Journey of the Crazy One

Jun. 15, 2016

There are days that flow through time nice and smooth. Then there are days that you feel like you are bouncing down one of those twirly slides, your head bopping from side to side.

There are also seasons of both. And not to long ago, I experienced one of those seasons.

This isn't easy to share. I'm not proud of the dark place I found myself in, but it's the raw truth. And while painful, embarrassing and hard to share, I know someone out there has been there, lived it and understands.

Life had been rough. My son was in more trouble than a mom could take, my husband was working out of state, my dog was sick with cancer, and fall had quickly given way to winter- which in my world was a mood change all itself. My daughter was struggling with her new husband, and life became hard.

Slowly, I was slipping away. I put my daily mask on, managed to go to work, care for the house, try to help my son, but I was sinking. I felt so alone, so sad, and the depression that took hold was near impossible to battle.

Every night I thought of the guns, or pills, or even the rafters in the garage. I thought of dying more than I thought of living. Death just seemed easier. It may sound selfish to someone on the outside, it may be, but my will to live was slipping away.

I've spent years batting these thoughts, most of my life really, but this episode frightened me. This time there were no tears, there was only this emotionless pull to desire nothing. I'm not sure that makes sense, but I have no other words to explain it.

This went on for months. The loss of my dog made it worse, the disconnect from my husband, the spiraling of my son's kept coming, and I kept checking out. But no one knew. Not one person was aware of my suicidal thoughts, of the internal battle I was fighting to live. It's as though someone is in my head whispering how much better life would be dead. Sounds crazy, I know.

Obviously, I'm still here. I never reached for the gun, took any pills, or secured a rope in the garage.

I took very small steps to recover. Very small. I had to tell myself daily I was worth more than dying. I had to look in the mirror every morning and tell myself to stay. I had to truly embrace loving myself enough to let the idea of death go. With every small affirmation, positive thought, Bible scripture read, prayer, or short chats with myself, I began to heal and surrender, and let go of the dark desires of depression.

God was my only companion. He was my guide, and comfort, and He lifted me when I couldn't lift myself.

With bipolar, depressive days are near inevitable. But we can learn to get through them, alive. We can be our greatest inspiration. God loves us so very much, that's all we need to begin on the road to loving ourselves.

We can do all things through Him, who strengthens us!

Jun. 15, 2016
Jun. 8, 2016

I've never forgotten that day. I probably never will. I forget many things these days, but that day, will stay in my mind forever.

The truth had been revealed, yet again, and I was moving. I was going somewhere safe, where he would never touch me again. I was 13 years old, and that night it happened.

I walked into the bathroom, washed my face, fixed my hair, and put makeup on. I looked into that mirror, deep into the eyes that boldly stared back at me with a defiance I'd never seen before. And as though a switch had been flipped, suddenly the reflection that looked back at me changed. I saw myself there. Right there, was me, but it wasn't.

The chills I felt, the tears that wanted desperately to be released, and the pain that wanted nothing more than to escape the tight, angry hold that locked it away, were fighting a battle I had no control over.

In one night, one moment, the reflection in the mirror was lying. Because while it was my face, my hair, and my body, it was never me.

No one knew.

It would be decades before I would share the rage, the evil I could literally feel pouring out from every inch of my body. I would spend years having no idea what bipolar is, I would live secretly believing I had multiple personalities, trying to control the extreme changes in mood and behavior I would experience.

When people saw me, they saw the same person who existed the night before 'the change'..but I knew.

I knew reflections lie.

‪#‎bipolar‬ ‪#‎mentalhealthawareness‬

**This blog discussion in no way is meant to replace a diagnosis, treatment plan or help of a professional doctor or counselor. If you are in need of medical help, I advise you to seek the assistance of your medical team immediately.

Jun. 8, 2016

I sat there, kneeling, alone.
I looked down at my wrists. Both showed the past that I couldn't hide.
The scars ran across, up and down. I slowly ran my fingers over each. No one knew these scars existed.

Like every other part of my life, I hid them well.

As the tears fell down my cheeks, the sobs couldn't be contained, though I silenced them perfectly. I didn't need to wake anyone with this outburst of emotion.

There, in my livingroom, the pain that I'd never dealt with surfaced. I could feel it from my head to my toes.
My heart ached for healing, and normalcy.

With no one to turn to, with no where to go, I fell to my knees. Not wanting to live another day.

And it was there, in that room, that God saved me. I'd accepted Jesus Christ years ago. This wasn't a spiritual saving. No, it was a literal life saving moment. I thought I was there crying alone, but He never left my side. And he saw it all, he knew it all.

What I successfully hid from the people in my life, I could never hide from him.

God showed me in one cold, lonely night that he knew all my hidden secrets, and that it didn't matter.
Because as broken as I may have been...

...He loved me through it all.

‪#‎bipolar‬ ‪#‎mentalhealthawareness‬

**This blog discussion in no way is meant to replace a diagnosis, treatment plan or help of a professional doctor or counselor. If you are in need of medical help, I advise you to seek the assistance of your medical team immediately.

Jun. 6, 2016

I've met my darkest place. I traveled through some weird tunnel, that I have a faint memory of, to get there.

It began when I took a position in the E.R. working grave yard shifts. In case you aren't aware, sleep deprivation and bipolar aren't close friends, as a matter of fact, I'm not sure they're friends at all!

Slowly 'the change' began.

I was taking risks that I'd not taken in years. I was fueling myself with drinks like red bull. I was moving at a pace that would eventually bring every part of my life to the darkest time I'd yet to encounter.

In those days, locked behind doors of a mental hospital, I never felt more alone. I had messed my life up with this manic episode. My bills were being neglected, I almost lost my car! I had separated from my husband. I hadn't been to church in months, with the life I was living, I couldn't go. This was my first mistake!

Then, in walked a pastor and his team, just to lead us 'crazy people' in a worship service. Right there in the middle of the psych wing. I had no idea anyone cared enough to lead us in worship from these imprisoned walls.

You see, even in my darkest place, God was there, and he sent some of his beloved to love a bit on me.

The words we sang..
"As the deer pants for the water,
so my soul longs after you"..

I realized I can chase many things when in a manic state, or I can chase after Jesus Christ. I made a decision that day to run full force toward my Savior.

His love never fails.


**This blog discussion in no way is meant to replace a diagnosis, treatment plan or help of a professional doctor or counselor. If you are in need of medical help, I advise you to seek the assistance of your medical team immediately.