The Road to Recovery – Part 2: Hospitalization

 

To be honest, I don’t think I can top my last post. I couldn’t be more honest than I was in that post. And sometimes, honesty has to be tactful. I don’t want to embarrass anyone other than myself with these, so this story will be told largely through other people’s words and art. It’s not for me to give away the secrets of others. I can only give away my own, if I choose.

Please love one another for me. ❤

dancinggirl

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ Kasani ❤

 

The Road to Recovery – Part 1: Just Another Manic Christmas…

Edit: This was scheduled to be posted on April 1st at 7am but the post never showed up so now I have to re-write it. Guess that makes me an April Fool for trusting technology…

Before I say anything else, can I just wish all my readers a happy, glorious Easter? Regardless of whether or not you’re reading this on Easter morning when I’m posting it, or years later. If you’re a Christian, every day should be Easter for you. Christ is alive, doncha know? ❤

This will be a three-part series. I mentioned in a post about a month ago that I would explain what all has been going on in my life, so this is it. In part 1, I’ll explain what happened over Christmas/New Years, in Part 2 I’ll explain how I got hospitalized, and in part 3 I’ll discuss my plans moving forward. This has easily been the most traumatic year of my life so far, but it’s also been the most freeing and validating. I’m a little nervous to see what the upcoming weeks will bring, but I’m also excited. What I’ve experienced in the past 5 months has been nothing short of miraculous on many levels.

So let’s get started, shall we?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My last big post last year was entitled “Embracing the Cross – Part 4: Building a Personal Relationship with God.” In that excessively long post I assigned us all some homework. I am now here to tell you that I failed all of that homework, through no intentional fault of my own.

Don’t ever tell me God doesn’t have a sense of humour. He does.

Overachieving is not always a good thing. Especially if you are trying to overachieve in something God didn’t make you to do.

“If you are what God made you to be, you will set the world ablaze.” ~ St Catherine of Siena.

As many of you already know, my real name is Catherine. I have many patron saints, all of whom used to intimidate me half to death. St. Catherine of Siena had direct conversations with God the Father. St. Catherine of Genoa got to visit purgatory in-person on multiple occasions. St. Catherine of Alexandria got gang-raped and killed for refusing to obey her human father. I was always partial to St. Catherine of Sweden. All she did was talk her fiance into taking a vow of virginity so they could live together chastely like Mary and Joseph (Jesus’ parents).

I think the thing that always terrified me more than anything else, though, was that nearly all my patron saints were nuns. Now, I myself am not called to be a nun. Trust me. I asked God. He told me so. But a few years back I had a priest jokingly tell me that God had told him that I would become a nun someday. I wish he hadn’t said that, because it put me into a lot of spiritual turmoil for a very long time. The thing is, everyone is called to be a saint, but not everyone is called to religious vows. Marriage is an equal calling to the priesthood or religious life. It isn’t inferior. It’s harder. That’s why St. Paul recommends to people that they stay single. It’s easier to be saintly when you aren’t living with another human being and trying to raise children. But who ever said Christianity was supposed to be easy? Certainly not Jesus…

My two favourite saints of all time (next to my mother Mary of course), are St Therese of Lisieux and St Joan of Arc. I will probably do posts about each of them at some point. On the surface, they don’t seem to have much in common. St. Therese knew God was calling her to be a nun at a young age and so she moved heaven and earth to enter a nunnery at age 15, despite everyone (except her dad) trying to stop her. And she succeeded. Eventually she died of tuberculosis at age 24, but not before writing a beautiful story about the art of trusting God (click here for the free audiobook).

St. Joan of Arc began receiving visions of angels and saints when she was a young teen and God raised her up to become the youngest Commander and Chief of France in history (she was 17 years old, and had had no prior training in anything because she was a poor peasant girl). She led France’s armies to victory against the English over and over again despite overwhelming odds and placed a crown on the head of the rightful king, just as she’d promised she would. She was rewarded for her service by being abandoned to her enemies in the hour of her greatest need and burned to death by the Church that she so dearly loved and valiantly served at the age of 19. Mark Twain wrote a fantastic book about her that you can find the free audio recording of here.

What did these two young women have in common? They trusted God completely and were willing to risk everything for him, even their own lives and reputations. So if you’re a Christian, let me ask you something:

What have you risked for God today?

I’ve already risked everything I have for him: my life, my loved ones, my reputation. I’ve been physically slapped across the face, hand-cuffed twice, drugged against my will and shipped off to a mental hospital in a straight-jacket in the back of an ambulance, all because nobody was willing to believe my repeated, calm, ruthlessly rational explanations that I was fine and didn’t need this sort of treatment. That I wasn’t planning to hurt myself or anyone else. That I didn’t need taking care-of. That I wasn’t crazy. That the only label you can truly slap on me from the time I was a small kid is that I’m a goody-two-shoes.

Yes. Kasani Zanetti was at a psych ward this year. Does that make me crazy? I don’t know. You’ll have to decide for yourself. What I do know is that I was terrified the first two days that I was there because it was a mixed-gender ward and I was afraid of the other patients (the last time I was in a psych ward at age 16, I was too innocently naive to be scared of the other patients).

Then I began to realize something.

There wasn’t anything different between me and the other patients, except that they had a whole host of life-problems I didn’t have.

I didn’t meet a bunch of crazy people. I met an anxious, homesick single mother who was ashamed to be attending group therapy at a mental hospital while her own mother looked after her baby boy at home. I met a pregnant mother, no older than myself, with a physically abusive husband at home taking care of their two other young children. I met a young, overweight native man in a wheelchair because he’d lost his temper and kicked something so hard it broke his leg. I met a teenage girl who wants to become a singer/songwriter, who joked about Monty Python and was brave enough to admit in group therapy that she was there voluntarily because she was struggling with self-harm.

And those are just the patients. Don’t even get me started on the staff.

I went to a mental hospital, and guess what? I met a bunch of fellow human beings who had various labels stuck to them but their real problems weren’t “mental” problems. They were “life” problems. And the doctors still tried to screw me over and act like they knew better than me. Fortunately, I’ve done my research and am smarter than anyone ever gives me credit for.

Yes, I can take care of myself. No, I don’t need medications to do it.

Christmas was an immensely powerful time for me. I had a re-conversion experience in which I gave my life to God completely, again. I was surrounded by friends and family and overwhelmed by the beautiful, generous gifts I received from them.

joan of arc present
The St. Joan of Arc statue me dad got for me from the EWTN religious catalogue.

My dear friend Penelope down in the U.S made me these posters and mailed them to me.

My Light…

The above picture is of my two original characters, Muir and Althea, sprites from my fantasy novel that I’m currently working on. Muir was originally Penelope’s character, Mordred, from her authorian fantasy that she’s working on,  but we thought he would make a cute pairing with my main character. So then I loaned her my main character in return and she named her Anya. (See below picture)

…and My Dark

I had already been working on a Mordred-inspired piano composition last fall but the immense gratitude I felt for all the gifts, combined with inspiration from the bible (See Mary’s canticle in the first chapter of the Gospel of Luke) helped me finish this composition early in 2018.

 

 

 

 

 

Penelope and I are teaming up as artists and pooling our resources (our fan-bases) so we can launch out into the great not-so-unknown and become published authors. Penelope already has an online business doing commissions, so if you ever need any art done, please, please check her out. She is fantastic, and you can find her Patreon page here: P.J. Manley’s Patreon Page.

 

 

 

As for me. I will continue writing blog posts, making YouTube videos, and living my life. I refuse to let other people tell me what to do any longer. I will take respectful advice but I won’t necessarily follow it unless I agree with it. If you’re interested in my Patreon page you can find it here.

Thank you all so much for being who you are. ❤ You can read part 2 here.

 

Until next time, take care and God bless!

Kasani

 

 

The Advantage of Suffering – Part 2: Purgatory

In Part 1 of this post, I discussed the concept of putting your suffering to use by offering it up to God. Now I’d like to suggest a specific intention that you can keep in mind if you don’t already have a few that you can pull off the top of your head. This discussion may seem to diverge a little from the topic of suffering and head in a more theological direction, so bear with me. Purgatory is fundamentally tied to suffering, but for those who don’t understand the concept, I want to explain it first.

My understanding of Purgatory (which is certainly not perfect) goes something like this:

When God thought each of us into existence, we were a masterpiece. But we were born defaced by the effects of Original Sin. As we are now, we are not our true selves. We are not what God intends for us to be. But he sees our potential, and he knows we can be transformed back into the perfect works of art that he first created. As we progress through life, our choices have an effect on who we are. We are either cleaning God’s masterpiece off and revealing what he means for us to be, or we are defacing ourselves even further and becoming more and more unrecognizable in his eyes. If we die unrepentant, we choose to remain apart from God and refuse to allow him to clean us off. We end up like the five foolish virgins in the parable of the ten virgins. Death catches us unprepared, and we are so far from what God intended for us to be that we are virtually unrecognizable. If we demand to be let into heaven, we receive the heartbreaking reply “Amen, I say to you, I do not know you.” (Matthew 25:12) And we have no one to blame but ourselves.

But what if we die repentant? What then?

I think its probably safe to say that few people succeed in completely cleaning themselves up in this lifetime. Most of us will probably die with stains on our souls that we haven’t quite managed to rid ourselves of: various long-ingrained vices, negative or judgmental mindsets, weakness of faith, stubbornness, pride– just to name a few. As long as those stains are there, heaven won’t be heaven for us. It will be exceedingly uncomfortable, even unbearable. Why? Because we will be in the presence of the all-perfect, almighty God, and our failings will be completely laid bare. We won’t be able to hide from them, and they will become as much a torment to us as deep, festering wounds– not because God is punishing us, but because he loves us so utterly and completely and we will be so very painfully aware of how much we have hurt him and let him down.

This is Purgatory.

Purgatory is not some place we are sent to because we didn’t quite make the grade. It’s a state of existence– an uncomfortable one. Yes, Jesus died for us and paid the price for our sins. If we accept that salvation with our whole heart, we are guaranteed a place in heaven; thus, the souls in Purgatory are full of joy amidst their suffering. But they are suffering. It’s not a suffering being inflicted on them by God. It’s as I described before: when we die and stand before the Almighty, if we haven’t died in a state of utter sanctity, we will be like jigsaw puzzles with pieces missing. The price for our sins has been paid, but we are still not fit for heaven. The fact that we are so close to heaven, but not quite there, will, I suspect, be the main cause of our suffering. It will be like a traveler who has past through a desert and is dying of thirst, but has fallen to the ground just short of an oasis. He knows with a certainty that he will make it to the water without dying. He’s come that far. But oh, that remaining distance. Those final few feet of inching forward along the scorching hot sand, pulling himself with shaking limbs towards the Living Waters.

Now, this analogy isn’t quite accurate. We aren’t “earning” our way into heaven on our own steam through our suffering. It’s God’s grace that is cleansing us. But depending on where we are at when we die, that cleansing process might take a while. It might be difficult for us to submit to his healing touch. We might be willing, but hesitantly so, and God will never force himself on us.

Other people have given much better explanations of Purgatory than what I just gave. It’s simply my understanding of it. C.S. Lewis, in his book The Great Divorce, gave an insightful assessment of the matter:

“Our souls demand Purgatory, don’t they? Would it not break the heart if God said to us, “It is true, my son, that your breath smells and your rags drip with mud and slime, but we are charitable here and no one will upbraid you with these things, nor draw away from you. Enter into joy”? Should we not reply, “With submission, sir, and if there is no objection, I’d rather be cleansed first.” “It may hurt, you know”—even so, sir.”

The Catechism of the Catholic Church has this to say about Purgatory:

All who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter into the joy of heaven.

The Church gives the name Purgatory to this final purification of the elect, which is entirely different from the punishment of the damned. The Church formulated her doctrine of faith on Purgatory especially at the Councils of Florence and Trent. The tradition of the Church, by reference to certain texts of Scripture, speaks of a cleansing fire:

“as for certain lesser faults, we must believe that, before the Final Judgment, there is a purifying fire. He who is truth says that whoever utters blasphemy against the Holy Spirit will be pardoned neither in this age nor the age to come. From this sentence we understand that certain offenses can be forgiven in this age but certain others in the age to come.”

This teaching is also based on the practice of prayer for the dead, already mentioned in sacred Scripture: “therefore [Judas Maccabeus] made atonement for the dead, that they might be delivered from their sin.” From the beginning the Church has honoured the memory of the dead, and offered prayers in suffrage for them, above all the Eucharistic sacrifice, so that, thus purified, they may attain the beatific vision of God. The church also commends almsgiving, indulgences and works of penance undertaken on behalf of the dead:

“Let us help and commemorate them. If Job’s sons were purified by their father sacrifice, why would we doubt that our offerings for the dead bring them some consolation? Let us not hesitate to help those who have died and offer our prayers for them.” (CCC 1030-1032)

When you think about it, it makes sense, doesn’t it? But how does this tie into our discussion of suffering? We aren’t dead yet. We’re still on earth.

There are two points I want to touch on.

First off, our suffering on earth can help us to avoid Purgatory after our death. Think of it as an advance payment. Our free choice to accept/submit to suffering in this life is worth more than our potential sufferings in Purgatory. In one sense, people who suffer unbearably in their earthly existence have an advantage over people who don’t. I very much doubt they’ll be spending much time, if any, in Purgatory. Their earthly sufferings suffice to finish the cleansing process of their souls. With this in mind, accepting suffering in life can prove very beneficial to us after we die. But this isn’t the whole of it.

The second point is more important (as far as I’m concerned). We can assist the souls in Purgatory. In fact, they are relying on us to do so. The souls in Purgatory cannot pray for themselves. They rely on the prayers of the living and the saints (those already in heaven) to secure their entrance into paradise– so pray for your loved ones who have died. All of them. Even the ones who died years and years ago, or those who seemed like hopeless causes. Especially the ones who seemed like hopeless causes. God is outside of time. Your prayers now can assist someone who died decades ago. God can apply the graces you request for them in their final moments, since he sees you praying for that person fifty years after his or her death at the same instant as that person is dying. Your prayers have the potential to open that person’s heart to God, even if it was closed for an entire lifetime. And for those already in Purgatory, your prayers are like soothing balm applied to their wounds.

But even more than your prayers, you suffering can assist them. Just as you can offer your suffering up for a specific intention, you can offer your suffering up for the suffering souls. It’s like what Simon of Cyrene did for Jesus in carrying the cross. You ease their burden. And the wonderful thing is that the souls can return the favour. They can’t pray for themselves, but they can pray for those of us still on earth, and their prayers hold a lot of sway with God– more than ours do. They are much closer to Him than we are, and He takes pity on them in their suffering. You can even specifically ask the souls there to pray for you in exchange for your prayers for them. It’s a beautiful exchange. The value of your suffering is suddenly multiplied. It can be used to ease the suffering of those in Purgatory, or even completely free them, and their prayers for you in turn multiply the grace that your acceptance of your sufferings would have bestowed on you in the first place. And you better believe the souls you free will be watching over you in heaven and interceding for you with God, not to mention being there to pray for you if you wind up in Purgatory yourself.

So, to sum up this post and the previous one in a single sentence: if you accept your suffering and offer it to God, it can prove to be a huge advantage for you, and for others, because of the value it holds in His eyes. I encourage you to give it a try.

Also, I didn’t pull all these facts about Purgatory out of thin air. Most of what I know comes from the marvelous book Day by Day for the Holy Souls in Purgatory: 365 Reflections by Susan Tassone. It’s a very powerful, enlightening read, and I encourage you to check it out if the subject is interesting to you.

Have any questions? I encourage you to go take a look at this fascinating blog post by an Evangelical Protestant convert to Catholicism. He addresses several objections that most Protestants raise regarding Purgatory, and he does so very insightfully. It’s safe to say he has more knowledge about the subject than I do. If you still have any questions after that, feel free to leave me a comment.

Until next time,

Take care, and God bless!

Kasani