March 30th Thoughts

I sometimes wonder if I'm the only person who feels this darkness working it's way up inside.  I remember soon after that I am not alone.  Everyone has their darkness to fight, whatever that may be for you I hope it's a battle you win someday.

It's funny because I find there are many times when I want her to come forward.  This black and twisty thing inside of me.  I think of her as....well....a her, so that's how I'll refer to her here too.

She's always there, dark, and just staring at me, waiting for her moment to pounce.  And when she gets a hold of me, oh the simple joy and pure adrenaline I feel.  It's a challenging thing living with mania because the mania itself is delicious.  She comes in and starts tearing down walls.  She uses a sledge hammer to destroy everything I've struggled to build because she knows I have absolutely no use for it at all.  She knows that it's all just holding me back from what I really want.  The things I really desire.  Those thoughts that I do everything in my power to keep hidden, caged, quiet.  She comes in and before I even realize what she has done, she has destroyed my inhibitions.  My mind opens in a way that only those of us with the same problem can understand.  But I'll do my best to explain it to those who don't have to fight the beast.

For me the mania comes in the form of creativity, and I LOVE IT.  Even though I'm medicated now and my mania states are much, much, more subdued; I love when it happens.  I can create poetry, paintings, sketches, drawings, it seems like a never ending font of creation.  Every fiber I am made up of wants to take the things in my life that are causing me any sort of pain and use them to create something new.

Sounds great right?  Sounds like fun?  Sounds exciting?
Oh she is, she is, she is!  Until...

Until the spark starts to burn so hot and so fast that I can no longer control it.  She has turned from a spark to a blaze, and I am what will feed her.  This is when I start to lose control and she weasels her dark and twisty way into me.  Thoughts that threaten my marriage come into my mind.  Thoughts that make me question my Lord.  Thoughts that make me doubt everything I've worked for as a human child of God.  I feel guilty about things I want, things I'm thinking about.  Actions I feel I wish I could take....
Actions I'm terrified I would take if offered.

She holds me down and starts to wrap me up in her sick lullaby of ego and promise.

This is where the story changes for me.  Thankfully this time, and the last 326, and hopefully the infinite number to come, the story changes.

My Father speaks to me.  He holds my heart in His hands, my soul is only His to keep.  He loves me still.  He loved me then.  He will love me until the end of time.  That grace I have been given for not a single reason sustains me.  I can make it through the dark times.  Sometimes I may even make it through unscathed.  But even if I don't He is still there, He still loves me.

There are no checks and balances to Him.  One sin, 100 sins, heck even thousands of sins every day will never stop His love.

And no, just like I will always have to take my meds, like it or not; knowing this does not change the fact I need to follow the Lord's example in Jesus.  I need to love my fellow man, and that includes me.  I need to remember that compassion needs to be paramount in my life.  None of this means that I should just keep sinning.  No, it is not a "free pass" as it were.  I should try to do better every single day because He loves me.  If I love the Lord then I should want to do what He asks of me.  But even so when I do fail He will still be there every time with the same infinite love, compassion, grace.

Sleep as a Lost Art

I can only assume my attention is needed somehow. I lay here looking into nothing, wanting nothing more than for this nothing I see to be even less of a something. What to do when your mind refuses to shut up, and forcing quiet is not an option. 

Counting sheep - the aforementioned mind is a problem, as I lose count and my sheep just start wandering around and refuse to jump

Meditation - hopeless on oh so many levels

Blogging - apparently does a body no good, but proven (eventual) to help tire the mind 

Yawning has commenced so we are getting somewhere. 

Breath

There is one realization that I know must be shared.  I know my daughter saved my life.  She was a gift from the Father, one I never would have chosen for myself.

She was the last thing I wanted in the moment I found out I had her.  I thought I would never be able to walk through the fear to have her.  This was not fear of a spider, or even fear of assault.  This was soul crushing and paralyzing fear.  This was knock me to my knees giving everything up to the Lord kind of fear.  

Here is where I learned to trust God fully.

Here is where I learned that trusting in God fully did not mean everything would be instantly better, or even easy.

My daughter bore me into the world long before I bore her into it. I had debilitating postpartum depression after my son was born.  I was in therapy, I was dealing well, I was refusing meds.  When she was given to me I knew I had no other choice left.  I could never make it through that kind of darkness again without hurting myself and my children. Those feelings and thoughts are impossible to understand if you've never been close to them in some way.  But I guarantee you it would have ended so very badly.

Except,

She was gifted to me.  I knew I had to start taking the meds I was told to take. I knew if I ever wanted to make it through they would become a permanent part of my life. And because I was terrified of feeling that depression again I took them.

My daughter saved my life.

I can say now with a clear(er) head that she did.  That I know she did.  I am still a person who deals with depression/anxiety.  I always will be.  But I can say with confidence that if it weren't for these meds I know I would have tried to take my life one day.  I don't say this as a "I might do that" statement; I say this as an "I KNOW" statement.  

So many things, to many to go into, lead to my accepting who I am and the problems I face.  But the basis for all of it is that one sentence:

My daughter saved my life.

Rebecca Grace

Rebecca - For my sister and my friend who died far to young but loved much

Grace - because she is my tangible example of God's Grace