Nerd

As most of you follow me on Twitter, you already know that I got a distinction for my essay. :D I’m feeling quite proud of myself. Especially as I wasn’t in a particularly good place when I wrote it.

I love my classes so much. I get over-excited every week because of how much I love them. This year I’m studying about the language of the Qur’an and it fascinates me. Through studying the language, you can come to a better understanding of the contents, the meaning. And I just love learning the Arabic language. In minute detail. I can talk about it at great length and bore all my friends, and my husband, and anybody who has the misfortune to come across me… Yes, I am a nerd.

There are seven students in the class and we sit down for two hours a week. The professor never uses notes. Everything is stored away in his memory. We have never been given a syllabus or reading guide. There are no electronic resources, which sets this course apart from the majority of the university. He is old school. I like it. We open a chapter of the Qur’an and examine it in minute detail. It fascinates me.

This is my passion. There are only two things in my life that my opinions never change on: My husband and studying Islam. Everything else changes with my moods. I know that studying, writing and teaching are what I want to do with my life. If I had got a low grade on the essay I would still feel this way. But it’s good to get confirmation in the grade, it feels like a validation somehow.

I even have a new little project, which is exciting me quite a lot. Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime… ;-)

2010
02/09
CATEGORY
Happy Beans
Life, the Universe and Everything
TAGS



9 comments

Lithium Baby!

First, thank you all for your comments on the last post. They were all really helpful.

I had my first psychiatrist appointment of the year this morning. I was a teensy tiny bit nervous. I had prepared as best I could. Before Christmas he took me off my antidepressant in the hope that my moods would stabilise. They haven’t. So I started researching different mood stabilisers. I came up with Lithium and Topamax (Topiramate). I wasn’t sure he would agree with me, so I researched as much as I could. I also thought of Albify, but I have known people to become pretty agitated on that, and more agitation is the last thing I need.

I printed off my mood chart from the last month and gave it to him to look at. I also did my best to describe all the different mood states I have experienced. He instantly suggested Lithium. Who knew it could be so easy?

So that’s it. Goodbye Sodium Valproate, hello Lithium. I will halve my dosage of the Valproate for the next week, then stop it, and start the Lithium. Weekly blood tests and weekly meetings with the psychiatrist as we titrate the dosage up. Seems pretty hefty, but you know what? I’m excited. I’m sooooooooo beyond ready to find some stability. I’ve had enough. Enough I tell you! I don’t mind it taking time, tweaking, med changes, etc., so long as I’m getting somewhere. So long as I can see some improvement, any improvement.

And you know what else? He’s actually fully booked until APRIL, but is squeezing me in every week to help me through this. This is an NHS psychiatrist, who is putting himself out to fulfil his duty of care for me. Wow. He’s very different from the others that I have seen.

No more Valium though. :( I’m being referred for CBT instead. They really don’t like those Benzo thingy meds here.

This is brief, I know. The rapid shifts in mood have left my brain fried. I have half-written posts all over the place. Apologies.

2010
02/03
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Mental Illness
TAGS









9 comments

Advice Please. Pretty Please?

I tried inserting a screenshot of my mood graph this month into the post but it got too complicated and I couldn’t be bothered.

This is a post asking for advice. My psychiatrist’s idea was that by eliminating an antidepressant from my med cocktail, my moods would stabilise. They haven’t. They’re not really better now than they were when he signed me off work, which is a tad frightening. In the 21 days that I have been charting I have seen a steady progression into ever more erratic mood swings, 12 days of depression, 5 days of hypomania and 4 days of relative stability. Relative because even on those days I had anxiety and irritability to contend with. And I’m not sure I even charted right sometimes, because I’ve been mixed some days and there isn’t an option for charting that. I tend to chart it as depressed with high levels of irritability and anxiety. Or sometimes it could be hypomanic with high levels of anxiety and irritability? Man, complicated. So anyway, I’m thinking that the Sodium Valproate may not be entirely working. It’s a mood stabiliser which is not stabilising my moods.

He mentioned potentially adding an antipsychotic into the mix, for their mood stabilising properties and for anxiety. I’m a bit hesitant about this, for the following reasons:

  1. Weight gain. I know, shallow, but I have a thing about it, I’ve gained enough weight over the last year, shifting it is proving hard enough without more of the same.
  2. Drowsiness. I’m not a morning person. Repeat after me, I am not a morning person. More drugs which would make it even harder to get out of bed and function at work?
  3. Why not try a different mood stabiliser before complicating things? Keep it simple, people.

So, does anyone care to share about which mood stabilisers they have had luck with? Ta muchly.

Of course, just because I go to see him with lots of good ideas does not mean that he will take any notice of me whatsoever.

2010
01/25
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Mental Illness
TAGS





19 comments

Ick, Messy Head

I’m trying to make sense of the mess inside my head. I’m not sure if I can get it all out here. When I feel like this, my brain shuts down, goes into “essential functions only” mode. There’s too much, there’s too much, there’s too much, so I stop. I stop everything. This week was horrible, so today I slept till noon (hooray!), had a bath, got myself waxed (always a pleasant experience), bought some stuff from a charity shop, opened a bottle of wine and am now on my third episode of Star Trek Voyager.

Maybe that’s enough. Maybe that alone can bring me back to a place where I can control my moods. Maybe?

Before Christmas, when I was signed off from work, my boss suggested going back part-time to start off with. Naturally, I refused this offer, saying I’m sure I’ll be fine, I can manage, etc. Now I’m not so sure. My first two weeks back were interrupted by the snow, so this was my first full week back. I crumbled on Thursday. Each day became progressively worse – anxiety, aggression, irritation, hypomania, exhaustion and depression, all in one week. Nice. I dissolved into tears within half and hour of arriving on Thursday and then spent the rest of the day either crying or trying not to cry, whilst at the same time trying to quell the nausea and breathlessness that comes with panic. Win!

My boss was a tad “short” with me in the afternoon and I ended up emailing her to tell her that I was not fine and asking her to please be gentle with me. She thanked me for informing her, that was it. Credit where it’s due, she left me alone for the rest of the day, but was her usual brusque self yesterday. Sigh.

I’m the one who’s ill, she should be looking after me, not the other way around. I do understand, mental illness is difficult for “normals” to get. I have to explain to her what’s going on with me, so that she can respond appropriately. See, I get it. I am an adult with a brain. But bollocks, I can’t seem to summon up the energy to do that! It’s hard enough just getting through each day, without having to baby-step my boss through this as well.

I woke up this morning with a feeling of impending doom. Knowing that my boss thinks that because I’m back at work, I’m therefore “over it”. So I went back to sleep and slept till noon. And now here I am, six hours later, trying to sort some stuff out. I’m not always depressed, you know. I have a bubbly personality. I talk a lot. Possibly why my boss can’t stand me. There are too many different parts too me, all combined into one. And at times it makes me want to rip my head apart, pull all the bits out and put them into separate boxes and lock them with a padlock. You know, let them out when it’s appropriate for them to be out. Instead, they pop out at the most inconvenient times and I can’t seem to control them. Sigh.

Dammit, I’m not much better than I was when my psychiatrist made me leave work for six weeks. The only difference is that I have learned a few coping mechanisms, which by the way, are rapidly deserting me.

I haven’t even proof-read this, don’t have the time, I’m going back to my wine now.

2010
01/23
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Mental Illness
TAGS
8 comments

This Life Thingy. It’s Hard.

Why, just as you are celebrating a success, does life have to remind you that it’s shit? I finished my essay on Sunday, and handed it in a day before the deadline. Woo!

But. I went to church on Sunday. I was singing in the music group. I slept in (due to ten hour editing session on Saturday) and so was late to the practice. Therefore, I was not in the best mood. I snapped at someone. When he asked me why I had done it I reassured him that it was nothing personal, just tired, etc. I asked for a few minutes space to calm myself down. Then someone else cornered me, in a corridor no less, and asked me the same questions. Do I have a problem? No matter how many times I said that I didn’t, it just didn’t seem to sink in. I was then told that I was unfit to sing. I took it well, I graciously said “fine!” and stomped out of church before the service had even begun. Nice, yes? Being cornered in a corridor and subjected to a barrage of questions does nothing for my communication skills.

I have now had to write a letter to the entire band, explaining my situation to them. Basically telling them that although I am better than I was a couple of months ago, I am by no means stable. Therefore, although I will always try to clamp my mouth shut if I am irritable, hypomanic, etc., I can’t promise that I will always be successful. If they can’t deal with that then I will step down from my role.

I wonder how this will be received?

I have cut the events and contents of my letter down here, I’m sure you don’t want to hear every boring detail of my life. Suffice it to say, I’m tired, so tired. I feel like if I could just get about three days solid sleep then I might be able to function more like a normal human being. My moods are cycling fast. I went hypomanic yesterday morning, the usual symptoms: rapid speech, shaking hands, inability to sit still, and so on. But I had to sit through a two hour lecture in the afternoon, so I took one of my few remaining Valium tablets to slow myself down. It turns out that Valium turns me into a zombie when I am already exhausted. So what the hell am I supposed to do? Just plough on, one tiny step at a time, I suppose. I see my psychiatrist again in two weeks. Two weeks. I can manage for two weeks.

It’s just a shame that forcing myself to function all day every day is utterly exhausting.

Excuse me. I must now go and snarl at someone.

2010
01/20
CATEGORY
Church
Life, the Universe and Everything
Mental Illness
Rants
TAGS



13 comments

Sadness

I read this week that Avatar has been leaving audiences depressed. I can understand how that could happen. I loved the film, I loved all the pretty colours, I loved the commentary on our world, I loved the escapism to a utopian world. I can understand why people, after watching it, would feel sickened by our world, the real world.

I often want to escape. I often feel unable to cope with life.

The step-daughter behaved badly to hubby yesterday, on his birthday no less. I am surprised by how am I continually surprised by anything she does. She has decided that she hates the world. Shit has happened to her so apparently that gives her the right to treat other people like shit. It’s a no-win situation. When she’s out of hubby’s life she makes people miserable. When she’s in his life she makes people miserable.

Look at this horrific situation in Haiti. Such suffering. Words cannot express it. And it happens every day, all around the world. They don’t have the option of escaping. Will being selfish help them?

I will fight. I will not become somebody who is utterly self-obsessed, to the point of being unable to care for other people. I have my place in the world. It’s not an important place. I have a role to play in this world. It’s not an important role. But I will do it.

There is such sadness in my heart. For this world. And also for myself. But that seems to be acceptable to me right now. Of course there is sadness. The answer is not to run away from it. The answer (for me at least) is to do something, anything, no matter how small, to help to heal this world. And I will pray.

2010
01/16
CATEGORY
Inner Thoughts
Life, the Universe and Everything
Mental Illness
The Balrog
TAGS







4 comments

Small? Blessings

This week hasn’t been quite the return to work that I had been preparing myself for. First, the heating was off in the building so we were all sent home early. Then the snow hit, which again forced me home early and then stopped me going in altogether. Today, I was going to go in, but IBS hit within five minutes of getting out of bed and just stayed and stayed. Difficult to get on a train when you can’t leave the bathroom, and even if you could, you can’t stand up straight.

So instead, I have been working on my essay. Thank you so much to Ellisinwonderland for the tips on how to get the thoughts flowing. I am now at my word limit and nowhere near finished! There is still so much to write, so many ideas to articulate, so many details… but I’d rather be in a position of having to delete sections, than scraping around in my befuddled brain trying to think of something, anything to say. So go me! And yay for my husband who rewarded me for my labours last night by going out in the snow to get me some chip shop chips and a battered sausage. *Smooches*

Hubby is firmly back in the step-daughter’s life, which is a good thing. She didn’t ditch my flowers as soon as she received them. She kept them and actually thanked him for them on Christmas Day. He has seen quite a lot of her this week and is helping her out with a few things. I know that this is good, and I am very thankful for it, but having her back in his life has caused my anxiety levels to raise again. It’s harder to keep her in a box. But I’m getting better. At the beginning of the week, when I saw her name in a text I nearly had a panic attack. Now when I hear him talking about her I can just about keep the screaming mixed emotions down to a dull roar.

And on the subject of the step-daughter, her eldest son spoke with me on Facebook today. For the first time in three months. Can you imagine how big my smile was? Actually, I’ve found it hard to wipe that silly grin off my face ever since. I seriously thought that she had succeeded in poisoning him against me. This sweet is still tinged with bitter, of course. I still can’t see them, because that would involve seeing her. My heart still aches. My dreams are still haunted by her. But I will be happy and thankful for small blessings when they come my way.

2010
01/08
CATEGORY
Happy Beans
IBS
Life, the Universe and Everything
The Balrog
TAGS








3 comments

Don’t Look Directly At It

Today was my first day back at work, after six weeks off sick. I coped. It was helpful that the heating was broken and it was so cold that we were all sent home at lunchtime.

I came home and decided to work on my essay given that it is due in two weeks time. I have written just over 1,500 words out of 3,500. Sounds promising, right? Lets not think about the fact that those 1,500 words are notes. Well, after failing miserably at writing more than two lines on my essay in two hours, I decided to request an appointment with the student disability officer at university. I think I need some help. It has always been an option but I didn’t want to face it.

Hubby doesn’t get it. I told him I’d requested the appointment and he just said I need to have more faith in myself. Like believing I can do it will suddenly give me what I need to write the essay. It doesn’t work like that though, does it? I do believe I can do it, I know this subject (kind of), I’m passionate about it, I know I have it in me to get a really good mark… but something isn’t working. [EDIT: I did not intend to criticise my husband with what I wrote here. He is wonderful and incredibly supportive, constantly reminding me that I can do it. It was just in this particular conversation that he did not understand my point of view, he has so much faith in me that he thinks I am capable of pulling this off all by myself, and maybe I am. However, I’m going to get some support anyway, just in case]

I can’t just forge ahead and then get to the deadline date and hand in something rubbish. I just can’t do that to myself. This MA means too much to me.

Everything is so scattered in my head, so messed up, so fuzzy. In the six weeks I have had off work some things have changed. I am no longer fighting off panic attacks every day. It’s been a week or so since I last burst into uncontrollable tears. I think. But something is wrong. I don’t feel as though I have moved on at all from where I was when I broke down in the first place. I have recognised a few patterns in myself, I have almost learned how to smile even though my heart is screaming, but I think I’ve just been papering over the cracks.

Oops.

My new motto which runs round my head all day every day is “one step at a time”. I know, profound. But it’s what I have to do. View each day as a series of miniscule steps. And I have almost managed to convince myself that that’s enough. Don’t look too closely at the mess of crap inside my head, because it might overwhelm me. But then the longer I don’t look at it, the more it builds, and I’ll end up being overwhelmed anyway.

Getting over this breakdown is proving difficult.

2010
01/04
CATEGORY
Mental Illness
TAGS


15 comments

Sensitive

Emotions. Pesky things. I have been trying to write this post for over a week but every time I sit down to type nothing comes out. I’ve been thinking about Cyclothymia and Bipolar and anxiety and the step-daughter and going back to work and and and…

I’m not even sure if I’m still technically considered to be Cyclothymic, the psychiatrist has been a bit cagey about that, maybe he’s considering bumping me up a rung. Or it’s possible that he’s just refusing to comment due to the fact that I obsess over details like that. Which would probably shove my anxiety levels up another notch.

Speaking of anxiety, I had actually calmed down a bit. I hadn’t taken a Valium in almost two weeks. Until today. I decided to join Twitter. When I joined it went through my email contacts to see which of them had a Twitter account and then automatically added me to their followers. Guess who is on Twitter. The step-daughter. My heart leapt into my mouth as I realised  that I had just become a follower of her. Until it turned out that she must have deleted it because now I can’t find her. Close shave.

But then I was checking my Facebook privacy settings. And somehow (still haven’t quite figured out how) I unblocked her. So now I can see comments that she makes on mutual friends’ status updates, photos, etc. Weird, because she actually blocked me first so this implies that she has also unblocked me, or maybe it’s some Facebook trickery. I have 48 hours till I can re-block her. Seeing a comment she made, simply seeing her name and photo, made my heart race, my hands shake and almost thrust me into a panic attack. So I took a Valium (on husband’s advice, not because I’m dependent, because I’m not, I went two weeks without, with no ill effects) to calm down.

Great start to the new year.

I can’t seem to work out how to get to what I have actually been thinking about. There is no linking paragraph, because the thoughts aren’t linked to anything. Not anything tangible anyway. They don’t cling to anything, they just roam their way through my mind. I should carry a notebook with me at all times. Instead, what I do is say to myself, “Oh, must remember to write that down later”, and then later comes, by which time I have forgotten what I was going to write down.

Emotions. Feelings. Pesky. But would I be without them? I think I feel too much. Lots of people tell me I think too much, but that’s not the problem, the problem is feeling too much. The only reason I think too much is to try and make sense of all the feelings. The step-daughter has blotted feelings out of her life. Except anger, of course. Perhaps that’s why she hates me so much. Because I haven’t blotted out my feelings. Nobody should ever do that.

Having said that, even I try to blot them out at times. For survival. Does that make me a hypocrite? Possibly. But I won’t blot them out forever. I won’t let my heart turn to stone, just because all my emotions frighten me. I won’t, I won’t, I won’t.

This whole Cyclothymic gig, it’s just emotions, just feelings. Feeling miserable, feeling euphoric, excited, angry, irritable, frustrated, terrified… Feeling, feeling, feeling. What’s so wrong with that anyway? Surely there is enough in this world to make us feel this way. This world is beautiful and terrible, all at the same time. Maybe I just happen to be more sensitive to this than some people?

2010
01/01
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Inner Thoughts
Mental Illness
The Balrog
TAGS

















10 comments

End of Year Reflections

It’s Hogmanay, New Year’s Eve. I always get reflective, no matter how hard I try not to. 2009. Can’t say I’m exactly sad to see the back of this year. (By the way, certain events from this year are now in a new page, Events of Significance.) The last couple of months have been particularly rubbish. Oh, and the first few months weren’t that great either.

But I have started my Masters, and I do love it, as I knew I would. Even though I am fighting to write an essay at the moment, due to be submitted in just over two weeks.

I go back to work on Monday and I have my Occupational Health assessment next Friday. I have been off work for six weeks. I have to admit it, I’m terrified of going back. I have to get through the whole of January without a meltdown, before I see my psychiatrist again. Come on Karita, it’s just one little month. You can get through one month without going crazy again.

We spent Christmas with my family in Scotland and now we’re in Essex with the other half of the family. On our way down we spent a night in the town I grew up in. We moved there when I was nine and I said goodbye when I was nineteen. I haven’t been back since. It was odd, but good. To see the place of childhood memories. I even saw my old house.

I met a blogging friend in that area of the country as well. (*Waves*) That was lovely. She and her husband are fantastic. He made me see something in myself though, something I already knew was there, but refused to look directly at. My confused state of mind, my difficulty in articulating my thoughts, the way my words rush out of my mouth and then try to rush back in again. Ah well, hopefully if and when I meet them again my words may be under better control.

No new year’s resolutions for me this year. Nothing serious anyway. Nothing like becoming a better Christian, losing weight or pummelling my mental illness back under the rock it came from. Nope, this year my only resolution is to go skydiving. I want to do something fun, something thrilling, something that isn’t grown-up. Because I have decided that being a grown-up is naff.

What will 2010 bring? More mentalness? Or recovery? 2009 brought a diagnosis of Cyclothymia. It brought a struggle with medications and acceptance. It brought a brief glimpse of stability before rushing headlong into the crash. 2009 has ended with a breakdown in my relationship with my step-daughter and her children, and with me being signed off work. 2009 saw me almost lose my faith in God, but it also saw God holding tight to me. What will I be writing this time next year?

2009
12/31
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Faith
Inner Thoughts
Life, the Universe and Everything
Mental Illness
The Balrog
TAGS









8 comments

Emmanuel

It’s Christmas Day in an hour and a half. Never have I approached Christmas in a more conflicted state.

Last year and the year before I was ill. Both of those years hubby and I spent with the step-daughter and her children. This year we are with my family. It’s now relaxed and calm. I have worked on my essay today and yesterday and feel I’m getting somewhere with it. I have made a snowman. I was rubbish at it and my feet got cold but I had fun.

I have attempted not to think about the flowers I sent to the step-daughter. I failed at that. I checked the Interflora website and found out that they have been delivered. I don’t know what happened to them after that. Did the step-daughter keep them, at least for the sake of the children? Or did she just throw them away? Do the children even know that I sent them all flowers?

I saw on Facebook that hubby’s youngest grandchild had his first wobbly tooth this week. My heart tore in two. I can’t share that with them anymore. But I still have to see the updates. My heart has to break every time.

So. I am calm. I actually feel more peaceful than I have for a long time. Peaceful about the next few days at least. I will leave the days after that to take care of themselves. But when I take a peek inside myself, when I pull back the curtain just a little bit, I see a whole lot of emotions that I don’t know what to do with, that I don’t know if I can handle, that I don’t know if I will ever be able to handle.

But that’s alright. Because tomorrow I celebrate the day my Saviour entered the world, became flesh and lived among us. The day He left the splendour of Heaven, to be born in squalor.

Emmanuel. God With Us.

2009
12/24
CATEGORY
Faith
Inner Thoughts
Life, the Universe and Everything
The Balrog
TAGS








6 comments

Small Steps

Hello there, dear blogging friends. I’m doing a lot better now. I went to see a doctor yesterday who said I have a chest infection and possibly tonsillitis and I now have double strength antibiotics and an inhaler. I can breathe again!

My Grandma is now so much better that she is allowed out of hospital. However, we had so much snow last night that the hospital is isolated and nobody can get in or out. Typical!

On the subject of snow… it’s so pretty! I am going to do some work on my essay (it’s about time I attempted to write something!) and if I do well I will reward myself by building a snowman later on. :D

My mood took an upward turn yesterday. Hubby, the parentals and I went out for dinner with a friend and had a right laugh. Hubby said he saw my “laughing eyes” for the first time in months and that made him happy. We also saw “Avatar” at the cinema and I can’t recommend it highly enough. I just loved it. I have this thing where I get so caught up in stories like that, so much so that I completely forget the real world. A couple of hours of bliss.

So I fell on my arse for a few days. Depression, anxiety and irritability caught up with me. I briefly stopped fighting. No doubt I will have more days like that. But I’ll get back onto my feet again, one little day at a time.

2009
12/23
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Life, the Universe and Everything
Mental Illness
TAGS








3 comments

…

Depression: Sucking my soul out of me.

Christmas: Wish I could sleep through it.

Grandma: In hospital after a mild heart attack yesterday. Can’t visit because I’m coughing my guts up.

Ill at Christmas again: See above.

Relaxing holiday with family: Not really happening.

Festive spirit: Appears to have gone into hiding.

Selfish tearfulness and irritability: In abundance.

2009
12/21
CATEGORY
Life, the Universe and Everything
Mental Illness
TAGS



7 comments

A Heart Wrapped in Barbed Wire

Hi everyone. I know that I get people who believe in Christ and those who don’t on this blog, some people of different faiths to my own, some agnostics, some atheists. I also know that the majority of the people who read this blog have mental health problems of their own. I am sorry if my posts about my faith make you feel uncomfortable or make you feel like you can’t comment. But I can’t separate my mental health from my Christian beliefs so my posts are often intertwined with both subjects. I hope that doesn’t frighten you off. Please feel free to comment however you like.

Last week I was plagued almost constantly by thoughts of how despicably weak I am for allowing the step-daughter to make me so upset, so anxious. I kept thinking of people who have to face real trials and stand up to them so much better than I do. I knew this line of thinking was flawed, and I could argue against myself quite effectively, but it didn’t make the thoughts go away.

Then I went to church yesterday. And once again my Pastor preached a sermon that just blew me away. I actually managed to find a pen and some scraps of paper in my bag to take notes! He was preaching on love. Specifically he was preaching on this passage:

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:14-21

Once again, I’m not going to repeat his sermon here. Even though I did take notes, I still have a lot of thinking to do about it. But this – my faith should be rooted and established in love – wow, that got me thinking. Not rooted in my own fallen, selfish, fickle love for God, but in God’s wonderful, self-sacrificial, unconditional, never-failing love for me.

A the end of his sermon the Pastor said that he felt it on his heart that some people should be prayed for about this subject. Now, I hate being prayed for. It feels like a letting down of all my barriers, which actually is what it is. But I felt his gaze (whether real or imagined) burning into me, even though I had my eyes firmly on my knees by this point.

So at the end of the service I sat there looking grumpy for a little while, talked to a couple of people and really just eeked it out for as long as I could before finally giving in. I went to the back of the church and saw this lovely woman that I have spoken to a couple of times before. She is an older lady and exceptionally gentle. I gave her the bare outlines of my experiences over the past few months, told her of the thoughts going round my head and then promptly burst into tears. I realised that although I am (slowly and painfully) learning to love someone who gives no love back, yet I just can’t seem to wrap my tiny brain around the fact that God loves me. God loves me and therefore I have no need to beat myself up so completely all the time.

She was wonderful. She gave me a tissue and a long hug. Other people saw me crying but they just calmly got on with their business. She prayed for me. She was so intuitive. She could sense what I needed without me having to tell her. She helped me to see the prayers in images instead of sentences, because she could sense that my thoughts are so scattered, so fragmented that I couldn’t keep track of the prayers. Images of a heart wrapped and trapped in barbed wire, of my Saviour cutting through that barbed wire.

She asked me if I have ever been filled with the Holy Spirit and I answered no because I truthfully don’t think I have. I have been a Christian for 14 years and I don’t think I have ever been filled with the Holy Spirit. She was so kind and said that it is nothing to be ashamed about, she was the same as me when she was younger, and she thinks many people are. So she prayed for me to be filled with the Holy Spirit. (I want to note for the record that I do know that there is a difference between the permanent indwelling of the Spirit, and being filled with the Spirit. Or at least I think there is.)

She encouraged me to pray out loud. I struggled with that one. I haven’t prayed out loud for about six years. But she walked me through it and I managed to talk to Jesus. Just a few halting sentences. She smiled and hugged me again, saying well done.

She prayed that I would be covered in the blood of Christ, that I would be protected from Satan’s arrows. She encouraged me to pray for this every morning. She also encouraged me to repeat to myself out loud every day that I am a child of God and very precious to Him.

I am not sure how I feel about all this just yet. I don’t feel any different. Possibly a little calmer. I am spending today doing some reading to try and reflect further on what happened and what was said, prayed and preached. For now I just wanted to record, however briefly, what happened. And to thank God for how He is using His children to help and guide me.

2009
12/14
CATEGORY
Bible
Church
Faith
Inner Thoughts
Mental Illness
The Balrog
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8 comments

Learning to Love

My last post got quite a few hits.

At the weekend, when I was at church, I suddenly got the idea into my head that I wanted to send the step-daughter and her children some flowers for Christmas. Don’t ask me why, it’s not because I’m an amazingly loving person, or because I want to suck up to her or even because I want to restore our relationship. The idea just came into my head and I decided to do it.

Then the next day I got the nasty text from her. My immediate thought was, "what the hell was I thinking?" But two people have so far given me advice to send the sodding flowers anyway. Nope, I thought. No way.

But I can’t get it out of my head. I’m torn. Let’s face it people, I’m a Christian, love people and all that. Regardless of how they treat you. So yesterday I found myself looking at flowers. I could have ordered the damn things then and there and get them delivered to her on Christmas Eve. She would probably shred them, think I’m doing it in another attempt to brainwash everyone. Because that’s the sort of wicked person I am.

But I can’t get it out of my head. Have I said that already? I wish I could send her a punch in the post instead, or maybe some poison ivy. See people, I’m not a loving person. I want her to get what she deserves. But there I was debating whether or not to send her flowers.

Grrrr.

I have now decided to send the flowers. Some people don’t get why I would want to do that. They think I should send flowers to someone who would actually appreciate them. They think I should avoid all contact with her because she is bad for my mental health. And I can’t say I disagree with them. At all. But I’m going to send them anyway. I am doing it because I feel it is the right thing to do, I would be disappointed in myself if I didn’t do it, and because I will not let her make me into a person who can’t give love because I have been hurt.

But I will not send them to arrive to her on Christmas Eve. After all, taking previous experiences into account, I could get a horrible reaction and that could send me into another tailspin and utterly ruin my Christmas. So I’ll get them sent to her for the 21st, by which time I will be up in Edinburgh with my wonderful family to support and distract me.

I have to do this. I feel that it is the Holy Spirit who has prompted me. You know, the Holy Spirit. He’s not someone who generally makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside like a lot of wishy washy Christians describe Him. When I feel His prompting I usually feel extremely uncomfortable. I can do my best to ignore the promptings but they don’t go away until I face up to them and decide to do what’s best.

This week I have been very anxious, angry, upset… dealing with withdrawal from Cymbalta (that’s just a whole barrel of laughs)… attempting to concentrate on my essay… I saw my psychiatrist again today and he is leaving my medication mix alone for the present because he doesn’t think I can take any more changes. He thinks my high levels of anxiety are making my mood episodes worse but he’s taking it very slowly in dealing with it. I am happy with this decision. He also says I can go back to work in January. So now the real work begins. Can I send the flowers without obsessing over it? Obsessing over how she may react? Can I relax over the Christmas period and just enjoy the holiday with my family? Can I focus on working on my essay? Can I go back to work and cope? Just cope. No breakdowns. Because I won’t be seeing the psychiatrist again until the beginning of February unless things go topsy turvy again.

Can I learn to love even when I get nothing in return?

2009
12/11
CATEGORY
Cyclothymia
Faith
Mental Illness
The Balrog
TAGS









8 comments

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