Become Ordained into the ranks of the most wonderful people in the world!

I have been in psychiatric hospital twice now (trauma ward). Both times it was a wonderful experience–hard work, some mental pain, authentic living, with lots of caring people around me. Most especially, the people who loved and cared for me and helped me to heal were the patients; those others who struggled with mental illness (mostly dissociation up and down on that scale).

The patients around me knew what I was going through. They could walk a mile in my shoes. We cared for each other. Blessed each other in so many ways. Knew almost everything there was to know about each other (Group Therapy). We were authentic with each other. We were a community of compassion; supporting, loving, holding a hand, and sharing our lives with each other.

God, I miss that! So much!

I guess it has been a long time since anyone has understood me that way.

I feel homeless and abandoned.

And yet, in so many ways, I feel healthier than I have in a very long time!

But no one understands who I am or what I am going through.

My life now falls far short of those days with my family of the mentally ill in a psychiatric hospital.

I need that community. I need a family that understands me.

I believe that each of us, (the mentally ill), needs that kind of community. A family that says, “I am glad you are here. I want to help you. You are my brother/sister. I love you.”

When I was ordained as a pastor, they asked me several questions. One of them was, “Will you be a friend to your brothers and sisters who are also ordained?” After my ordination I knew that wherever I traveled in this world that I had brothers and sisters all around me, and we cared for each other in a very special way–an ordination vow!

I believe that we, the mentally ill, should form a community that reaches across the street and around the world. If anyone needs community, support, a hand to pull us up, it is you and me and all the others who form a family of those struggling with depression, BP, BLP, ED, DID, self harm, schizophrenia, and so many more!!!

Will you answer an Ordination Question? A question that gives you a family? A community where you can find answers and share hope? I ask you to be Ordained into the ranks of the Mentally Ill!
A group of the most loving and caring people I have ever known...

Will you be a friend to your brothers and sisters who are also mentally ill?

Yes, yes. I will!

I love you. Take good care!

Posted in civil liberties, depression, Dissociative Identity Disorder, faith, Hospitalization, Inpatient, love, mental illness | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments


There are some people who think that dreams are just parts and pieces of things you are dealing with during the day. To these people dreams are more like junk being processed.

For me, dreams are a connection to those deep crevasses of our subconscious world. Dreams rise up from these deep places as guides, information, or a kind of disjointed memory. I believe that some/many? of our dreams originate in the Limbic area of our brains. In the evolution of humankind the Limbic system is that most ancient part which holds our fears, doubts, dangers, strong emotions, etc. Many times dreams from this area are warnings, approaching dangers, dark strong emotive stories that may be a type of memory.

Yet, I also believe that there is a kind of subconscious that is so vast, an ocean that has no end reaching out connecting each of us together–a kind of web. This type of subconscious also connects us to God. And I believe that many times dreams originate from this holy conduit. Throughout the bible God gave people dreams to guide them to right action in their waking lives. Most all these dreams in the bible are guides to help people discover God’s path for their lives. I believe this happens today as well.

Yes! Dreams are important! They are not, in fact, junk to be processed. Dreams hold meaning and messages for us to consider and learn from. They hold the key to so much of our lives.

Much of the time my dreams have become just another type of reality where I live when asleep. They are so real, vivid. And indeed, some of these dreams are nightmares, when I awaken in a sweat, horrified. For a year or more I would awaken to nightmares at 3am in the morning! However, most of my dreams are guides that I do or don’t comprehend. Some dreams I do not remember, but I believe someone remembers them; understands them.

Dreams can help us understand more about who we really are deep down. And being that this blog is autobiographical I feel that I need to include some of my dreams. Being these writings are mostly about mental illness of various kinds I believe dreams may help us take a look into this most misunderstood topic.

I encourage you to connect to your dreams! Try to understand them. They are an important part of our lives. Our dreams may also help guide us on our journey to healing. Try not to be scared of these deep places. When you awaken from a frightening dream, draw back a little, know that this is now and you are safe, and then wonder at the meaning… Your dreams are important.
I love you.

Here we go…

I am standing near the top of a church on a balcony that juts out just below the Cross. I am searching the streets below for my self. Snow is everywhere. The Cross is gold and the streets and rooftops are white. The town looks abandoned, but then someone down in the street turns a corner and comes into view… a dark figure walking away. It is me!? or part of me? And he fades into the town. Where did he go?

I am shackled by my ankles with one large weight that drags behind me as I struggle to walk.

I have had this dream several times.

I dream that I am in heaven, and in heaven there is a school. I never remember what classes I have taken or what I have learned, because the dream always begins when it is time to leave. I always find myself in the same room. Everyone in the room (graduates?) at the same time and then we walk out onto a long road that leads us out to the horizon. The line gets shorter as the people in front disappear. Then the space before us is empty… there is darkness and nothingness before us as we step off into… (another life?).

I dreamt that I was lost in the desert. Finally, I found a dirt road. I follow it until I find an abandoned house. Inside, there is a mirror. I look at myself in this mirror only to discover that there is a small white cross embedded into my left eye.

I dreamt that I saw myself and the left hand side of my head was shaved. I had a long scar along the left-hand side of my head and there were several staples along the scar line.

This is another dream I have had time after time throughout the years.

Satan is chasing me up this long line of stairs along a steep mountain side. I am running up these stairs that disappear into the fog up ahead. I am out of energy–about to pass out. But then in the distance I see a restaurant jutting out from the steps into the wind and air. I enter and find a seat at a table. Satan joins me. It is time out! The waiter comes over and hands us menus that turn out to be Bibles! They are both opened to the book of Revelation, chapter 21, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth…” Satan starts to laugh hysterically pounding his fist on the table. A storm breaks out–lightning, thunder, a blinding rain. I stand and run as fast as I can further up the steps and out into the blinding rain; still hearing Satan laughing in the distance.

I live in this nice house with all the other alters in my system (my world inside). There is a moat surrounding our home. One day we all decided to go on a “mission trip.” We had to go on a journey to talk to someone about something in particular. I don’t know what it is but everyone else seems to understand our mission…

The bridge to exit the house is lowered and we all crossed over the moat on our horses. A moment later we arrive at our destination. There was a thin old and wise woman standing there waiting for us. She is short in stature with dark wrinkled skin, but as old as she is something tells me she is physically a lot stronger than I am. She points at me, and orders, “follow me!”

All the other alters start pitching tents and lighting fires as the wise woman and I enter into a dark cave. There is a small fire burning. I sit down across from someone who I know to be another-kind-of-me. The wise woman sits down and begins to mix something in these two small drinking bowls. She gives each of us a bowl and sticks a knife into the middle of both breaking an egg-like thing that seeps out into the fluid. She orders both of us to drink. The person who is another-kind-of-me and I look into each other’s eyes as we lift the bowl to our mouths. A moment later I start to change into something else. It is a strange feeling… I recognize the drink to be some kind of a hallucinatory. The wise woman stands, we follow as she leads us down into this deep tunnel… she turns and informs us, “we must go deeper!”

There is a young man lying in a stream. He is naked. I think that he must be drowning. However, he is still, seemingly at peace, smiling up at me. I step into the cold stream and draw him out. His back is against me and I reach around to feel his heart. It is beating very slow. I say to him, “you can’t die, you can’t die!” The heart seems to beat faster. He turns around facing me. He is still smiling peacefully. I tell him, “please come home with me. You need clothes and something to eat.” I take him to a big van where all of the other alters are sitting in seats. He enters and I ask him, “what is your name?” Looking at everyone in the bus he responds, “Mem, my name is Mem.”

We are at our home. Mem is standing in the corner of a big room where all of us are sitting. Mem is still beautifully smiling and unashamedly naked. Then all of a sudden he starts to change. He darkens. His body’s form changes slightly and giant wings grow out of his back. His face is now serious. I think he is going to torture all of us. I am frightened out of my mind, when all of sudden he holds out his hand. Light, lightening? comes out of his hand and surrounds each of us. This light cocoons each of us and Mem orders, “change! you must change! you must change!”


Well as I have been writing out these dreams I have made many connections. I have come to understand myself much more. But I must also inform you, yes, full disclosure! that I have not told you of my nightmares that I have now and then. I think you understand why…

Please comment and know that I love you.

Posted in child abuse, depression, dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, faith, mental illness, multiple personalities | Tagged , , , , | 1 Comment

Civil Liberties Ranting

A subject that has bothered me over the last couple of months: More and more, I feel that the mentally ill are being discriminated against! After all the horrible shootings we have seen lately, there has been a rise of conversation by politicians and talking heads commenting that something has to be done with the mentally ill and gun violence! Why the mentally ill? An easy target? Why the mentally ill? when over 32 murders occur each day in this country that have nothing to do with the mentally ill! Why not look at gangs? Why not aim at the NRA who has their hands in the pockets of most politicians on the Hill? Why not look at a do-nothing congress who allows military weapons and 100 round clips in the hands of the general public!

One day on NPR I heard a spokeswoman, at the end of her story on gun control and mentally ill people, say, “well we have both sides on this gun control issue, but we don’t have anyone here to represent the civil rights of the mentally ill…” My God I was so shocked! Who is representing us I wondered… the government?–don’t believe it! Who then? NAMI? I haven’t heard them stand up for us at anytime during these discussions! And please know… I have no intention of buying a gun. That is not the point! The point is,why? why? are we held up as a target after each one of these terrible shootings?

Yes, I am ranting a little… :-) However, you and I need an answer. Who is it that represents us, will stand up for us, who will protect our civil liberties amidst a society that loves scapegoats and continues to discriminate against the poor, blacks, the old, hispanics, immigrants, women, and gay and lesbians?

OK, I am done. If you know the answer to this question please leave a comment. If you have an opinion, please leave a comment.

Also, know that political ranting is not what this blog is about! I am off topic… But I am worried about the future and our place in society.

I love you.

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The Story of Big Eye!

The parents left for work. After a few minutes, Mrs. Bloom would slowly start to pull the drapes closed. Her warm smiley face was now transforming into something cold and malelavent. Her face and lips started to thin. I could feel hate pulse out from her big body. It was time to hide…

I was around 5 or 6 years old, and this was not the first time. It had almost become ritual. The house became a dull grey. I could hear the doors locking. Bad things were about to happen–terrible nightmare things.

I crouched down low and moved as silently as possible to the hallway closet. I closed the door to a small crack so I could see just a little. The left hand side of my face was pressed hard against the cold wood; my left eye pushing to see if she was near. The fear grew in the pit of my sick stomach; when out of the misty grey I saw the stockings, the legs, the black shoes of Mrs. Bloom standing at the end of the hallway. “Johnny… Johnny… come out.” I was frozen like a deer in headlights. My face pressed harder… it felt like my left eye was growing–trying to see–a big eye of hard growing intensity. Then! suddenly, Mrs. Bloom started running down the hallway growling… and with that horror sight I disappeared.

Many years later, when I was 48 or 49 and in a Trauma Ward of a psychiatric hospital; I started drawing pictures of a person with a big left eye. With charcoal pencils I drew this face in so many different ways. My subconscious was working hard to express itself or, what I found out later, was that someone was in me trying to be recognized.

Then one day, maybe in therapy, I felt an alter start to fill me… He was big and pushy! At the same time I felt this pressure on the left side of my head, like someone was pressing down hard on that side of my head. Also, my left eye seemed to grow to an enormous size, while my right eye became almost blind-darkened. The left hand side of my head felt heavy.

This alter was Big Eye… He is the one, the child, who got left there in the closet after I dissappeared. Big Eye is the one who held all the bad things–those secret things that happened–the bad things he was forced to do. When Big Eye would come out; he made me so tired. His appearance would put me in bed for the rest of the day. And Big Eye was curious! Always coming out to look around. I tried to explain to him that he couldn’t just push out whenever he wanted to, but there he would be… A curious george trying to figure things out.

Come to find out, it was Big Eye that saved my life! However, for a long time I didn’t even like him. No one in my system liked Big Eye. He was a dirty naked barbarian boy. Yet, it was Big Eye who saved my life and I love him and who he is becoming. I am grateful!

I will return to the story of Big Eye later. Thanks for reading! I hope you will comment. And, I love you. Jonathan

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Life of an Addict…

POEM NOTES: Many years ago I struggled with a drinking problem that eventually lead me to the brink of suicide. But instead of killing myself I chose life. Yet, I was so destroyed as a human-being, at the bottom of the barrel, that all I could do was look up and crawl out. Recently I have been reading some scholarly work on the nature of dissociation. In my readings I saw that the prevalence of alcohol use among dissociators was huge. This makes sense for me: a way to self medicate-to feel something-to stop the images from zapping my brain and my soul-a way to stop the voices in my head.

I wrote this poem from the knowledge of a pretty dark and depressing past. If you connect with it I hope you will leave a comment… share in the story… share in the healing. I love you. Jonathan

of an addict
all lit up
apple jack or just
some Kali
one more ball for the bowl
another scotch to get through

This dark night of pain…
As the head keeps spinning those old films
Of dreaded experience–years ago–
Damned misery!
Whispering “how could I have done that!?”

Feelings of loneliness, that lack of a real heart-felt love
Reaching down into the gut
To find nothing but emptiness and
That fear of some deep dark abyss
Pulling you down into the muck

The daddy and mommy tapes click on repeating
Those old familiar tunes, singing out,
“Your a bad boy!”
“Your nothing but a slut!”
“You’ll never add up to much!”

reaching for a drink–a joint–a pipe–a syringe
Then it comes fast
silence and darkness
laughing at nothingness
a beating heart where no one lives
wondering when it all began
and when…
it will all end.

Posted in autobiography, depression, dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, mental illness, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Life-Thoughts Inspired by Coldplay’s Song “Clocks”

When I heard “Clocks” by Coldplay, well, I just broke down. This song struck such a deep chord inside me. It spoke to my life unlike anything I have experienced. I am very thankful to this group for writing such great music, and especially, writing “Clocks.” This song has made it possible for me to make many connections in my life and again, I am very appreciative to Coldplay. The song “Clocks” can be found on the CD “A Rush of Blood to the Head.” This is a great CD and being you are reading this blog; I promise it will speak to you! First I will write down the lyrics to this song. Then I will go line to line sharing some of my life with you. I hope you find some connection, a place of healing, and a sense of love in these words. Take care and blessing to you and those you love!

Clocks by Coldplay
The lights go out and I can’t be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
Brought me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead, singing

Come out of the things unsaid
Shoot an apple off my head and a
Trouble that can’t be named
Tigers waiting to be tamed, singing

You are, you are

Confusion that never stops
The closing walls and the ticking clocks gonna
Come back and take you home
I could not stop, that you now know, singing

Come out upon my seas
Cursed missed opportunities am I
A part of the cure
Or am I part of the disease, singing

You Are, Your Are, You Are

And nothing else compares…

Your Are, You Are, You Are

Home, home, where I wanted to go…
You Are-You Are

1. The lights go out and I can’t be saved
So much of my life has been lived in the dark. So many dark days-so many dark encounters. I think this darkness began with my days living in the house in Kansas City where a nanny named Mrs. Bloom abused me in so many ways (I was 5 or 6 when it started). In my early 20s or so things went dark and stayed that way. I remember one day sitting on my bed with my shotgun on the verge of shooting myself. I was at the end of myself and couldn’t see anyway forward. Also, during this point in my life I did have a sense of spirituality, but I always turned away from Christ. I just couldn’t do it! I was damned and turned my face against God. I also remember during these last days of darkness that the owner of the restaraunt where I was working kept trying to convert me-to save me-to bring me to Christ. Then one day he asked, “Don’t you want to be saved?” I looked him square in the face and told him, “No, no, I do not!”

You know, I was never a “bad” person. I just wasn’t a “good” person. I was lost, confused, always searching for a way to understand a past I wasn’t even very aware of at the time-always seeking in some way to recreate the trauma. Yes, dark days searching for something I could not find.

These are also days when I dreamed almost every night about being chased especially by Satan or by crazy satanic people. My dreams were terrible-so real! Also during these dark days I occasionally found that my body couldn’t move very well; so I stayed in bed and drank at night. And yet, as determined as I was not to be “saved” I painted all the walls of my apartment with crucifixes! How strange…

When I was around 12 or 13 years old I started collecting bibles. This is also when I started to read the bible. I also wanted to grow up to be a priest! At this same time I started to have several spiritual experiences. We lived way out in the country and I would walk out into a field, stop–my hands would lift up from my sides–hands stretched wide–eyes closed. In that moment it was like being connected to everything and everyone in the world. It was a web of life. During these times I would understand so much, about death, God and the meaning of life. Then it would end as fast as it came on, and very quickly the feeling of that mystical web, all the knowledge, would recede beyond my reach. These moments of peace came of their own accord–out in the country–by myself. I would just stop walking and it would start.

These were hard beaten-up damn days but there were many good days as well; being out in the wilderness, loving terrible storms that would rip through the Kansas plains, tracking coyotes on cold snowy days, and being stopped in the middle of a grassy field on a blue sky day when I would be confronted with what I have always considered to be “ultimate reality.”

2. Tides that I tried to swim against
I never did anything the “normal” way. I always fought against the grain of life. So a peaceful productive life was not to be mine. I chose a Hard Damn Life, and it has taken a heavy toll on me

3. Brought me down upon my knees
That last dark day I was so broken! There was nothing left for me to do. I couldn’t stand anymore so I found myself on my knees ready to turn the next page. And it is true, realizing your brokeness is a wonderful gift, but getting there can be such a hard-core terrible experience.

4. Oh I beg, I beg and plead, singing
I did a lot of pleading in the beginning days! I begged for Light and an end to suffering.

5. Come out of things unsaid
O Lord there were/are so many things unsaid…
*Family secrets
*Lost time-amnesia
*Seeing the pictures move by so fast that you can’t really grasp them and not wanting to speak about what you do see!

6. Shoot an apple off my head and a
I loved adrenaline rushes–doing dangerous things. You see I never really felt physical pain, and so there were many things that I could do that others couldn’t… bar contests, fighting…etc.

7. Trouble that can’t be named
Well, my whole dissociative life!!! Only in the last three years am I able to see some of those places that have been cut out of the film of my life.

8. Tigers waiting to be tamed, singing
I think we all have tigers to be tamed. I have tamed a few and I have a few more to be tamed as well.

9. You are, you are
When I heard these words the first time I just broke down and cried. These lyrics and the last in the song are the most important to me. These words are confirmation of self–a self! And for someone with DID this can be terribly important! Yes, it is hard for me to have a sense of self. It always has been. Splintered and broken up as I am it is hard for me to understand “identity.” Sometimes as I am moving through my house, without thinking about it; I will say, “who are you?” This happens in the mornings, and I will reply, “I am Jonathan.” But this is not the whole truth, is it??? Also, life is so fleeting that I can adapt to most anything. I can get used to anything. Then the things and people that were, fade away. I can’t remember that well and so I transform into my present situation much easier.

Morally and Ethically and Christ-wise I now have a center, a core. However, in terms of my “identity” there is no real core. I am like a ghost. And yet, those words “you are” in this song have a way of breaking through all this and it cut me to the heart in a surprise moment. There were tears of joy and laughter! It was a moment of blessing…

10. Confusion that never stops
It is pretty easy for me to get bounced off center when people come into my structured somewhat hermit-like life. I get confused. I am not sure how to respond. Again, confusion is about identity–a core that holds you together. If you have a Core Identity then you can stand on your feet better. People are not so unpredictable.

I have always struggled to know what was going to happen before it was going to happen. But now!? For some reason it doesn’t work anymore. I can not forsee the future :-)! And so there is confusion. And sometimes I feel so innocent that I don’t understand things. I have lost my “worldly” view on things, and my innocence and simpleness cause me confusion out there in the great big world.

But don’t get me wrong; I perceive this “innocense” and “simpleness” to be blessings. After such an abused violent and disgraceful life I find these to be a gift from God…

11. The closing walls and ticking clocks gonna
Come back and take you home
I could not stop, that you now know, singing,
When you run out of places to run and time is running out–where else do you go to put your life back together again? Home! But nowadays I have no home. If I had my children much more often and overnight and dinner and fun and just living life; yes, then I would have a home. (custody battle) Now, though, in a very real sense, I am homeless!

12. Come out upon my seas
I have always conceived of my subconscious to be a sea that reaches out into a distant horizon that has no end–vast! I believe that we are all connected (the web)by this vastness; a supraconsciousness where we move in and out of each other’s presence. I also have come to believe that this vastness, this web, is also a living conduit to God called the Holy Spirit. And there are times in life when an “other” will wade out into your seas and you will both have a special understanding, knowledge, a connection.

13. Cursed missed opportunities am I
I have thrown away so much of my life! Sometimes this realization really stings. But sometimes, though, will make me appreciate this day that God has given me. I also try to impart the importance of today and how today effects the future to my children–decisions and choices! I know… my past is dark, full of regret and missed opportunities.

14. am I a part of the cure
Or am I part of the disease, singing,
Again, I do have a solid moral and ethical sense to me. This question is important to me. Through my ministry (I am a pastor) this question has been a guiding light for me. This is one of those questions that everyone should ask of themselves!

But at the same time, I am pretty sure that I didn’t have these ethics (or they weren’t very solidified) until after Laura (a strong alter now integrated) found me. Yes, when Laura found me (Jonathan), almost in an instant, my ethics hardened. I was 34 or 35 years old at the time (immediately after the dark days). I was living back at home driving 20 minutes to rehab everyday. One evening I was driving home on the hilly Buhler road; when suddenly white fog filled the entire car. I felt a wonderful peace/love enfold me. I then heard a voice speak to me, (at that time I thought it was the voice of Jesus, but instead it was Laura), saying, “I love you. I love you. But you need to move faster. It is time to get going.” A moment later I found myself parked in front of a small grocery store at the intersection of Buhler road and HWY 61. I felt so good–renewed–a new person! Three or four days later I changed me name to Jonathan. I told my counselors at rehab that I was not going back into the restaurant business, but instead I would be looking for a seminary. My new life had begun!

In one moment on the Buhler Road on the Kansas plains–everything changed for me. Yes, I was already in the process of change–choosing life, not drinking, group therapy, being at home back on the farm. But it was on that road where everything changed for me. And I remember Laura saying, “I love you. I love you. But you need to move faster. It is time to get going.” Suddenly I was changed! I become a new being, a new person. I was Jonathan.

15. You are, you are…

16. And nothing else compares…
Nothing else compares with knowing that you are alive-vital-a self! In the movie Avatar, (if you haven’t seen it you really should), the native people greet each other by making a prayerful move with their hand and then say to each other, “I see You.” Beautiful! I SEE YOU! What wonderful words especially as we live in a society where no one really sees anyone… It is true, nothing else compares to knowing you are seen; that you are a self!

17. Home, home, where I wanted to go
This is my other favorite line. There is something so deep inside me that resonates when I heard this. HOME with my children. A HOME inside me–a being with a self! And most especially, my burning desire to return to the precense of God. With God. That is my true HOME. This is such a great yearning that I cannot begin to describe… Home is such a beautiful thought to me…

Posted in auto biograpy, autobiography, child abuse, depression, dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, faith, God, mental illness, multiple personalities, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments


(Notes on the poem: While traveling to Paris I met this Marine in the security check point. We talked for just a moment and then off he went to war in Afghanistan while I went to play in Paris. This poem is off-topic for me, but I hope you get it. Take care. Jonathan.)

“Traveling is not for sissies, is it?” He said
His body and t-shirt
Both said–USA Marines
I nodded yes…
“you sure are right,
traveling is not for sissies!”

Moving through lines of airport chaos
Traveling people–
All struggling
Their predicaments

And yet
The Marine
Moves with ease
Ever toward
A sleeping bag
On the desert floor
Somewhere in Afghanistan

I didn’t know!
I stuttered…
What to say?
(you see, I was heading to Paris luxury)
“I thank you”
I worry
I wondered
At his sad eyes
Generous vulnerable broken eyes
in sharp contrast
To a military form
Self reliant and graceful

He called me “sir”
And I thought
(don’t die… please don’t die…)
I wanted to scream it so the entire cosmos
could hear
(don’t get killed!!!)
He smiled
Went on his way…
I called out to him,
“Take Care!”
He nodded
I worried
He was traveling to war—traveling
Traveling to war
And I was traveling to Paris…

Posted in Afghanistan, mental illness, Travel, War | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments