Living Dead

When all you want to do is die. When staying alive takes every ounce of energy you have and all vitality is gone. When you want to take your own life but just don't even have the energy to do it. When your greatest desire is to fall asleep and simply never wake up, but sleeping often feels impossible because you're also afraid that you may actually get what you want.

Life doesn't just feel empty. It feels dark and void. It feels pointless. You see no good in being alive, yet feel you must go on with it anyway. You hate every moment you're awake and you are dying inside, slowly painfully dying.

I could say that I’ve been there, but that’s not the whole truth. In reality, I revisit that place so very often. I used to think I was in a bad place, but when I end up there now, it’s even worse. I no longer just feel the pain of the present, but also of the past. I have PTSD and it causes me to have flashbacks and re-experiences of traumas I’ve lived through. There are nights I can’t get to sleep because the past shows up like a movie across my eyelids every time I close my eyes.

No matter how much I just want to end it all, I know I never could. I could never do that to my husband, the one person who has always stuck by me and never once made it about himself. He tries so hard to be whatever I need in any given situation, even when that need changes moment to moment. When I crumple on the floor because the dog won’t listen or a jar won’t open, he takes care of it and lifts me back up, both literally and figuratively.

Sometimes I can go months without falling into this cavern, but I always end up back in there. I am broken. But there is still some amount of hope in me. It’s the size of a mustard seed most days, but it’s there nonetheless.

Living Lonely

It's fine. I'll just go to my side, and wrap myself on the old familiar loneliness. At the edge of the bed.

I'll be afraid all by myself. I'll sleep to avoid reality, but force myself awake to end the n8ghtmares. I won't ask for help because you wouldn't know how to help anyway. 

So I'll be alone and lonely. I'll drink so I can sleep. I'll become an addict because I have no one there for me in my hour of need. You say I just have to ask, but when I do, you leave me lonely. 

I'm afraid to go outside. I'm afraid to be home alone. I'm afraid to split up when we go run errands. I'm honestly afraid of even being alive. I'm lonely and terrified because I have no one there when I need, and this world is far too upsetting for me.

Living Sick

I'm sick. I'm sicker than I care to admit. I'm too sick to function most days. I can't sleep. I can't eat. Sometimes, I literally can't breath. On occasion, I'm unable to breath just long enough for my knees to give way, and I start to collapse, but I come to before they completely give out. And somehow, I find myself disappointed. I'm disappointed that I didn't faint, that I didn't hit my head and end up in a coma. I'm disappointed that every ounce of anxiety is still there and nothing has changed in my life to relieve it.

When I say I'm sick, I mean my mental health is failing. I mean that it takes every bit of energy I have to make it through the day, even if all I do is lay in bed, maybe go to the living room to watch tv. It means that all vitality has left me. My mind is so full that it causes an overwhelm that leaves me too numb to process anything. I can't go shopping anymore because within ten minutes, I'm having a panic attack. I can't study anything because my mind won't focus.

For me, being sick means that it takes every ounce of self-control that my weak mind can muster, just to stay alive. It's painful. It's so, so painful. I cut because I think it'll help me express myself. I cut because it keeps me from doing something worse. I cut because I know it can help me feel better.
But I resist cutting because it scares my husband.

I pray and I pray and I pray, but the pain doesn't go away. I don't feel strengthened. I cry out, I beg for a lighter cross to carry, but it seems that this burden is what I'm meant to carry. It seems that my hope is in vain, and this is the death I am forced to live.

I'm simultaneously depressed and anxious. I'm both unable to care about anything and worried about everything. It's hell  Each day, I feel as though I'm living through hell. Sometimes, so rarely that I often forget they can exist, there's a day when I don't feel like crying, I don't have a panic attack, and death doesn't overtake my thoughts. On those days, I actually believe I'm alive, that I have a purpose, that things may actually be okay again. But I haven't seen that kind of day in so long, and I wonder if I ever will again. I wonder if I'm destined to live in fear of life and dread of a future.

Will I forever wish to be dead? Please, God, don't let it be.

From a Christian in Therapy

I hear about it all the time. "Therapy isn't the answer;" "Find a Christian counselor;" "Read the Bible;" "Have you prayed about it?"

I'm sorry, but please shut up. I'm a Christian, and I pray and read the Bible and listen to worship music. But that doesn't get at the underlying issues. I wholeheartedly believe that God wants us to find the root of our issues and learn how to heal from and overcome our life difficulties, which is the purpose of therapy.

Don't tell me that the answer isn't in therapy, because it is for many of us. When I meet with my therapist, I learn about myself. I learn why I have the insecurities that I have, why I shut down or dissociate when I feel like I have no voice, and how to better work through future stressors.

Therapy improves my relationships, including my relationship with God. I wouldn't know how to pray for myself if I didn't know whatis really going on with me. It allows me to pray for specifics. It has also made my relationship with my fiancé better because I am learning how to tell him what's going on with me, to help him understand what I'm feeling, to have patience when we disagree, and to work on our communication as a whole. It has taught me to open up more, to let friends in, and even to ask for help when I need it.

I have Bipolar type 2, PTSD, and an eating disorder.

Believe it or not, I can't just read a couple chapters in the Bible and suddenly be healed. Sure I can listen to worship music for a couple hours to help me feel less stressed about an exam or help me calm down when I'm worried about an upcoming event. But it won't heal all the pain I have and make all the abuse and neglect I sufered through as a child and adolescent just vanish from my memory.

When your friend is diagnsed with cancer, would you tell them that chemo isn't the answer, that they should talk to a pastor instead of an oncologist?

NO.

You would most likely pray for them, but you would also agree that the doctors know how to treat the disease.

So why do we treat mental illness as something other than what it actually is, a DISEASE? Is it because people just don't understand, or because they think it's a choice, or because they don't know how to respond, or do they believe that it's always and only a spiritual thing?

Sometimes, there could be a spiritual element to it, but when praying all day doesn't make it go away, it means that there's a physical element to it.

And let me make one thing very clear: It is NEVER a choice. It was not my choice to have a mother who is controlling, physically and verbally abusive, and just plain angry. It was not my choice to have a father who avoided our family as much as possible, choosing work over us. It was not my choice as a child, to learn that the only way to cope was to disguise my sadness as anger, and dissociate when it all became too overwhelming. It is not my choice to be haunted by memories of my past. It is not my choice to have depression and mania, or to see food as aversive, despite the fact that I know that I need to eat.

Each day, I get a little better. I have to fight, and it's not easy when it feels like the rest of the world thinks it's a made up battle. It's not easy when the battle is within, where you can never escape from. I am sick, no matter how you look at it. I have flashbacks most weeks, feel on edge as I walk down the street, and cry some days because I don't know what else to do. Some weeks, I have to fight just to get out of bed, and even more so to stay out of bed until night. I have to force myself, against my will, to go to class. Sometimes, I even struggle to shower or brush my teeth. The thing that has helped me be able to do these things when I don't think I can? Therapy. I have grown leaps and bounds in my ability to cope with life, thanks to therapy. I work very hard, with the help of one other person, to gain insight, build new connections, and grow. That's what it means to be in therapy, to grow.

If you don't know how to respond, ask people with mental disorders what they would like from you, or how you can help. Don't give advice if they don't ask for it. Ask them if they're ready to get help, and then ask them what kind of help they believe they need. Some people may want to talk to a Christian counselor, some may want to get medication from a psychiatrist, and others may want to see a therapist. Whatever they believe they need is okay because they know best what they need. I don't think there's anything wrong with seeing a Christian counselor, but what needs to be understood is that it isn't for everyone who's Christian.

Life of a Broken Girl

I need to be honest with myself. I'm not okay.
I try to be, but I just can't. I'm broken. I fall apart day in and day out.
I have been taught to trust no one, unless they prove to me that they can be trusted. And it's easy to break my trust. People complain to my boyfriend that I do not open up to them. They think I shut them out, that I don't want to let them in. But that couldn't be further from the truth.
I want to let you in, but I don't know how.
My mother broke promise after promise. My sister loves me, but at times, can be passive-aggressive. My mentor when I was in high school doesn't even talk to me anymore; she has moved on and doesn't even make an effort to see me when I tell her that I'm home during school breaks. My best friends from high school are no longer interested in maintaining any kind of relationship with me, yet just 2 years ago I was certain they would be my bridesmaids. My boyfriend (yes even him) sometimes speaks without thinking and tells his best friend something we had discussed that he knew was not for anyone else's ears.

There are those who I know love me, but sometimes make mistakes. There are also those who I'm not sure ever cared about me. Sometimes I know who's who, and sometimes I can't tell heads from tales, especially early on. I know my boyfriend loves me and he tries very hard to earn my trust. But those people from high school...well, I don't know if they ever really cared.

It's a long road to recovery. Learning to trust again is one of the most difficult things I have ever done.

When someone has trust issues, they don't know how to be the one who reaches out. They hurt too much to risk rejection. Rejection doesn't have to be a flat out dismissal; it could be something as simple as canceling plans early in your relationship with no clear intent of making new plans, or not including them in a group gathering. For me, it can be a simple declaration from an individual that they don't think I have any interest in opening up to them, especially when I hear it from someone else. It may not seem like it to the rest of the world, but to me, that's a rejection, and it can shut me down in an instant. Instead, you should go to the person directly and tell them that you would like to spend more time with them and get to know them better. You should invite them to study with you, go grocery shopping with you, spend a day at the beach together, or ask to have lunch together.

Take the time to get to know me. I want to know you, but I no longer have it in me to take the first step. I hide because I am afraid. I put up walls so that I can't be hurt. But in truth, I am hurting every time I don't talk. I'm hurting every time I shut down. I hurt every time you talk to others about me. I hurt.
Just love me. All I want is to be loved and accepted. I want to feel like I belong, and not because you're friends with my boyfriend or a friend of a friend. I want to feel like you are interested in a relationship with me because of me. I want to be whole again.

About a year ago now, I began my journey towards really healing, but I still have a long ways to go. I joined a sorority, a Christian sorority. Those of you who have been a part of the Greek system, you know that it's set up to force you to interact with others and ultimately to build (hopefully) lifelong friendships. For me, this was perfect. As a pledge, it was up to the actives to reach out to me, to build a supportive community around me. It prepared me to begin putting myself out there again, and when the next pledge class came around, I was ready to be vulnerable with them. But I still struggle to be vulnerable in other communities. Take the first step, open up to someone who seems very closed. They will trust you more if they know you won't judge them, and that you have made mistakes in much the same way as they had.

Through it all, I am still learning to pray, to seek healing and courage. I am yearning for the Lord's touch, for Him to help me trust again, for HIm to find safety in friendships.
Isaiah 40:31 "But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint."

HE WILL RENEW MY STRENGTH!!!

You are a Beautiful Life

So I'm in this women's studies class, and I really just cannot stand it. The whole class is about feminism, and I knew I wasn't a feminist before the class, but wow! I really couldn't believe just how incredibly unBiblical the whole feminist belief is. Actually, there are aspects that are absolutely Biblical causes, but they are taken in a completely God-less, nonscriptural manner.

The feminist thought is that women are all beautiful in their natural state, no make-up, no bra, etc. Also, feminism says that sexism has put these restraints on women, that sexism is to blame for the low self-esteem women have and the unrealistic expectations for their body to look a certain way. They say that women need to band together in sisterhood to overcome these sexist thoughts.

But that's not the case. Sexism is not the problem. Sin is the problem. Every girl wants to look like someone else because they don't feel beautiful enough. But this wasn't created by sexism. It was created by pride, by lust, by discontentment. Women should feel beautiful just the way they are. But that should not be decided by other women. Yes women should build each other up instead of tearing each other down, but that should not be the basis for self-worth.

We were made in God's image! He made us to be beautiful!

Did you know that everyone is beautiful just the way they are? Or that the only times the word "ugly" is used in the Bible is to describe the seven skinny cows in Pharaoh's dream?

And when God made man and woman, He said that it was good! He made us in His image, and He was very pleased with it. God does not create rubbish. He only creates the finest jewels.

Our identity should be found in Him, and in Him alone. He created you to be the very best you, and no one else could possibly be a more beautiful you. He made you to look just the way you do, and there is nothing wrong with you.

You are worthy of the love of a good man, a man who deserves a jewel like you. No matter what anyone has told you, your body is perfect. You are beautiful inside and out. You do not need to change for anyone because if they don't love you where you're at or they choose to tear you down instead of building you up, then they don't belong in your life.

Find people who want to build you up and want you to love yourself as much as they love you. Be healed in God's love, and let others love you. You are worthy.

You do not need to take up anorexia or bulimia. You do not need to weigh less than you do. You are not fat. You are beautiful in the Father's eyes, and there will be men who find you attractive just as you are, and other girls who would love to look like you. Beauty is inside of you. All you have to do is believe that it's there, and trust that God (you know, the creator of the whole universe) knew what He was doing when he designed every detail of who you are, from the way you laugh, to your thighs, your stomache, your emotions, and your ability to learn to love yourself.

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Life, sometimes it comes with regrets

We all have regrets, whether we wish we hadn't done something or we feel that we missed out on something. And we have all been told that it isn't good to dwell on those regrets. But we do it anyways. Maybe not all the time, but we do dwell on our regrets at least short periods of time. And sometimes those regrets overcome us.

Is it possible, that it's actually good to dwell sometimes? I think so. It's good to look back and reflect, to think about what we would change if we could. If I could change anything I would go back to my freshman year of high school, work my butt off to be the best athlete I could be, and instead of just playing volleyball, I would have played softball too. I would've still been home schooled, but I would have continued to play sports at my original high school, and probably would have found a way to afford to play club volleyball in the off seasons. And just maybe, I would have gone straight to a university instead of spending two years at a community college. That's really my biggest regret. I feel like I missed out on something by not living on campus my freshman year, meeting a bunch of people. And yes, I could still live in dorms next year, but why would I want to do that as a junior?

But in all honesty, there are certain things in my life now that I would never trade for these experiences I missed out on. I would never in a million years trade meeting the man I'm going to marry for my athletic career. And honestly, that's all. I would probably give up everything else, good or bad, that has taken place because of the decisions I've made.

No, I'm not throwing a pity party. I am simply deciding not to ignore the fact that life follows choice. I chose not to play volleyball anymore, to not apply to any colleges because I thought college wasn't for me, to give up on dreams and on myself. I am recognizing that I caused my life to go the way it has. No, I don't hate my life. I may greatly dislike certain things about it, but there are other things that I love even more.

I love my boyfriend, and I really liked being a nanny, and I'm now attending one of the top psychology programs in America. I have good friends, and go to a church I really like, and I'll be getting married in about 1 year.

It's okay to dwell on our regrets, as long as we also meditate on the blessings we are thankful for. Sometimes we have to look at the crap first in order to fix our vision God. We have to learn to appreciate everything that he has given us because in the blink of an eye it could all be gone. It's good to remember where we started, and all the progress we have made since. It's essential to know where we have failed, and where we have succeeded. God has great plans for us, and sometimes, that's easier to understand when we look back and see all the things that have turned out for the better. He makes all things work together for our good (Romans 8:28).

Do I wish the last 3 or 4 years of my life had gone a little differently? Sure. But I would never trade it for where my life is heading.