Who Am I?
So on Friday my husband says to me, I want you to go see your doctor. I want you to go see your sister. I want you to go see your friend. I just want you to go where you need to. I’m trying and I can’t fix it, he said with tears and frustration.
This is a journey through mental illness, and wellness, and illness. It’s a roller coaster ride.
By the Grace of God I am His despite being a broken vessel.
The Storm In Me
The lyrics of the song, Who Am I by Casting Crowns, go on to say that God will call out through the rain and calm the storm in me. And He did. I’m doing great today.
But it was a long hard battle and I try not to write when I’m in the midst of one, lest I shake someone’s faith by my poor witness. I will however, be glad to let you know when I have been through the valley and I’ve succeeded in reaching the mountain top again with God’s help. So here’s the story.
I’ve seen the post around FB and shared it as well:
Depression is when you don’t care about anything
Anxiety is when you care too much about everything
And having both is just like hell
Hell had lasted so long I didn’t know what normal was. Med adjustments weren’t making a difference.
So I did go to my sister’s, though I worried about my negative demeanor around her and her family. I didn’t want to be who I was in anyone’s presence. But I had to go somewhere.
All the way there I cried and begged for this life just to be over. I played my Christian Worship music; it fell on deaf ears. I pulled over several times just to cry out in my pain. Now this is mental illness– when you can’t even name your tormentor.
Sunday morning we went to church where the sermon was about running the race ( Hebrews 12:1-2) and finishing well. I heard the words but they didn’t affect me. I was still crying , not to be consoled. My sister sent me home afterward telling me again, see your doctor this week. Let her get your medication right.
It was a scary thing for both my husband and my sister to let me drive in my condition, but I had to go.
Halfway through the trip home I stopped to see my son. He is a Christian. He is disappointed with God because during court battles that put him behind bars he had great Faith that God had this in hand. Even after the sentencing he had great faith that if he were to be there it must be that there was someone inside that needed his witness. He could conduct Bible studies and spread the Gospel. Do God’s work. And he did for so long…so long…
But then….on Sunday, we were helpless to help each other. His tearful eyes looked into my own. We talked about not dwelling on it. We both have faith- but talking about how our faith was hurting was not uplifting for either of us. We decided to talk about other things.
When I left there, I got into my car and my music started up—that’s when it all came together. The sermon, my sweet son’s tearful eyes and the praise music. It jelled. God called out through the rain to calm the storm in me.
The Pastor’s words of encouragement to run the race and finish well became a real mission again for me. My son needs me to run again and to lift him up. My friends, who suffer the same as I do, need me to encourage them to put their running shoes back on.
The music was wonderful and I got my worship on all the way home. When I arrived home I planned my recovery schedule. It includes gratefulness in all things, each and every day. Scheduled visits with those I know need encouragement. Work I had put off because I was sick. Study of God’s word, and prayer because God requires it. We may not see the results always and it causes anxiety-“Does He hear me?”
He is worthy regardless, I’ll do it because He desires it.
I’m back. Really. My sickness will rear its ugly head again at some point. But God’s always got my back. He’s always good and I just have to remember to praise Him all the way through the storm lest I shake someone’s faith while I go through it.
Finishing the race well is as important as finishing the race.