A New Year, A New Path; Arriving At A Friendly Way Station

By Monette Benoit, All Rights Reserved.

Twelve months ago, I wrote about the battle for life, sudden depression, death of my youngest brother, Captain Kevin Drue Donnelly, after he acquired hepatitis C in the military.  I shared honestly, opening the kimono into my heart.

Many wrote that I was brave to share. 

Nah.  It still hurts, Comrades.  To do anything less than to be honest about my brother’s life, Hep C, rapid descent into depression and ‘sudden departure’, would take away from the honor with which he lived his life.  

Kevin’s depression, I now know, is part of hep C’s final stages.  Kevin’s descent occurred when he believed he failed to help a veteran survive an organ transplant Lester received, needed, to survive.  Kevin’s death resulted two weeks later.

When I look over my shoulder, I know the moment when actions ‘might’ have changed.  Kevin designed www.reocities.com/hepvet for veterans and families; it’s the only private site linked by the Veterans Administration.  The CDC states: Over four million people have Hepatitis C.  This does not include stats from the military, prisons or homeless.  

To assist families and those are new to this path, I built the web site, HV With HCV, Helping Veterans and Families with Hepatitis, www.captainkevindonnelly

I am frequently contacted by reporters with family members, or themselves, living with Hep C or depression.  There’s a lot of shame.

I’ve chosen to shed light here to help others avoid pain, scars, losses from hepatitis C and/or depression. 

Education and advocacy is the key; this is where my brother dedicated the last 2.5 years of his life.  I know my sharing has helped others. 

When I read ‘someone’ has avoided the ‘spiral’, I know ‘sharing’ makes a difference.  Sometimes, I have to remember to keep my chin up, when sharing. Often, I bow my head, softly saying, “I now belong to the club no one wants to join.”  Those who have endured such losses, just nodded.  Hundreds of reporters, privately, wrote me last year.  Truly.

I asked Steve to grace us with an update since his January 2002 article.  My dream is that Stephen Edmondson, Kevin and I will pull back the curtain, sharing ‘truth’, so others never experience what we have earned, ‘memories’ and life lessons here on earth.  

Arriving At A Friendly Way Station
By Stephen Edmondson

“It has been a year now, a good year since you last read about my descent into and rise from depression.  I'm not back, never will be fully, but life has new promise for me now.  I'd like to tell you about it.

When I first began flying, I was mildly amazed to get above 5,000 feet and see a new horizon.  When you first lift off, there is that common horizon, with hills, trees, natural things that break a smooth horizon, the things that mess up a perfect sunset sometimes.  But when you reach that 5,000 foot level, different in different seasons, in different areas, you see a new horizon, where the haze of those who live on the ground has a sharp break from the clear air of those of us who get to fly high
through the beautiful skies.  Sometimes it is a sharp dividing line, and in my little plane, I would like to stay just above that line, to see this break between below and above.

I'm now flying above that second horizon, where I see and think clearly now, and life has taken on a new sparkle, or regained an old one.  And no, I'm not high on any of my medication  (at a third of the dosage last time we talked), but high on being alive.  High on surviving, happy at being creative
again.  High at helping, "Bless you for sharing part of your journey.   Take solace in the knowledge that you have done a great service for your fellow reporters," Alexa in Florida.

My personal life has taken good turns as I find myself able to take charge again.  Out of a dreary apartment, and back into a real home, a house with driveway to wash my car, and room to store things, and some privacy.  A guest room for visiting friends or sons.  And being almost free of the necessary anti-depressants, my spirit has been reborn and mean it. 

Since this last article, I have written at least five new major stories, stories that had been lingering in my head, waiting on the time to put them down.  The local major daily newspaper just days ago published one of these stories, taking 2/3 of a page, including my photo!  A local professor contacted me about forwarding this story and more to a publisher.  That alone was equal to 200 pills and 20 hours of counseling!  But I don't forget, as one unnamed respondent to my last article said, "I'm home now (after an overdose).  I have to work.  I am still down, no desire to do anything, even watch TV.  ...they think I'm nuts, my family doesn't have a clue."  She is in that dark room, alone, and I fear for her, feel for her, and I remember so well.

Back to that flying analogy, there's another level to it. When you get into instrument flying you have to learn real trust, trust of small instruments that may tell a different story than your senses.  And your life depends on that trust, trust one little instrument that tells you your horizontal situation, whether your wings are level, whether your nose is up or down, and along with airspeed, altitude and direction, you can keep control, in cloud, in turbulence, in the dark, in both.  And all the while, vertigo emanating from a confused inner ear may be screaming at you to turn, to pull up, or give the engine more throttle.  And if you listen to that vertigo, that confused inner ear, you end up in what we call "The Dead Man Spiral," which I suppose is self-explanatory.

My battle with depression covered both flying analogies.  I rose above the cloudy horizon to a clear horizon, and began to see the beauty of life again.  And with clear head and clear outlook, began to look for the positives in life again.  New stories written, friendships rebuilt, a new home, went shopping to Heidelberg with my wonderfully understanding and supportive sister, last Christmas season.  Had one pleasant romance that ended of necessities other than my own, and I wouldn't shy away from another.  I couldn't have remotely even thought this way a couple of years ago.

And the instrument flying analogy?  Sometimes I am still in cloud, no horizon, no natural indicators of where I am, and a sort of mental vertigo envelops me in that old familiar darkness.  Yet before I enter that dead man spiral of depression, I know to trust my instruments.  In this case, my family and support group, counseling if needed, medication, and most of all, honest acceptance of the fact I'm mentally ill and need to do what is necessary to improve my health, mental or otherwise.  As Suzi from Texas said, "There will be many that will find truth in your story, but are afraid to admit that it applies to them."

And my other rewards?  Laura in response, "I don't feel like a mutant anymore."  Lois, "Thank you for sharing such an intimate part of your self."  Denise, "I am seeking help thanks to your kick in the butt." Elaine, on my article, "I could never explain it to my family the way you did.  Thanks so much."  And another, unnamed, "It is a hard battle, and every little bit of empathy helps."  From all of you that wrote, that called, thanks.  Maybe we are helping each other.

About the Author:

Monette Benoit, B.B.A., CCR, CRI, CPE, is a JCR Contributing Editor for the National Court Reporters Association, NCRA, author of multiple books to include the state and national CSR, RPR, RMR ‘Written Knowledge Exam’ textbook, workbook, study guide, ‘CRRT WKT’ CD and the ‘CATapult Your Dictionary’ CD series. Books, CDs and articles may be referenced www.CRRbooks.com and Monette's Musings, www.monettebenoit.com

Monette is a tutor, coach consultant, realtime court reporter and CART provider. She teaches, tutors and coaches home-study students and professionals. Monette speaks to groups at state, national and international conventions about motivation, technology, expanding skills and Deaf, Oral Deaf, Hard of Hearing.

Monette may be reached at: www.CATapultdix.com, www.CRRbooks.com and www.ARTCS.com