Category: bipolar disorder

Intensely Loved, but Definitely Broken, [Reality]

bryondeck-2For everyone who loves Jesus, but yet has had an experience of terrible loss, sickness or the death of a loved one…this post is meant for you.

I am evangelical, a former pastor, and a Bible college instructor. I also have bipolar depression, and a bit of paranoia and delusional thinking. I have been hospitalized in mental hospitals seven times in 10 years.  But, I love Jesus more than anything. And I’ve been told by many who repeatedly insist that He loves me as well.

I have experienced the darkest and most crippling depressions.  There are some weeks (months?) I could not get out of bed, shower or even eat.  For this Bipolar, I must take Lithium, Zoloft, and Lamictal.  These meds hold me in place. I’m being treated for a seizure disorder, and have had surgery to remove a tumor in my brain. I now walk with a cane.

“He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.”

1 Corinthians 1:3

This blog is geared for the mentally ill believer, the terminally ill, habitual sinners and all who are confused and dismayed by their own brokenness. But you don’t need a diagnosis to read this blog.

It seems like failures—

  • the mentally feeble,
  • lame,
  • chronically ill
  • blind, and deaf
  • sinners, great and small
  • and mentally ill have not always been welcome in the Church. I think that is about to change.

I’m honestly convinced that it has been the churches’ loss. How is the Church ever going to learn to love the unlovely without us to ‘train’ them? We the disabled are sprinkled into each fellowship to tutor them through our illnesses.

The church need not look to new ‘fund raising ideas’ or to pave the parking lot, it just needs to reach out to the broken– one at a time.  I think God will bless every church who will do this. This is the work and passion of Jesus. This is what Jesus’ church looks like. “For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” (Luke 19:10.)

The Church needs us, whether it realizes it or not.  It is as broken people that we model our fallenness as the paradigm to intimacy with Jesus.  We often are the first to know that it has never been about our giftedness, but our intimacy. 

We are a witness, a tangled but tangible reminder, of how God’s grace gives His power to the weak and despised (2 Cor. 2).

“For I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.” 

Matthew 9:13

“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Mathew 11:28-30

I simply can not say anything more. Just please love us.

“The power of the Church is not a parade of flawless people, but of a flawless Christ who embraces our flaws. The Church is not made up of whole people, rather of the broken people who find wholeness in a Christ who was broken for us.”

–Mike Yaconelli

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All scripture quotations are from the New Living Translation.

Lost Time, [Regrets]

“The most important thing to remember about depression is this: you do not get the time back. It is not tacked on at the end of your life to make up for the disaster years. Whatever time is eaten by a depression is gone forever. The minutes that are ticking by as you experience the illness are minutes you will not know again.” 

— Andrew Solomon (The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression)

I guess that is the strange futility of our depression.  All the time we use up so much time by being depressed and it is not, given back to us.  I have lost so much time due to my mental illness.  When I get to the end of my earthly life, I will see how many weeks I spent in paranoia, fear, and anxiety.  But on top of this, I have allowed depression to eat up months of my life.

To realize and know this loss is painful.  I have lost way too much time in mental hospitals, and treatment centers.  The halfway houses, and so many counseling sessions.  Life has been snatched away from me, and time continues to pursue me relentlessly.

I have lost so much.  I will never get it returned to me, in this lifetime.  It’s gone, wasted and blown away by the wind. There is so much I regret, so much has been lost.  This is one of the brutal aspects of mental illness.  It seems as if I have wasted and frittered away a good chunk of my life.

Paranoia and self-deception have cruelly taken from me a great deal. I’ve been told that back in the 30s and 40s of terrible plagues of locusts that attacked and devoured American farms.  The locust can quickly destroy trees, plants, and crops, and in this destruction, The prophet. sees a warning, and in this destruction of long ago, he discovers a wonderful promise of restoration.

“The Lord says, “I will give you back what you lost
    to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts,
the stripping locusts, and the cutting locusts.
    It was I who sent this great destroying army against you.”

Joel 2:25, NLT

So much has been wasted by the plague.  It has been devoured and lost is to me completely. Dwelling on this terrible deficit can only drag me down further. A wasted life will take me to this grim and sad place.  However, I do not have to live in this desolation.

You see, we have been given another chance.  As sincere believers in the grace of God our lives are not to be considered wasted.  His Spirit has intervened, and what was lost has now been found.  Our ugly vacancies have been renewed and strengthened.  And His love for us redeems all our lostness.

Let Him be the Lord of your past.  Our life apart from Him has been savagely attacked.  It seems we have completely opened our lives to darkness.  Satan has cruelly tried to destroy us.  But the Father has made an infinite effort to bring us home. Hallelujah!

ybic, Bryan

 

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When Stigma Gets Brutal, [Mental Illness]

brutality“Dad, they’re killing me!” cried Kelly Thomas as he was beaten in the back of the skull until he was in a coma. “Daaad! Daaad!! Help me please!” were among his last words.

“What this means is that all of us need to be very afraid now,” said his father, Ron Thomas. “Its carte blanche for police officers everywhere to kill us, beat us, whatever they want. It has been proven right here today that they’ll get away with it.”

“I guess its legal to go out and kill,” said the victim’s mother, Cathy Thomas. “It breaks my heart. Part of me died that night with Kelly, part of me died that night, part of me died in court. I feel dead inside,” she said. “They got away with murdering my son.”

If you’re homeless, life can be challenging. If you’re homeless, and mentally ill– it seems you are doubly cursed. When you become a victim, life can be extinguished without prejudice and without recourse. The question must be asked: Wouldn’t an injection of Thorazine been easier than beating him to death? How very sad.

READ MORE: http://www.policestateusa.com/2014/kelly-thomas/

I’m sorry to have had to post such a negative account on Brokenbelievers.com. Please forgive me if I offend. I’m certain that there were many other issues involved, but I understand how easily it is to trample on the least among us.

aabryscript

 

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“Whack-a-Mole,” [Surprises]!

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Lately I think that my mental illness is a lot like “whack-a-mole.” This is that ‘sophisticated’ game where you try to bash in the heads of little moles with a padded hammer. Score is kept by the number of the heads you crush.

These guys will pop-up out of any of 12 holes on the table and you must anticipate exactly which hole they make their appearance. They’re crafty and can jump up anywhere. And they come at you so fast. (I have been known to “foam-at-the-mouth” in a mad pursuit to destroy them. Moles beware)!

I was thinking today that my mental illness is a lot like this. I must stand and face a dozen different issues that seem to present themselves at any given moment. Things move at hypnotic pace that can spiral into a frenzy.

The issues I face are an awful lot like “whack-a-mole.” I seem to always respond but never initiate the battle. I dance but never lead. I must react but can never act.

Issues like:

  • handling money
  • driving a car
  • loving your spouse
  • being a good dad (or mom)
  • relationship with the church, community
  • being a good neighbor
  • paying my bills on time, taxes
  • finding a real friend
  • doing “ministry” things

This is “whack-a-mole” at its best. As hard as I can I slam them with my hammer, but they keep returning! I belatedly discover that my enthusiasm was to no avail.

The issues always come up, but I simply don’t know how to deal with them. I discover I’m always on the defense, but seldom on the offense. These things are always a surprise. (But not really.)

What can I say? I tried to beat them down and yet they prevailed. These malicious “moles” with their own agendas. I tried my hardest, but to no avail. I always respond, but to no real victory. Honestly, there are times I don’t know what to do.

So I sit and wait, I tell no one of my dilemma. I look at the things that have gone well, and the things not so well. I guess I’m left with a deep insecurity. I simply believe no good has come from being absorbed with winning at “whack-a-mole.”

But I must get involved, it is a matter of life vs. death. Where can the mentally ill find any course of hope? And that I guess is the real “rub” it is Hope. Hope is the real factor in my own depression. Without it I spiral downward, and crash and burn.

Hope.

Only hope can bring me through this. And Jesus.

 

ybic, Bryan

 

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