The Big Day

Tomorrow is a big day. All I can do is wait and hope things turn out a little better than lately.

If the tenor of my posts has been a tad disconcerting over the past couple of months, it's not without reason. I do my best to hold things together on the outside, mainly so I keep a job and family, but on the inside I have been a total wreck. If not for the all-sufficient Lord Jesus I would have long ago fallen apart. Thankfully these are the struggles and sufferings we face in His service, so that knowledge and steady guidance have held me together. That said, prayer and this forum are quite often the outlets I have been granted to share in these struggles with others. Because of the outlet, and because I use it to let other folks in the same boat know there's someone else out there struggling, the posts often reflect my darkness.

Of course, with this being a sharing of my mental struggles, I want those struggling with me to know they aren't the only ones who have medications "poop-out" on them. My primary maintenance medication has been slowly quitting on me for about two months. It's not completely gone, but most days I'm only seeing relief in the couple of hours immediately following a dose and again around bedtime. I have periods of either deep depression, needless anxiety, anger, overconfidence, or all of it at once, for about half of my waking hours. I also have returned to the joy of being awake for hours during the middle of the night. So, if you're in the group whose medications just quit, I'm right in there with you.

On to tomorrow. I have an appointment with the ole headshrinker to revisit medications. Thankfully through all of this I have been able to hold onto the stuff I've learned in counseling, but I'd really like to go beyond that and not have to talk myself off of ledges quite so often. So I'll get to share this whole process as it has happened and decide, with the doctor, where we go from here. Heck, we may stay with the same medicine at a different dose. I don't care what we do, I'm just ready to get some relief before I get into a really bad spot. I've been there and I really don't care to go back.

I'll check back in later this week to let you know how it's going.

I Want Off!

Have you ever been at a fair or theme park and been talked into riding a ride you wouldn't have chosen to ride? Your friends talk and talk, goading you into doing something you aren't comfortable with, and you cave. Walking up to the ride you're anxious, but as you stand in line the chatter takes your mind off of the fear and you are alright with things. You get to the front of the line and decide that, well I'm here so I'll go. The ride starts and gets to the first frightening part and it hits, "I WANT OFF OF THIS THING!!!"

Never having been a classic thrill-seeking type, I have had this experience many times. In fact it was not long ago my four year old son and I shared one of these experiences on Tower of Terror at Disney's Hollywood Studios. I had gone through riding it once when I was younger, being egged-on by my older brother, and had no plans of riding it ever again.

In our most recent trip to Disney World we went with my entire family, so my wife had someone to ride with other than me. She also talked the four year old into joining my brother, niece, and her on the ride. When it came time the four year old started to back out so I told him I would ride if he would. Turns out we would've both been happier with our feet on the ground. The photo of it is perfect- a 40 pound 4 year old and a 200 pound 33 year old cowering, stricken with fear, as the ride plummets back toward earth.

Of course you don't have much ability to think in those situations. You're pretty sure the ride operator's not going to care unless a body part is lopped off of someone, so you close your eyes and hang on for dear life. For me it usually sounds something like this, "Nobody's gotten hurt on this thing, well maybe they have... Most people that get on this thing get off just fine. You'll be fine, you'll be fine, it's almost over...."

Even some thrill seekers I know sort of go through what I do, but when it's over they are happy and want to go again. I don't understand it at all. If I got scared of something that was completely voluntary and meant for fun, I'm not getting back in line. Listen, I don't run in the candy shop to grab some cauliflower, I'm not going to the "Happiest Place on Earth" to have the (expletives deleted, this is a family blog) scared out of me.

Just imagine, though, you feel as I do about certain thrill rides. Then imagine, instead of being coerced into riding, you get hijacked at random times and strapped into one against your will. You have no control of it, there's no reason behind it, someone just grabs you and tosses you in the seat. You never wanted on, now all you want is off.

That is a lot like the feeling you get when you have no control over your own emotions. Like anyone else there are situations where we can't control our circumstances and our emotions follow. Those are sort of like the ride you chose to get on. Maybe you enjoy, maybe you don't. If it was a fun ride you walk away with a smile on your face, if it wasn't you say that you'll never do that again. But for me, so often, the reaction makes no sense to the circumstance. In fact, the emotion has nothing to do with the circumstance because it has been hijacked.

I suppose for anyone who would read this it's not news, but mood disorders are not something anyone chooses. They aren't people who blow things out of proportion or like to feel a certain way that is different than everyone else, they literally don't have control of it. That's the difference between being depressed and having depression. That's the difference between being hyper and mania. The list goes on but the fact remains, this is not a choice someone makes, but an illness not unlike flu, diabetes, or cancer.

This is not intended to be a soapbox or sermon. I guess I feel like I need to throw that last bit of information in, from time to time, because there is still such a stigma around mental conditions. I understand there is and I know there is often fear among the ill and caregivers about sharing. While I'm comfortable with my place in this story, I know there are people close to me who prefer nothing ever be mentioned about my condition; much less the fact that it has landed me in a psych hospital. The thing about it, though, is it is real and ignoring it does not make it go away.

If you are hurting and you want off, please reach out. Please call me or message me, call someone close who would understand, or call a help line. If you have no idea what it's like to feel like this, but someone close to you does, be tender. Realize they are on a roller coaster they would have never chosen and were never given a choice about.

Signs Along the Trail

Self-conflict is a way of life. Maybe it isn't for everyone, but if there is someone out there who never experiences conflicted feelings and is always content, I suspect they are probably crazier than I am. Personally, as lazy as I am, I can't even be lazy enough to not feel conflicted. Conflict is one of the parts of the motor that makes us go.

I guess it's only appropriate to use the overplayed analogy of life as a trail. It moves, it winds, it forks, it offers side-trips. The other thing it offers is the chance to grab a machete, turn off, and make a new path to somewhere no one has ever been. It all sounds like fun.

Conflict, though, is funny. All of that stuff sounds fun, but it means you have to get up and move. The conflict comes in and says, "I'm so comfortable, I don't want to go. It sounds like fun, though, maybe I should. It seems like a lot of effort, though, I don't know." In turn we get locked down in complacency while making decision of whether or not it makes sense to be complacent.

We do the same thing when we decide to go. We finally work through the conflict of whether to stay or go and head off down the trail. Along the trail there are signs, this way to here, that way to there. Arrows, warnings, cautions, exhortations, distances. There's also the innate knowledge there may be something exciting just over that way that no trail leads toward. We stop to think, "Hey, maybe we should try it. We have the gear, we don't have anywhere else we have to be, and it would be way cool to be the first to see it."

Then comes the conflict, "But if we go, there won't be any signs. Nothing really points us exactly where we want to go and, when we get to where we think we want to go, it may be way less cool than what was at the end of this trail. Plus, there may be tons of danger. No signs to tell us to look out for ledges or falling rocks. There's no path so there's probably some poison ivy." So, as a result of conflict, we spin back into complacency after earlier deciding not to be complacent.

All of that is exactly what it is like dealing with mood disorders. It's not just deciding whether to go or where to go, but a knotted up mess of anything from putting on a shirt in a very particular way to being so excited you bounce off in any direction without having given any thought to it. Wildly fluctuating from one thing to the next, often you suffer from a paralysis so deep the functions of everyday life become impossible. Everyday is the choice between a clearly marked trail of dread and a making a new path without direction or goal.

Here we stand frozen in conflict, whether literally on a trail or struggling with living our lives. Either way, how do we proceed? The key is knowing there are signs along the trail that is and signs along the trail that isn't.

My post a couple of days ago talked about monuments, or ebenezers. Signs on a trail that exist are easy enough, you've either passed them or see them ahead. They offer guidance along the way to a known destination. Signs on a trail that doesn't exist are different, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. We all carry a lifetime of experience with us. We know what has gone well, we know what has not. Both that which has gone poorly and well brought us to this place, why can't that knowledge carry us forward?

I guess that is a rambling way for me to say there is no excuse for our paralysis. Be it everyday conflict or the conflict that comes with mental disorders, the time comes when you realize you aren't moving. We must begin to recognize more quickly the paralysis of self-conflict, realize any trail we take is well marked, and move forward with confidence in that which has brought us thus far will carry us through to our destination.

Monuments and Markers

This week is the 25th anniversary of our church's founding. To lead into the week our pastor spoke about our ebenezers, or the times we can point to as reminders of God's faithfulness. I thought it an interesting topic, quite honestly because that is something I have been thinking about for a couple of weeks now.

The origin of the term ebenezer comes from the Hebrew Eben-Ezer, meaning stone of help or thus far God has helped us. There are two narratives on Eben-Ezer in the Old Testament; one detailing the capture of The Ark of the Covenant by the Philistines upon being taken into battle by the Israelites, the second is of Samuel offering sacrifice to God and Israel defeating the Philistines. After defeating the Philistines it is said that Samuel placed a stone as a remembrance and calls it Eben-Ezer.

I have not been focused on the past 25 years of our church, the seven years we have been part of the church, or some ancient rock a prophet set in place. I have, though, been thinking of the times when I realize God's faithfulness in my own life. God is always faithful, it's me who is unfaithful, and to that end I have looked for markers to remind me of the times when my blindness to his faithfulness was returned to sight.

There are so many markers to remind me of God's faithfulness. My wife, my kids, and my family all remind me of his blessings. My home, my health, my comfort, and my possessions remind me of his provision. These are constant, sustaining graces bestowed on me. While there are times any one of those things can be frustrating, I cannot think of a time when I have not been able to thank God for those things. I don't think those are my ebenezers.

Depression and bipolar, though, that is another story. Perfectionism is yet again another. Many of my years I stewarded those little kingdoms unto myself. I protected, sheltered, and grew them because I feared that part of my story was unacceptable to God. Those were some of the things where I relied on myself, where I worshiped at the alter of my own heart. I held closely to that brokenness for fear it would reveal my lack of faith.

Over the past year I have come to realize entering into brokenness, recognizing it for what it is, and accepting it as part of my nature have really set me free from myself. In setting me free of myself I have become free to be myself. Sure I still struggle and hold on to those broken pieces. They are my little idols and it takes a lot for me to hand them over. The difference is, time and time again, I find myself able to hand them over. When I do hand them over I find myself wrapped in loving arms, not the deep condemnation and contempt I drowned in when I was holding them. In not living for me, I find I am loved so much that I like being me for once.

Handing myself over, stewarding the brokenness by giving my heart away, is where I place my ebenezer. I even picked a physical marker to remind me of it. I'm not sure everyone needs to do that, but it's helpful for me. I can think of all the years when I felt so alone, so unloved, so reviled, and realize, even in the darkness of my own idol worship, God was faithful to bring me to today.

Co-existing Realities

I'm going to blame this on my brain chemistry, too. It's not as much blaming but accepting it in those times when I don't love it and cherishing it in those times where it is most helpful. It is certainly one of those things that can come across as a blessing and a curse, but again acceptance helps pair that down to what it is, something that is.

What in the world is this lunatic babbling about? I have a weird trait where I tend to be pessimistic when things are good and optimistic when things aren't so great. I'm starting to believe depression isn't as much about always being negative, but rather a constant attempt at rationalization. You see, whether we admit it or not, most of the time life is pretty good. Since life is pretty good most of the time, depressed people end up evaluating the other side of things. On those rare times when life is (and excuse my frankness) at its shittiest, we are often able to rationally see the other side and help people see hope in their misery.

I came to this idea as I was reading a book on negotiating. The book teaches negotiation shouldn't be based on managing a position, rather it should be started in looking at shared values while maintaining individual core values. Thinking about application of that idea I realized it is something I do all of the time. I constantly look at the other side of an equation to understand the value before I judge merits. That lead me to realize my brain is constantly taking a position against itself.

Maybe that isn't the case for everyone. I have said it before, I am not any sort of psych- anything; just a nut with an idea or two. I do realize, however, that it really is a blessing. If I can keep focused on the idea I can grab positives out of any negative situation, I can encourage someone else who is really hurting. What is it that we really need when we hurt more than comfort?