Hello all :). It's been a while.
Good news: Whispers and Murmurs is
coming along—which is miraculous because of the state of mind I've
been in for the past couple months—and I am reveling in the writing
process as I learn new things about my characters and their world.
(Also...fixing lots and lots of plot holes. Boo).
You probably weren't wondering what was
going on with the serious lack of posting...but if you were:
I have PTSD. (Ok, really...that's
enough to explain just about everything, but...) For some reason,
instead of flaring up around the summertime as it usually does, it
flared up this winter. Anxiety and stress levels skyrocketed and the
blog was left on the backburner. Why did it flare up? Because it was
never seasonal. I apparently fear the ending of things.
I know, right?
But it's true. When I found out my
friend was pregnant this winter, I was devastated—not because she
was pregnant, but because I wasn't too. I couldn't follow her on the
road she was going down. I feared our friendship—or at least the
depth of it—was ending.
It's kind of hard to explain, but when
you've walked along the same road(s) for so long, you form an
unbreakable bond...but that bond, while always existing, won't always
be deepening. I love this person more than almost anyone else in this
entire world. I cried for days (lol). The medication (see below) did
not help matters -_-.
I have some annoyingly persistent—and,
as yet, undiagnosed or diagnosable—stomach/intestinal issues. Translation: My stomach/intestines hurt pretty much...all. the. time.
and aside from having an ulcer, no other problem has been found. On top of that, I kept getting sick with other things (fever, pink eye, cough that almost became bronchitis...it was a bit overwhelming o_o).
Some medication I had to take, in
combination with my already problematic emotional/psychological
state, made things much, MUCH worse. You'd think the doctors, knowing I have PTSD, would be like, "Maybe it's a bad idea to give someone with PTSD this." But no. That might, you know, make sense. And because this gif captures my sentiments so perfectly:
Suffice it to say what I experienced went far beyond 'mood swings'.
I've experienced a grand level of apathy and irritability before because of PTSD flare-ups, but usually I'd be better after a few days. With that medication, I lost all motivation to
do everyday things--go to work; go outside; do housework; even eat,
despite being hungry--for weeks on end.
I just didn't care, and, not surprisingly, I contemplated suicide multiple times. Immediately after I stopped taking the medication, I felt loads better. Never will I ever take it again. (Obviously.)
So
yeah...the blog had to be neglected for a bit ^_^'.
More thoughts...
I
think people wonder why, as a Christian, I struggled along such a
road. Supposedly God delivers and comforts, right? So what happened?
Well...for
one thing, I'm finite and fallible, and man...sometimes I'm just so
stubborn. When I get anxiety attacks, of course I pray, and I'm
immediately ok. If I sought the LORD more fervently instead of
drowning in my sorrow (because, let's admit it, we do that sometimes), I'm 100% sure
it would've been easier.
I'm not sure He would've removed me from
the struggle, though. It's happened before, but this time, I think He saw value in the experience. Maybe that sounds crazy to you, but I've learned some things
about depression and suicidal thoughts that only someone who has
experienced them can: they're not controllable, complete with an on/off
switch!
So
many people who go to church and proclaim to be Christians think 'oh,
you just have to read your Bible more'. I'm not discrediting that
entirely; healing and salvation are of the LORD, not man (God does
use people to heal, though—psychiatrists and friends and those who
have gone through what you're going through). But the people who say
things like that don't know what it's like. They don't understand
that sometimes, you just can't move, breathe, desire...whether
mentally, emotionally, or physically.
The
sunday school group I was in discussed depression the week before
last, and I almost lost it after several people said things like that
after stating they'd never struggled with depression or suicidal
thoughts. And the irony is, one person in my group stated that after
he lost his wife, he rejected comfort from those who hadn't also lost
a spouse, saying, 'unless you've experienced what I'm going through,
you really don't understand, and you can't help me'. *eye twitch*
I
kinda felt like if they knew what I've
struggled with, they'd think I was crazy. Or, at the very least, 'unspiritual'. (Dun dun dunnnn)
Anyway,
I understood in that moment that if I hadn't gone through this, I'd
never be able to minister to people who are grieving and
contemplating suicide because I never really got it. Got them.
Christ
IS the Solution. I will never deny this. But He is with
us in our grief. He understands our struggles, and doesn't berate us for
having them. And by allowing me to walk in the midst of this
particular struggle, I've been equipped to walk with others through
theirs.
As
a sort-of uh, closing statement, I'd like to share the chorus of a song that came
to me after listening to a sermon about Jesus as our Shepherd while I
was in one of the darkest places I've ever been:
When
You give, it's like a spark from Heaven—
lighting
up my entire world, lighting up the deepest parts
of
my oft, torn/jaded/wounded heart
You
are my Remedy
delivering
me from apathy
The astounding quality of this video almost coaxes tears. I know, it's ok *pats back*
(Sorry about going flat on that one note T_T...makes me cringe ). But hey, at least it gives an idea of the sound.
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