I carry on my shoulders the weight of generations of genetic suffering as well as my own childhood experiences. At times, the despair is overwhelming, and it is all I can do to just keep breathing. Fortunately, I embraced a spiritual practice at a young age. This has given me the energy and the hope necessary to continue to do my human revolution.
There are many theories as to whether mental illnesses such as clinical depression are inherited or a learned behavior. Most experts believe that our development is influenced by both nature and nurture. It is obvious from the actions of my parents and grandparents, that certain negative life tendencies were passed on to me epigenetically. As an adult, my choice became whether to play the blame game or take responsibility for the kind of person I wanted to be. As a Buddhist, the latter was the only viable alternative.
Still, during my most difficult times, it is a challenge to know what is real. The many joys in my life or the sadness? The confident me or the insecure me? The full me or the empty me? Perhaps each of these is equally true.
What I do know is that mental illness does not have to be a death sentence. Rather it can be the motivation for introspection and spiritual growth. In many ways, the blessings in my life are a direct result of this affliction. When I feel overwhelmed, I try to quiet my mind and remember that illness is an opportunity to attain a higher, nobler state of life.
My sadness has caused me to dig deep through therapy and Buddhist study to change as much of my negative karma into positive causes as is possible in this lifetime. In this way, I continue to chant and therapize for my own happiness as well as the happiness of my children, grandchildren and their future descendants. And to share my journey with as many people as possible in the hope that it might encourage someone else to never give up.
