Last week was a bad week. Deep down I knew that I would have more bad days, weeks, and maybe even a month or two. I knew I would fall back into the pit again. A pit that is still in my path, but I believe it is not as deep anymore. I have also been reminded of this on occasion by people who support me.
I am in my second round of support group and wrote my story again this week. The story does not change. As mentioned in an earlier post, after the last time I wrote my story and read it aloud, I was then flooded with way more details about different incidents than I believed I was ready for. The hole I fell into that time seemed impossible to climb out of. With a lot of extra help and prayer from others, I made it. Fortunately nobody spouted “God never gives us more than we can handle.” For the record, this is not in the Bible. This is equivocal to bumper sticker theology or “Sunday school answers” that annoy me. What is in the Bible, for example, is 2 Corinthians 1:8-10 For we do not want to be unaware, brethren, of our affliction which came to us in Asia, that we were burdened excessively, beyond our strength, so we despaired even of life; indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves in order that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead; who delivered us from so great a peril of death, and will deliver us, He on whom we have set our hope. And He will yet deliver us.
Anyway….
I was caught off guard by the effect of writing my story again. I threw up. I suspect it was a combination of a couple of things. One was the fact I relived it yet again. My first version this time around was a pretty vague summary. I ended up writing it again with more details about how I felt and other sensory details, as recommended by the group leader. It was difficult to “feel” all that again. Second, is I have to read it aloud. There is something about saying it out loud that really makes it real. Once you speak it aloud, it can no longer be denied. This is an overwhelming reality.
Two days after group I saw my therapist. Seeing my therapist after group is a good thing but it is still difficult at times. I have made progress but we talked about a couple of hurdles I still need to work on with my personal relationships that are painful. They hurt because getting to the other side of them requires a level of trust and vulnerability I struggle to achieve. Not only do I have to trust them, I have to trust myself. Both are tough for me to do.
Later that evening, still processing my next steps, I got a call from the office of the new psychiatrist I was scheduled to see in a month. They were calling to tell me they had a cancellation for the following morning and asked if I wanted to move my appointment up. I took a deep breath and accepted. Panic set in. I sent a message to my therapist, finished the “New Patient” paperwork, took my medication, and went to sleep. The appointment overall went well but again I had to repeat my history out loud, tell her my diagnoses, and hope for acceptance. She did accept me but all together it tested the limits of my medicated nerves.
The rest of my week was tough due to issues with my kids, but I had reached my limit by that point. I went into autopilot, a phase that very easily could have lead to a crash. Sure there were things that went right with the week, but emotionally I was exhausted.
Through all of this I let go of God. Part of me kept trying to seek him in either by making sure the worship/inspirational music was playing in the car or a verse or line from this music would make it to the front of my brain during the day. Just about each time this happened another part of me said, “Oh, just shut up!”
Late Saturday night it all partially came around. While I had essentially let go of God, He never let go of me. He remained constant, never changing, and was just waiting for me to come around. He gently reminded me of a verse I had seen on another blog.
For I, the Lord, do not change...Malachi 3:6.
I am still uneasy about the upcoming reading of my story in the next week or so. There is no guarantee that next week is going to be any easier. Maybe, just maybe, I can seek help and comfort from the people who care for me and support me, and also seek God, who is always there for comfort and ready to hold me up. I just have to reach out.
Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28.
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