to the beginning of a brand new day

I know that God's will be done
So I lay down my pain and I'm moving on

I know that God's will be done.
So it's a good morning after all

Firehaus


Drunk people are

crazy
funny
loud
clumsy
crass
bold
slutty


and the list would go on, but I don't care to learn any more about the character of those too inebriated to carry on intellectual conversation.

So I get a text message yesterday evening around six or seven pm about a birthday party for a co-worker, Raul, from another co-worker, Elise. The guy was turning 21 and we were going to meet up at a bar called Firehaus to celebrate. I had never been there before, but I was eager to get out of the house and decided that it would be worth going to college town and being around young drunk co-eds for a night away from babysitting and reading. I didn't necessarily want to get wasted or anything, I mean I am on medication anyway, but that has never been my scene.

I walk there once Shay gets back from bible study after i watched Shy and was the second person there. Mike, a co-worker, was already there and drinking. When I first met him, he struck me as someone who harbored a lot of anger and negative feelings but worked in a job in which he had to suppress them. Evan, you guessed it, another co-worker, then showed up and Mike bought him a beer. Evan is kind of cute, looks like Stephen, but when I asked Loneisha about him a few weeks ago, she told me, "Oh, no, you don't wanna go there. He broke up with Cheri because she wouldn't sleep with him." Now, I am not a huge gossip person, but that account made it very clear to me that I would be careful not to be too friendly with this one.

It took an hour before the host of the party and the birthday boy to get there. She had a chocolate cake homemade from scratch. Cheri and I danced when the DJ first set up and it was fun having the frat boys cat call my skills. I doubt they had ever seen someone that close breakin it down on the dance floor. More people showed up, more beers flowed. I ordered a basket of fries and used the $3.50 Belau gave me for buying him ice cream when me and Douglas went to walmart the other night. Belau is Shay's friend and I met Douglas at the bipolar support group. He helped me get the crisis stabilization appointment.

Anyway, Mike started to dance with us, aka Cheri, and eventually made it painfully and awkwardly clear that he wanted to have sex with Cheri people be damned. He was kissing her kneck, hand on her butt, other hand on her bra strap and drunk as all get out. I was able to rescue her, had to try and maneuver my way between them so he wouldn't keep bothering her trying to get her to leave with him. He asked her to give him a ride home, but when we left he slurred, "Am I gonna give you a ride now?" Elise left, Raul kept saying he didn't want to dance until another girl showed up. I didn't catch her name, but like Cheri, she was slender and good looking and he definitely wanted to dance with her.

I don't know, I guess I will never get danced with at a party. All the time and effort I have put into becoming a good dancer at parties has done nothing for getting me a dance partner. I remember the two parties I went to while at Stanford. One was with a fellow camper visiting the campus. He asked me to get him some beer, I hesitated but yielded to try and be cool then took him to a black party. He danced with me. That was fun. The second party, I got there way early, hung out with the guy who was going to dj because we were friends. Then once the party got started, there were too many other good looking girls there to compete with so I just walked home. Alone. I believe at the time Stephen was either at work or simply didn't want to go because he didn't dance and it was like pulling teeth to get him to do so.

So flash forward to last night. I saw the guys dancing with Cheri and the other chic that I was hanging out with, asking to dance mere moments before, and I had to deal with the dejection in my heart. I was taken back to the high school drama club dance that I got turned down to dance during "I Like Big Butts" because of my rear-ended rear end. I did see a black guy being "the black person" in his group dancin it up so when the Cupid Shuffle came on I danced with them and that was fun. Mike, in an attempt to shove another drink at Cheri, spilled beer on my jeans. I had to rinse them off in the restroom. He got some beer on my phone, but it still works... so far.

If I learned anything last night, its that I only want to go out if the focus is not on alcohol. Everyone DROVE HOME!!! Droves of students spilled into the streets at two am and most drove off into the night. Buzzed driving is drunk driving and most of them were drunk. Evan left early, we tried to get him not to drive, but he got upset and since he is the guy Cheri is trying to get over there was some extra drama there. Then, after Cheri got me home, we sat in her car for an hour and talked.

She gave me the skinny on her and Evan. He actually didn't want to take her virginity. She is 23, had a very sheltered life, and was about to give it to him, and he THANKFULLY decided to end things right there. He admitted that he was using her feelings to get what he wanted. During this talk, I shared my testimony about how I too was afraid I would be alone and wouldn't find anyone and spent months and even years in some cases holding on to the feelings I had over a relationship long dead. I told her because it was her first relationship, her feelings were valid and real, but that it was time to let it go and give it God. He would be able to heal her and prepare her for the next, prayerfully better, relationship.

I finally made it into the house and onto the couch by about 3:45am. Shay wakes me up at 10:15 am and asks me to watch the girls because she needs to pick up a few things at the store. I had to wake up, fold up the blankets, and started some oatmeal to take my medication...oops which I still haven't taken....hold on....alright back and medicated X-)

We ran errands, I came back and took a long bath and used the awesome stuff that Elaine Parker, my twin sister in Christ got me when we hung out yesterday after bible study. It was storming and flooding yesterday morning. I had my therapy session then swam to the library to return some books, do some bible study, then look into some scholarships. After bible study, we went to Target, Sally's and the Dollar Tree. She bought me bath stuff, stationary, and some Jose Ole Chimichangas and I bought some oil for my locs, deoderant and band aids. Had I not got that text, or if I didn't have to babysit at the last minute, I would have tried it last night. But I was glad to have the leisure to listen to my music and soak, though I couldn't do so properly so I had to soak on my sides then on my back, and since I was still sore from all the dancing forwent the soaking on my front.

Shay and Belau went to run some errands and I went to pick up my check from Cracker Barrel. I missed the bus and decided to walk to get my daily exercise. After Lincoln and Bradley, I got to a country road next to Busey woods and the graveyard and golf course. A guy in a car pulls up next to me and says, "Hey baby, you okay? Do you need a ride?" It was a young black guy, not ghetto but not corporate. Either way, I would never accept a ride from a guy. So I declined and said I was almost there. I enjoyed the walk next to the trees, snapped some great phone pics, and pray/talked with God about Stephen, my decision about leaving for San Antonio or not, and the idea that my calling may involve ministry and counseling after last night's talk with Cheri. I felt, man, you never know when you are going to need to give someone a word. You have to always be prepared!

After I got off the path in the woods and back on the road, the trees on the side of the road dispersed and the bright sun met me once again. Just then, another car with a young black woman pulled up. She had seen me earlier walking past Lincoln and Bradley and offered me a ride. Cheri had called and text me to let me know she was eating, alone, at Cracker Barrel already and I was planning on meeting her. I thanked the woman and told her that I prayed God bless her tenfold for her kindness. Cheri and I talked briefly and she is going to pick me back up when she gets off and we are going to get "He's Just Not That Into You" and watch it at her place. She told me that the conversation we had helped me to open her eyes and she did pray that God take it away, all of it, her feelings and emotions and thoughts about him to help her move on.

I was so encouraged when she told me that. I now believe that the calling on my life does deal with young people and relationships. In junior high, I thought about being a relationship psychiatrist, then a child and adolescent psychologist. Since then, the majority of careers I have seriously wanted to pursue have centered around helping people in some way. With the Christian author/speaker, I can counsel and minister to hundreds of people at a time in a book, magazine or newspaper article, or talk. I can achieve postgraduate degrees both from a seminary and a phD in something that makes sense at the time to pursue.

I feel like I haven't updated in a while, I guess I will have to strive for more than once a week then. But yeah, that's everything basically that's going on. Stephen sent me a text yesterday morning after I called and text him the night before and earlier that morning saying he was at work then and we would talk that night. I txt him asking what time and since then haven't heard from him and he hasn't responded to my calls or texts. The usual.

Oh! I am going to fast next week starting on Sunday. No cell phone, computer, television, movies, newspapers, extra books, nothing! Only my bible and prayer life. I want to get closer to God and really seek His face about me and Stephen, the issue with San Antonio, and my calling. I may need to do it for longer than a week, but I plan on starting for a week and seeing where God leads me. Cheri said she would do it with me. I pray that my first fasting experience is fruitful and that I gain the answers to the questions I am raising.

God bless.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Negro National Anthem by James Weldon Johnson


Lift every voice and sing,
till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.


Sing a song full of the faith that the
dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
let us march on till victory is won.


Stony the road we trod,
bitter the chastening rod,
felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
yet with a steady beat,
have not our weary feet
come to the place
for which our fathers died?


We have come over a way that with tears have been watered,
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
out from the gloomy past,
till now we stand at last
where the white gleam
of our bright star is cast.


God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
thou who hast brought us thus far on the way;
thou who hast by thy might led us into the light,
keep us forever in the path, we pray.


Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee;
lest our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee,
shadowed beneath thy hand,
may we forever stand,
true to our God,
true to our native land.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Love


...so that when we finally step out of the boat
toward them, we find
everything holds
us, and confirms
our courage, and if you wanted to drown you could, but you don't

because finally
after all the struggle
and all the years,
you don't want to any more.
you've simply had enough of downing and you want to live and you want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness,
however fluid and however
dangerous, to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.

David Whyte "The Truelove"


I thought that hand was Stephen's. For weeks, months, I have been in limbo with him. Fought it, cried over it, ignored it, accepted it, rejected it, talked about it, prayed about it, debated and argued about it, defended it, hated it.

Now, I am strong. Not necessarily stronger than yesterday. ;) A different kind of strength runs through my weary heart these days. It is a hope and a resolve. It isn't a come what may, because its not that I no longer care about what happens to me romantically. I have simply yielded the desires of my heart to my Lord. Since He already knows, in His infinite wisdom and omniscience, not only what will happen but what will be best for me, I have simply resolved myself to allow Him complete carte blanche.

I first heard that terms years ago used in sophisticated conversation, then in the recent past over the summer living alone during a Wishbone episode about either the Three Musketeers or the book about the ugly Frenchman with the big nose and fantastic wit who helped a handsome young man get the girl he actually loved. At any rate, I learned what it meant then. Its french for blank paper and simply means you have permission to do as you please.

I go back and forth, at least once a week, in my darkness of not knowing what, or who, Stephen may or may not be doing and decide, with a made up heart, one way or the other. I want to stay put, stand firm, step out, simply give up. My friends and family want what's best for me, and waiting for a word from my husband during our separation is not what they feel is best. There are MILITARY WIVES who hear from their husbands more than me. There are ...no, I am not going to go there. Listing the numerous other women who have understandably extenuating circumstances but still have communication with their husbands.

My point is, everyone says I am intelligent, beautiful, gorgeous smile, and deserve a husband who appreciates that. Its no longer a question of Stephen not being Christian or college educated or employed or supporting himself with transportation and his own place. At this point, he is simply not treating me with respect. At least the guys that just wanted to get in my pants would drop me a line every once in a while! I mean, let's get real. If I wanted a lay, I know guys. But I no longer, and honestly never really, want that. If I wanted a date, I could go onto craigslist right now and respond to ads or put one up and have one by Wednesday if not tonight. But that is not where I have had success and healthy suitors or real gentleman.

I want a husband (clearly Stephen has chosen to forgo his title in everything but name). Which means I need to start with a friend. I have to be in a space mentally, emotionally, and spiritually in which I can handle a relationship that may lead to marriage. Until my divorce is final, I won't bother dating or looking for new guy friends. I don't need them. I won't run from them if they come to me, but believe me, its a RARITY if they do. Once the decision is made and final, it will most likely be a while before I feel I have grasped the finality of the divorce and the end of a future life with someone I love..d... :-S

Bah! Humbug!! I am going to play American Idol for the Wii and accept my nannyhood and enjoy my days off. I will update again soon.


Love and be loved people.

Shamika's Profile written by Landom Cassman


1
During her third year as a student at Stanford University, Shamika Goddard had trouble distinguishing what was real from what was not.
“I thought I was in an alternate universe,” Goddard said. “I thought I was in some part of hell that I stumbled into, and I had to get out. I thought that if I could get out of this area, I can get back to Earth. From my perspective, when I was looking at the sun and the moon, I was looking at Earth.”
A few months into her spring semester in 2006, Goddard experienced her first psychotic episode. The episode was so intense that it required her to take a leave of absence from the university to receive mental health treatment. Though she presented herself as a very happy and friendly person, which she said she generally is, there was also a sadness that came along with her having to leave a school that she loved.
Goddard was diagnosed with a form of mental illness called Bipolar I (1) Disorder in 2007. Since being diagnosed, every aspect of her life has been centered around understanding her disorder and living with it day-by-day. She uses her keen intellect and insatiable curiosity, which helped in her acceptance to Stanford, to learn all she can about the disease she is up against.
Shamika La Shawn Walker Goddard was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. Her mother, Mary Elaine Childs, had Shamika while she was in high school with a man Shamika had only met once in her life.
“The one time I met him,” Shamika said, referring to her biological father, “was when I was 16; I needed his name for my acceptance to Stanford. He gave me $20 and that’s the last time I saw him.”
After her mother graduated high school, she got married and had three more children. Shamika recalled being made to feel inferior by her siblings for having a different father than them, upsetting her to the point where she often felt suicidal. She disliked being at home and became dedicated to her schoolwork and a multitude of extra curricular activities in order to break away from the anxiety-inducing atmosphere.
“I was involved in a whole lot of things,” Goddard said. “That played a large part in me being able to get into Stanford. I was very energetic and able to juggle lots of activities. I was a goody two-shoes.”
While in high school, she excelled in academics and outside of the classroom managed to be the head of a choir for both the school and the church, a member of the drama team, the math team, the spelling team, poetry club, and dedicated herself to the church by teaching Sunday school and leading Bible study.
While she felt targeted by her siblings at home, she also often felt insecure in school despite her many achievements.
“Growing up, I was depressed and pretty sensitive,” Goddard said. “I had low self esteem and got very jealous of prettier girls.”
Goddard, a black woman who has struggled with her weight from a young age, used her vibrant personality and sociability to counteract the low self-confidence she had concerning her appearance.
“I was a social chameleon,” Goddard said. “I was able to hang out with the black kids, and then I was able to go and hang out with the white kids. I wanted to be the nicest person that everyone knew. But I found that when you’re too nice like that, it’s hard to find someone to depend on when you need something.”
Dating and parties were out of the question for Goddard. Her mother enforced rules to ensure that her daughter did not make the same mistake she had made of becoming pregnant while she was in high school. Even though her mother had graduated high school after having a child, Goddard respects her mother for following through with school and knows how hard it must have been for her.
“But the one party that my mom did let me go to,” Goddard said, “I was really scared. She made sure that I had a chaperone, but I felt like I didn’t know what to do there. I wasn’t drinking and I really just wanted to go home.”
Goddard’s insecurities played a part in her getting married to her husband during her second year at Stanford. She said that many were upset with her for marrying him, telling her she could have done much better.
“I figured that I was able to find someone who wanted me,” Goddard said, “and I didn’t want to risk losing that. I know that my family doesn’t care much for him, and I’m beginning to realize that I maybe should have listened to them originally.”
At the beginning of her second year at Stanford in 2007, Shamika and Stephen Lloyd Goddard married in San Antonio, where they both grew up together. The two later moved into an apartment together on campus. In February, Shamika's first symptoms of mania became apparent.
“Basically the months prior to being diagnosed (with Bipolar I),” Goddard said, “I was sleeping less, working more, and at the same time, had a lot of energy and was bouncing off the walls.”
The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM IV), the manual used by psychiatric professionals to diagnose mental disorders, distinguishes Bipolar I Disorder within a person if they had experienced one or more manic episodes. The National Institute of Mental Health describes the illness as, “a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks. Symptoms of bipolar disorder are severe. They are different from the normal ups and downs that everyone goes through from time to time. Bipolar disorder symptoms can result in damaged relationships, poor job or school performance, and even suicide.”
Shamika and Stephen's schedules were opposite to one another. While he worked at night, she was at home, and vice versa. They were seeing very little of each other during their first few months as newlyweds.
“I didn’t want to go to bed by myself at night,“ Goddard said. “We moved into our first apartment in March. By April, after a month of sleeping less and less, that is what triggered the psychotic aspect. Over the course of the weekend after Easter, I ended up being committed when I thought the apocalypse was going on.”
As a devout Christian, Shamika’s psychotic episode was incredibly spiritual. She was convinced that God was explaining to her how to get into heaven and what she must do through the characters of her favorite television shows.
Mary Elain Childs, Shamika’s mother, remembered her daughter being home from college when her first psychotic episode occurred. Childs recalled receiving frantic phone calls from her daughter telling her that she had to get home because the apocalypse was coming.
On several occasions, Child’s younger children would come to her and say that their older sister had been telling them scary things about the end of the world. After several days of Shamika doing “strange things,” as Childs referred to her actions, she felt she had no choice but to bring her in to the hospital to get evaluated by a doctor. Childs wanted to take Shamika in to get a CAT Scan to see if maybe there was a tumor of some kind that would be affecting her in such a way.
Mary Childs said she had no knowledge of whether there were any other cases of mental illness within her family. She worried about her daughter and just wanted to get her the help she needed. It was Shamika's situation with working too many hours, the absence of her husband and the amount of schoolwork that led to her breakdown, said Childs.
Shamika was taken to the hospital by her mother to find out what was wrong with her. While in the waiting room, the school shootings at Virginia Tech were being shown on the television, and she began to panic.
“Clearly this proves that the apocalypse is going down,” Shamika explained as her thought process at the time. “The enemy is seeking to whom he will devour.”
Outside, she remembered the rain falling to the ground.
“It was drizzling, but my eyes were being veiled from what was really going on in the world,” Shamika said. “I thought the rain was really fire that was protecting me, and that my mom and sister were demons and weren’t going to get into heaven with me because they weren’t saved.”
In her panic she blacked out, she said. A part of her memory didn't remember what had happened first, but the next thing she recalled was being on the floor, surrounded by police officers, blood covering her hands. Her mother said that she had scratched her face when she was trying to restrain her, but did not care to mention it to Shamika.
Following her second psychotic episode, which occurred March of 2008, Shamika's husband, Stephen, left her. She said that they had talked about reconciling, but at the time of this interview, Stephen had been unresponsive to her efforts to contact him.
“What kind of man does that to his wife,” Childs questioned. “A husband doesn’t leave his wife if she gets sick. He should be there no matter what. While they were married, he would always be out with his friends instead of being with his wife. It’s just not right.”
Shamika had come to Champaign in November 2008 to help get her life back on track. After being separated from her husband, not being at the school she loves, and suffering from mental distress, Shamika felt she needed time to sort things out and stabilize herself.
“I’ve had a temporary living situation since 2003 when I first started college,” Shamika said. “Here I’ve been stabilized. I’m stationary, and I’ll be here for awhile until I raise enough money to get back to Stanford. I can lay roots a little bit.”
Childs understands why she wouldn’t want to be living in San Antonio at present. But, she believes that her daughter will be able to meet her goal of going off to finish her degree at Stanford eventually. She has much respect for all of the achievements she has accomplished and sees her daughter’s mental illness as just another project for her to undertake and achieve in.
But the road to recover is a long one. Shamika must still take hold of her disorder and better her financial standing before she can do anything else. A friend from Stanford had offered to let her stay there for six months while she raised money to send to Stanford. Shamika must pay off an outstanding $9,000 housing bill before she is able to reenroll. Keeping a job and saving money has been hard for her, but she feels that she’s blessed with the people that have come in to her life who have helped in her struggle.
“I have a great therapist who I greatly enjoy working with whose very affordable,” Shamika said. “He's a psychiatrist who is able to ask a lot of questions and answer my questions as well. I have the bipolar support group. I think those three key elements are a really great foundation so far. I feel safe in the space I am in. I feel blessed. The people who God has put in my path have really made a difference in my life.”
Shamika still experiences symptoms of mania and feels that it has to do with the cyclic nature of the disorder.
“I expected this Easter to be the time where I became psychotic again,” Shamika said. “I’ve found that the same chain of events tends to happen every year. But I was able to catch it early on this time before it got too out of hand.”
A week before being interviewed, Shamika had a manic episode which she feared would lead to psychotic symptoms. When she felt herself losing all control of her actions, she called the crisis line run by the Mental Health Center of Champaign County who helped in stabilizing her.
Kristin Monahan, crisis supervisor for the crisis line, said that many people call in who have similar experiences to Shamika's.
"Since we operate our line 24/7 365 days a year," Monahan said, "we receive all different types of people who call in for different reasons. We provide supportive counseling. We're here if someone just needs someone to listen to them, or if they are suffering from depression or anxiety, we can make referrals for them to get further assistance."
Hospitalization was something that she and her mother both expected to happen, but by taking note of her disorder and situation, Shamika was able to win a small battle in a long and drawn out war with the disease.
Her symptoms will never disappear completely. The methods used to treat Bipolar I Disorder are by using different medications and attending to psychotherapy. She had been treated with a medication in the past that had made her gain weight, only adding to her insecurities with her body image. Shamika is currently on a medication that she is hesitant to take because of the potentially dangerous side effects.
“My psychiatrist recently prescribed me to this one medicine,” Shamika explained, “that he said would treat my psychotic symptoms. But one of the possible side effects is diabetes. I know that I need something to help stabilize me, but I’d rather not risk possibly getting diabetes.”
Psychiatrist Dr. David R. Kopacz explained that since Bipolar Disorder is difficult to diagnose, different medications are tested out on the person to see what really works the best. He said that diagnoses can be given out differently from one doctor to another, and this can elongate the time that it takes to treat the illness.
By questioning whether or not she should start up with this new medication, she is doing the right thing, said Kopacz. Only the patient can be their primary advocate, and the must speak up when they are worried about their treatment, Kopacz continued.
Shamika hopes that she’ll be able to reenroll at Stanford for the Fall 2010 semester. She has a job working in the gift shop at Cracker Barrel in Champaign. She said she enjoys the work even though it is hard on her feet because she is standing all day. As long as she keeps on managing her disorder well, she said, she thinks that going back to school is an attainable goal. Though managing her disorder, she said, is a job on its own.
“Yesterday, I had a very manic episode when I went shopping for clothes,” Shamika said. “I literally spent three hours at Dots going through every single article of clothing in the store. When I finally got to the cash register, they rang up how much it was going to be and I knew I would not be able to pay that much. I felt bad, they had to put everything away. I’m afraid to go back there,” she half-joked.
When she got home from shopping at Dots and realized she had had a manic episode, she was able to reflect on it, and how she was able to control herself from actually buying all the clothes with money she did not have.
“I’m not depressed with my situation,” Shamika said. “The only thing I’m upset about is my relationship with my husband. I have faith that I’ll pull through in other areas of my life.”

Thursday, May 7, 2009

“The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.”


I have been trying for weeks to get a lucky tree either from walmart or meijer. When I was finally resolved to do so with both the money and the time, Walmart had sold out! I tried explaining it to my friend, and my therapist understood when I told her, how important it is to me to have that plant. Its a symbol of home. Its something to share my life with, be a part of my life, something that I can take with me that lives and grows that I have a part in sustaining.

Sigh.

Maybe next week?

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Once More Into the Breech Dear Friends...Once More

So this is what I posted on craigslist the last time Stephen had not been talking to me for a while:

Let's go rollerskating!

Ever since I moved here to Champaign from San Antonio, TX, I have wanted to go roller skating. I have posted ads here in the past, met a few randos, a few duds, and some nice guys, but those were few and far in between!

I am 23, black, Christian, have locs, divorced, attended Stanford for 3 years (still have a year to go), studied abroad in Japan, knit, love dancing and karaoke, read, write, and enjoy sci fi and anything geeky or nerdy. I am looking for a white Christian guy, (if you are not white, nothing against you, i am just attracted to white guys ^_^) around my age who is looking for something long term. Serious relationship but with lots of humour. Let's start with skating and go from there. Feel free to email me.


I had several guys respond to me, all of which showed themselves to be less than practicing Christians and none talked about going skating!!


Sigh.


Clearly I am not going to find my next love for free online. Someone suggested I wait until I am a Ph. D. candidate before I look around for someone to share my life with.


Se la vie.

Monday, May 4, 2009

Living Right Until I Marry Mr. Right



I went to the library today and checked out at least 18 books, most of them for me and my pledge sisters. I am excited about life because of the pledge I made and the hope that it brings. So many people, in response to my news, say that they could never do something like that. I reply, neither can we, on our own. It is something that God doesn't want us to have to struggle with. When we love Him with our whole heart, then we can do whatever we want. I got that from a church signs book. Good stuff.

So yeah, Shay described to me the concept that I was in seeing as how she lived it herself not too long ago: Stephen is stringing me along. He likes me, no doubts there, but he doesn't like me enough to really be in the relationship. He does not, however, want anyone else in the relationship. So he gives me enough to keep holding fast and to keep the hope alive only to set back and wait me out.

After talking to her and Dan, I figured a thought I had a few weeks ago does make sense even more so now. Stephen is still AWOL since last Monday. Today was our 4th monthaversary that we have been celebrating since our first month married. He didn't call, respond to my text, and still hasn't communicated with me. I will send him the papers and move forward with the divorce. Unless he gets saved and moves up here, I don't see how any action of his could stop me. He talks big but never quite seems to follow through. Once he gets the papers, one of three things will happen:
  1. He does nothing. I file the documents with the county clerk. Have a court date on the docket. Show up in court. The marriage is dissolutioned.
  2. He calls or texts or emails or whatever in response to the papers and tries to talk to me about them-going forward with them or attempting to talk me out of them
  3. He makes arrangements to move out here and really reconcile no matter what this time
I don't know what will happen. I do know that tomorrow morning when I go to Land of Lincoln Legal Assistance I will seek legal counsel, since I have already sought wise counsel from nearly everyone I know and all signs point to leave him, with the exception of three that simply said to pray for him. I will then go down the road to the post office and mail the petition for dissolution of marriage and two documents he needs to sign in order to expedite the process.

I know Stephen's friends and acquaintances read my blog. I am under the impression that maychance he even reads it. So I somehow sense that he will have this information before he gets the papers in the mail. I sent him a sincere card saying basically let's not give up and keep trying because I wanted to with a gift for our 4.5 year anniversary recently. I told him I wanted to do counseling, that if he was serious about reconciling we could find a way to do it, and that if we were going to have any chance of making the marriage work, he and I would need to live in the same space away from the people that were not yet supporting the reconciliation. Lord only knows where things will go from here.


I just need to be resolute.