“I am reckoned among those who go down to the pit;
I have become like a man without strength,“
In May 2011, this is what I wrote–
“I feel like I am going through a meat grinder. Pushed against my will (and desire) I’m finding myself in a place I’d rather not be. My therapist confirmed today that I’m in a “mixed state” where bipolar mania and depression come together. I compare it to two massive ocean currents smashing into each other. Jesus helps those who can no longer hold on by gritty determination.
I also get paranoid that people are attacking me and are plotting to ruin me. I am quite suspicious of Facebook and my depression chat. I believe that the people that I encounter there are trying to get at me behind my back. Social networking with these type of services can be a nightmare. I quit most of them. I do the rest under duress.
I have been into this state for just two weeks and the urge to ‘end it all.’ is starting to become surprisingly strong. For my own safety, I’m almost thinking that it maybe time to go to the hospital again. I must tell you that these are places that you really don’t want to go, if you don’t have to. (FYI, if your in Alaska, my particular choice is Providence Hospital, 4 West, in Anchorage, Alaska. (It’s actually a somewhat “nicer” degree of miserable.)
But, then there is also the grandiosity. I believe that I think clearer, better, and faster than other people. It’s like I have superpowers. I will think of myself as extremely gifted, superior to others. I paint and write poetry and do “noble” things. (I’m working on jumping over buildings.)
But I also have tremendous anxiety, with racing thoughts, and even heart palpitations esp. when I am sitting trying to relax. I don’t sleep well at all, in spite of the sleeping pill, the Klonopin and the melatonin, and the Benadryl, (to make sure I do sleep).
The endless cycle of feeling really good and then feeling really bad is a challenging one. It is difficult to have a stable walk of discipleship under these circumstances. I think being starkly honest and broken over my own fallenness is the key for me. (Now if I can only remember this.)
I continue to take my meds like a good boy. But they don’t seem to work like they used to. I think they can’t handle this particular concoction of depression/mania. Sometimes, I feel like I’m getting better, but I never seem to get well.
I know that I’m being very blunt here. Tact has never been an easy thing for me. As I read I remember the struggle, and how I couldn’t see a way out. I’m thankful for the Holy Spirit who led me when no one else could. I wrote this post some time ago, and decided that it needed for to. I’ve been reasonably stable, and I’m in a better frame of mind the last several months. I covet my time alone with God. He heals me. I’ve been captured by Jesus’ love; I know He shelters me with His love. I can live with that.
“For when we were still without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly.”