Writing An Autobiography That Sells-Guest Post with Nina Bingham

Writing an Autobiography That Sells-Guest Post with Nina Bingham

http://morgenbailey.wordpress.com/2014/11/27/guest-post-what-it-takes-to-write-an-autobiography-that-sells-by-nina-bingham

To see all of Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0

When I Stand In Your Shoes: An Open Letter To a Teen

Just because I don’t understand you, talk too much and don’t listen, think I know everything (which I definitely do not), can be demanding and harsh, expect too much of you, and don’t show an interest in what you are into, doesn't mean I still don’t love you. I get so worried about how I’m going to pay the bills, buy the groceries, make the rent and car payments, and buy you the things you need like new clothes and stuff for school that I lose sight of you as a person. I start thinking of you as one more responsibility that I have to take care of, and that’s when I turn into a dreaded parent. I stop being ME, and I take on this super-mom attitude, and then we’re reduced to the parent and child, which isn't working anymore, because you’re not a child anymore.

You’re becoming an adult, and it completely throws me off. Your friends have become the people you talk to now; suddenly I’m the odd man out. I’m supposed to know how to handle all this change, but I don’t, not really because I got used to being your best friend. I’m expected to let go one day like you’re a balloon, and let you fly away you’re supposed to, like I taught you to. But here I am, still holding onto this string, my fist just won’t let go. I see you’ve grown into a sane and strong person, sometimes stronger than me. But I can also see (because I’m older) when you’ve chosen the wrong path. It’s in these moments that I get worried and lose my cool. Instead of talking to you like ME, the understanding person that I am, I talk to you like a parent (which you hate) and suddenly I’m talking but you’re not listening because I’m lecturing. And I’m using that “know-it-all” tone because once, when I was younger I faced the same kind of decisions and got hurt. So really, when you look at it, the “mom-tone” is used when I’m feeling scared for you. In an irritating way, that should tell you I care-A LOT. I care enough to stop and lecture you, enough to stand up to you when you’re angry with me, enough to hug you when you go stiff on me. I probably care too much, which is why I either give up when you’re mad at me (because I really, really don’t want to alienate you), or I push too hard. It’s frustrating, wanting to help and feeling you can’t see me over my mom voice. Sigh.

So here we are, you on that side and me over here, both of us wanting the same thing-to be close and to have a healthy relationship. This has been a problem for every single mother and daughter and they've had to work through it. Some do, and some don’t. Some mothers and daughters just give up trying to understand each other and stay estranged. Others keep trying through their whole lives, trying to stand in each other's shoes. I think that’s what it takes to have a good relationship-any relationship: seeing for a minute through the other person’s eyes. When I stand in your shoes (and I wouldn’t want to go back to being a teen, not for a million bucks), I see a world that’s completely messed up. And you’re probably wondering how the heck you’re supposed to grow up to be normal in a society like this, where everything is depicted as perfect and romantic and enchanted, but where everything is actually screwed up, dysfunctional and crazy. Sometimes I wonder how I will get through this life, and I’m an adult! 

When I stand in your shoes I see things this way: I feel like I don’t stand a chance because I’ve grown up in a family where nobody understands me, and everybody’s busy with their own problems, and so it makes me feel like I’m ganna have to do this alone, and that thought scares the crap out of me. So I hook up with a boyfriend or a girlfriend, which is what I’ve been dreaming of, this amazing soul connection-only to find out they are messed up too, but at least I’m not doing this alone anymore. When I stand in your shoes I begin to get the sinking feeling that life is going to be this way forever: insane, confusing, frustrating, and just plain pointless. So I start to get depressed, because the world, which commercials tell you is just waiting for you to conquer it, is, in fact, unconquerable. As I look through your eyes, I see a world where everything is upside-down from what it's supposed to be.

My daughter, when you’re depressed because the world and everybody in it seems completely untrustworthy, I want you to remember one thing, probably the most important lesson you’ll ever learn. It is: Life is hell-not just for you, but for everybody, and that’s why there are so many crazy people in the world doing crazy things to hurt each other. While you’re in your room thinking that nobody understands what you’re going through, I’m in my room thinking the exact same thing. Kind of ironic, isn’t it, that we feel the same way, yet have such a hard time reaching out to each other? I’m in the next room feeling left out, misunderstood, pushed away and confused, just like you. So I’ll try harder to be brave-to ask you for a hug when I need reassurance, and I’ll try not to pretend I’m perfect (because you see how messed up I can be). In exchange, I hope you’ll try to bust out of the myth that I don’t care, or that you’re unimportant, because the truth is: YOU ARE EVERYTHING- everything that’s important to me. I just get scared to say it and I get too busy, just like you do. You see, we’re not as different as we thought.

Here’s my motherly advice (this time, said from the heart): When you feel you can’t go on, please try and remember me, because I’m probably just barely holding on, too. Maybe if we stand in each other’s shoes for a minute and are honest with our feelings, we’ll be able to get through this crazy hell-hole called life TOGETHER. I don’t know about you, but that’s all I really need-to know you’re on my side.

Loving you imperfectly, but forever-
Mom


To see all of Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0

Getting Rid of the Guilt of Mental Illness

Guilt is defined as: feeling responsible for wrongdoing. But isn't it interesting that we can feel guilt simply because we ourselves, or someone we love, has a mental illness? Guilt is a very confusing emotion. How do we know when it’s right to feel guilty?

The average person has what I would call an exaggerated sense of guilt. I believe this is because of the rules society has imposed on us. An unspoken rule of society is that mental illness is shameful and should be hidden. I'd like to explore this further, because at least in America, research tells us that 26% of Americans have been diagnosed with a mental illness. This number does not include the innumerable people too afraid or too ashamed to step forward. Freud was the first psychoanalyst to explain guilt. He theorized it as a function of the Superego, that part of the mind which is our moral gatekeeper; the "voice" that helps us distinguish what is right from what is wrong. Freud said that when parental morality was modeled for us in childhood, we internalize it. This internalized voice, better known as our "conscience," then becomes the guiding force as we age.

Case in point: My daughter was 11 when her father died, and as a result she developed clinical depression. She was 15 before she would accept help because she was terrified of being stigmatized. She didn't want to be seen as the "crazy girl" (her words). She'd only been on her anti-depressant for 3 weeks before she secretly stop taking it, and as a result, took her own life. She stopped taking it because she feared she would look too fat in a bathing suit, and was worried the medicine would make her gain weight. She didn't want to be labeled as mentally ill, nor didn’t want other girls calling her fat. America's obsession with unrealistic perfection is killing our children…but so is the stigma of mental illness. 90% of suicide completers are people who had a diagnosed mental illness. This should tell us that suicide completers are people who feel ashamed and misunderstood-afraid of being mentally ill because of the cultural stigma, so afraid they would rather not be here.

So how do we rid ourselves of the stigma? How does the parent of a child that took their own life due to a mental illness like depression, get free of blaming themselves? If everybody does their part to reduce the stigma, that is, to educate others that it's a medical problem and not a character weakness, perhaps those hiding their symptoms will feel safer talking about it. The best way to reduce the stigma is to get comfortable talking about your own symptoms. You see, stigma comes as a result of NOT talking about it, rather than talking about it. If everybody got comfortable talking about it, there would be no stigma.

The next time you're tempted to feel guilty about something, stop and take a hard look at what's causing the guilt. Is it yours to take? If you are feeling guilty because you have a mental illness, or your child committed suicide due to a mental illness, it is time to stand taller than ever before and to tell the world that mental illness causes suicide, and for that you are not to blame.

To see all of Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0

Why The Turtle In You Is Going To Win the Race

Imagine standing on the precipice of a very great adventure. The jubilant excitement, the breathless anticipation; then imagine standing there at the tired and sagging age of 51. What seemed thrilling at age 20 now looks daunting, maybe even exhausting-too much to ask. But some of us are turtles and not hares in the race of life. Some of us will come across the finish line a little later than most. Yet it's always been the chubby, older marathon runner that struggled across the finish line, near last in the dark of night, when everybody else had gone home and nobody was watching, that I loved the most. It was their perseverance I admired...their stubborn refusal to give up no matter how ridiculous they looked, because they weren't doing it for the crowds or the press coverage. They were doing it for themselves, for a fire that got started that they tended and protected for years, long after others gave up believing in them.

A "turtle" I've always looked up to is a dynamo woman faith healer you probably never heard of, or don't know much about whose name was Kathryn Kuhlman. She started out as a backwoods, 16-year old girl preacher in the early 1920's who wasn't afraid of anyone or anything, despite her total ignorance of theology. The only thing she feared was wasting the precious life she'd been given-she was terribly afraid of that. Regardless of your opinion of her claims that God healed through her, Kathryn's unwavering dedication and passion was a marvel. At age 16, she voluntarily slept in chicken coops and preached in condemned churches until a real church was willing to give her a shot. Her unwavering declaration was, "I believe in miracles, because I believe in God." Back in 1923, a girl preacher was unheard of and frowned upon, even shunned. But young Kathryn had a message burning in her heart that kept her awake at night. Simply, she believed in herself and that what she had to say must be said. Lots of press reporters laughed and mocked and pointed out the flaws of her preaching. To Kathryn, it was just a conformation that she was on the right track when she got their attention and ire up; she preached that much harder. She preached into her old age, packing out coliseums, full to the brim with thousands of desperate souls convinced of her authenticity. Now you might be thinking: 'Look here-I don't go for that sort of thing.' I'm not saying I agree with it, either. What I am pointing out is this preachers infectious enthusiasm, vision, and passion. It made her famous-and maybe it even gave her the power to heal as some people claim. But one thing is unarguable: the joy of her dream carried her miles and miles from where she started. She said this: "It is a fact that every one of us, down deep, has what it takes to meet whatever life brings." Even a poor nobody girl from Concordia, Missouri.

Towards the end of her life, her ministry was in full swing and she complained in one of her books that she would never understand why she wasn't allowed to speak to great crowds of people until she was old and almost too "give out" to pull it off. That comment stuck with me. It occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, for some of us "turtles" who mature a little slower than the rest, the Universe saves the best for last. Kind of like going out with a bang. Or maybe it's that we don't have the wisdom and knowledge, patience and grace as young bucks that's necessary for the big jobs. Just maybe. If you're like me, you may be wondering why the Universe is taking so long. I have wondered that a hundred times. Why is big answer you've been waiting for so long in coming? Perhaps you may have decided that your big break is never coming at all. I'm here to tell you that there's still time. Us turtles may be slow, but we WILL cross the finish line (flashlights, please). Because it hasn't shown up yet doesn't mean it's not around the next corner. No matter the hurdles you're faced with, or how hard the wind buffets you, if you keep the fire in your heart and don't let ANYONE blow it out, you're going to astound yourself and all the people who said you couldn't.

I'll see you there-right there at the finish line. I'll be the one holding the big that sign that says: You did It. I Knew You Could! Smile.

To see all of Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0

When To Let Go, and When To Hold On

Those of us who wage our own private battle with mental illness can tell you that on our toughest days, when life is staring us down and daring us to give in, we've got to remind ourselves that we have a reason to go on. My reason was always my daughter Moriyah. I kept trudging through the swampy morass of depression because while she was smart, beautiful and loving, she had also inherited our family's depressive gene. I wanted to prove to her that life was worth living, although there were days when I wondered why I had to go on. She became depressed after the death of her beloved father; they were soul mates, her reason for going on. Five days before her death she stopped taking her medication, and committed suicide in the next room as I slept. After waging a brave and grueling 4-year battle, she let go of hope. Grief combined with guilt left me shattered, devastated, numb, and incapable of functioning. In the months to follow I had to find a way to forgive both her and myself. How could I forgive myself for not being able to save her? How could I forgive her for giving up? What I learned about love and forgiveness changed my life forever.

What I learned about forgiveness is that it's the most potent and powerful force on the face of the earth. It can change everything in an instant. I've heard it said that we shouldn't forgive just to satisfy someone else, and I wholeheartedly agree. Don't forgive others to pacify or placate. Forgive because it is the merciful art of release. Most importantly, you are freeing yourself of bitterness, and embracing the possibility of a new tomorrow. Forgive yourself because you are as deserving of compassion as anyone (the Buddha said that). Release others, letting go of the drama and emotional poison, so they are free to face their own karma. You don't need to prove their wrongdoing; simply LET GO of having to adjudicate, leaving them in the capable hands of the Universe. The most important life lesson I ever learned is: "You cannot save people...you can only love them" (Anais Nin). Anais Nin and The Buddha can't be wrong.

What I learned about love is that it never ends. Sorrow ends, and hate definitely ends. But love...it is the only feeling that lives on, unquenchable and enduring. When I finally released my daughter (it took me a whole year to whisper the word "goodbye"), I thought I'd stop feeling her presence and we'd drift apart (which is why I held on for so long). I don't feel her presence as acutely anymore (hey, she's got more important things to do than to hang out with Mom), and I believe it's because we are both able to stand on our own now. I have a knowing inside that whenever I need her help, I can call and she'll be there. We have this spiritual connection that can't be broken, a bond forged that's as strong and enduring as steel, as tough as nails. It's like the Bible says: Love never fails.

While my reason to go on isn't my daughter anymore, I do have a reason. It is, well...YOU. I go on for every reader who has lost a loved one to suicide, so they see that pain is a surety but suffering is optional. I go on for every person struggling with the scourge of mental illness, so they don't give up before help has a chance to arrive. I go on for every teen and young adult who was promised a beautiful life but who feels betrayed and sees life as a lie, because for them it is nothing but suffering. I go on for every hopeless person on this planet because when I lost my daughter I was hopeless and out of answers. I go on for YOU, and you go on for ME; we go on for each other, because that's what it's all about. That's what we are here to discover. We exist for one another. Everyday we choose to go on because every day is a new opportunity to release old patterns of thinking and adopt fresh ways of relating. Love is the reason we go on, because love never fails.

To see all of Nina's books: http://www.amazon.com/Nina-Bingham/e/B008XEX2Z0