Not As Much..

My therapist asked me yesterday why it took me so long to get help when I new something was wrong for a long time. I told her I didn’t know but have reflected on this today.

The answer is that I subscribed to the fairly commonly held belief that if I believed hard enough and prayed about it enough then Jesus would come  and magically my anxiety and sadness would disappear.

I sought the council of others from within the established modern church who confirmed this belief. It was all about convincing myself that Jesus is the way to a happy perfect life and eventually it would happen. If I sing about being joyful eventually I will be.

Not so. His words never promise that, the opposite in some cases in fact  But it is what I was taught from being a baby Christian.  So the trouble is I struggle now with who Jesus actually is, what he actually promises and how does that affect my life in the here and now.

I do not doubt that his death and resurrection mean I have been forgiven of my sin and can live in heaven with Him one day

What I do not know is what do I do in the mean time. How do I interact with Jesus and He with me.

What is appropriate to pray and what is just based on the doggy belief that He is a mister fix it here to make my new life all plain sailing?

Once I thought I new how to hear His voice, no I know I don’t.

Any ideas?

I long to feel You wrap Your arms around me, to hear your voice

but my mind drifts to doubts and fears of loss and loneliness

I try to be convinced of Your promises and Your love

But I remain cynical and  confused

What is this perfect love?

Where do You start and the peddlers of religion finish?

why do You whisper and hide when the world shouts and hits me in the face?

I am sick of things hoped for and things unseen yet it is the foundation of faith.

I struggle to sit and be still, to quiet my mind that shouts abuse at all that I believe

I am here waiting-where are You?

Thursday: the feelings of anxiety have returned with a force that is threatening to knock me over. I awoke at about three in a cold sweat and did not return to sleep until the sun was peeping over the horizon. I feel sad and alone and trapped inside my skin which is prickly and itchy. What to do?

It frustrates me that I feel this way. There is no reason for me to feel like this. My life is good.I am dwelling on stupid things again. Such as contracting terminal disease, side affects of the drug (which I stupidly looked on Internet about when someone mentioned there were some very serious ones) There were heaps of sites about how dangerous the drug and the very serious side affects. why do I do it to myself? I should have known better but it was compulsive, I was drawn to the web. Like there was some type of pay off seeing bad news which I had already told myself was true.

Friday: I have had a complete melt down. In the car on a freeway and I had a huge panic attack. I automatically assumed I was dying. The next few hours were the worst I have ever felt. I was out of control and very scared.

Turns out that this all is quite common reaction to the drug I am on, only no one told me. Should I stop the drugs? All who know say not just take some sedatives to ride over this bump. in other words take more drugs to cover up what this one is doing to you. So I take the sedative and it makes me feel less anxious but like I ve been run over by a bus.

Saturday , a little better than Friday, Sunday a little better than Saturday and today better than all the days before.

I have decided to take one day at a time. I am going to see this through to the end knowing it is the way forward…… I think

This was what I was trying to say yesterday but much better put sometimes I wish I had a talent for writing

God Help us. With great skill and energy

we have ignored the sate of the human

heart. With politics and economics we have

denied the hearts needs. With eloquence,

wit and reason we have belittled the hearts

wisdom. With sophistication and style, with

science and technology, we have drowned

out the voice of the soul. The primitive voice,

the innocent voice. The truth. We cannot hear

our heart’s truth and thus we have betrayed

and belittled ourselves and pledged

madness to our children.

With skill and pride we have made for

ourselves and unhappy society

God be with us.

Amen 

Leunig  Common Prayer Collection

Thanks God for being constant, still and there

Thanks for whispering to me day and night, night and day of Your love for me

Thanks for listening to my never ending questions, doubts and fears without turning off or shutting me out

Thanks for being fair and righteous even when I do not recognize that You are

Thanks for Your arm extended towards me to lead me on even when I turn and run the other way.

Thanks for Your Love, Your Grace and Your Forgiveness that is always there even when I fail again and again

When my world has gone mad it is You that I choose to cling to , trust in and walk on with.

The wind in the trees outside this room where I sit reminds me that the unseen is just as real as those things visible to the eye

I was sharing with someone the other day that I have recently been diagnosed with an anxiety/depression disorder which I have had for some time. This person exclaimed “but you are the last person I would have thought to struggle with depression you seem so together”. What this person couldn’t see was inside my brain. Inside the happy, caring, friendly exterior is a scared, lonely sad little girl. I know I am 32 but I feel like a lost little girl most of the time. I have been encouraged to explore this inner unseen person, acknowledge that she exists and learn to work with the way she sees the world.

How many of us are living with an unseen personality that we are to afraid to acknowledge  exists even to those who we trust and love?

My therapist (yes I am “in therapy”) wants me to stand in front of the mirror and chant ” I am ok I am just sad and scared right now but I am ok”  I know this sound like psychobabble and I am not really into that type of stuff but I do see her point.

Is there anything wrong with being scared and sad?  why do we persist in the belief that these two emotions should not exists and therefore we suppress them choosing instead to smile, pull our socks up and push on. I know all about pushing on I did it for years- doesn’t work.

Today I make a resolve to not ignore my self any longer. If I feel sad, I will cry, if happy I will laugh, if angry I will find a way to vent that anger. I will rejoice during the the good days and be kind to myself during the bad. And, if I am scared I will be scared knowing that I am OK. That in the end I am still me. I will still be friendly, caring and loving I just wont be so together.

where were you yesterday when I couldn’t breathe and my heart was heavy?

you were waiting for me just down the road to follow

My brain screams that I am dying.

And you promise to be there when I do

I yell at the kids.

And you gently chastise me.

I am tired and emotionally spent.

And you send people for me to love and care for.

I am confused and wrestle with every area of my faith

And Your Word continues to speak in riddles and symbols that my tiny brain has no hope of understanding.

You say  you answer prayers

but never with the answer I think is best

Help me to be still and listen and know you are God 

This is my first piece for some time mainly due to technical issues but also because I didn’t feel I had anything worth contributing to anyone. I have since discovered that it is not about the everyone but  just writing my thoughts and if people choose to read well that’s good if not well that’s good too.

Life has been some how pressing in on me. Not that my life is stressful or terrible. I just find being a mother and wife and working  3 days difficult and there is often no room for me in all that.

I grab hold of others opinion because they sound good or I resonate with some of what they say without really understanding what it is they mean.

I stress about every inch of my life to the point where my anxiety is needing professional help to control.

I cry everyday for no reason and little things make me angry

I am always diagnosing myself with a terminal disease

Basically my soul is a mess

I have returned this week to the Psalms and find that David in the wilderness felt much like me. Scared alone and half crazy. I feel like my enemies (in this case the ones inside my own head) are constantly chasing me and I am on the run.

So I am going to write my own psalms. I am not a poet or a writer so my words will be stumbling and not worthy of any literary acclaim but they will be my words

A conversation between my messed up self and God-my journey to mental wholeness so maybe I wont be so “half crazed or mad” anymore