Category: mental illness

A ‘Slipping Down’ Life

“When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he touched his hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him.”

Genesis 32:25

There is no question that we each want a wonderful life.  Young and strong and very idealistic, we brew dreams that we will become persons of wonder and deep significance.  After all, anything less would be a denial of what we believe.  In our youthful zeal we more or less insist on our own success.  We just know, deep down, that we are God’s special gift to the world.

All of a sudden we strike reality’s iceberg.  It is very bitter, and it hurts us.  Then things unfold around us that are difficult and quite challenging to process.  But as it ‘sifts out’ we realize that we find we are severely mismatched by what we must face.  It is at this point things will proceed from ‘difficult to ugly.’

We discover that our life is ‘a slipping down’ sort of kind.  Twenty years ago, we would never admit this.  But our vision and expectations have shrunken, and we’ve become less than we imagined than we would be. We have ‘slipped down.’ Living this kind of life, inserts a humility in us. We have aspired, but have not attained. We discover that we haven’t met our earlier expectations. We are woefully short.

But if we are honest with ourselves (and others) we find ourselves– subtracted.  We wrestle with our angel, and he pulverizes us. We discover that we now limp, but this is a necessary step for us to take.  Sometimes “Christlikeness” must be beaten into us by life itself.

There are those among us who profoundly struggle with pain and illness are expected to join with millions that have gone before us.  Loss and ugliness pay a visit to our lives.  There are those of us who fight with a mental illness, (sometimes winning, and often losing) have to sift through all that remains.  But this is all ‘injected humility.’ This experience does teach us, like nothing else can.

“Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God– Oh my, but you do learn.  C.S. Lewis

Personal brokenness requires that we pick-up the pieces.  And that in itself works something in us.  On our hands and knees we have an epiphany.  We are not what we thought we’d be.  But humility, the soil that grows our spirits, finally has begun to work in us.

A ‘slipping-down life’ brings us to the ‘bitter-sweet place’ where the Spirit can reach into us to do His work.  It is the ‘operating room’ where He works deep inside us.  None will truly know the Lord’s touch without this deep work. I strongly encourage you to submit your hearts to His precise work.  After all, you really don’t have a whole bunch of viable options. aabryscript

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Whim-Whams

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“In our family “whim-wham” is code, a defanged reference to any number of moods and psychological disorders, be they depressive, manic, or schizoaffective. Back in the 1970s and ’80s – when they were all straight depression – we called them “dark nights of the soul.” St. John of the Cross’s phrase ennobled our sickness, spiritualized it. We cut God out of it after the manic breaks started in 1986, the year my dad, brother, and I were all committed. Call it manic depression or by its new, polite name, bipolar disorder. Whichever you wish. We stick to our folklore and call it the whim-whams.”

— David Lovelace, Scattershot: My Bipolar Family

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Speaking in code is often our way of communicating to those who are curious. We seldom tell anyone we have bipolar disorder outright. Some of us tried, and failed; we fall back to “I’m just a little blue today,” or the classic, “I’m just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” We really can be somewhat disingenuous.

All too often these are half-truths that deflect the sticky issues of a mental breakdown. We seek to salvage some kind of dignity, or evade the inevitable stigma that would certainly come if we told the truth. We choose to evade, but at a cost.

I struggle with the stigma of both bipolar disorder and epilepsy. I’m still uncomfortable when others seem uncomfortable with me. So, I have developed a general rule:

Bryan’s Rule #14, “Never reveal your illness, except to qualified people.”

I suppose this adds a layer of personal security. The occasions I have violated this rule have resulted in awkward pauses and odd looks. Afterwards, the relationship changed. It was as if I suddenly sprouted a second head, or something.

As Christian believers, I know we are supposed to walk in the truth. But exactly how truthful am I supposed to be? I’ve always had an iconoclastic streak, and I love stretching the social boundaries of others. Bipolar disorder has been an illness made-to-order for people like me.

Bryan’s Rule #15, “Openness can be a true step toward my healing.”

But it take truth to change. We really need to be honest by bringing things into the light. Obscuring the truth keeps us isolated and distant from others. Will speaking forthrightly about my bipolar disorder be a challenge? Of course. But necessary if I want to heal and cope.

I’m not advocating making a big sign and parading down Main Street. Just to be a bit more honest with others, and ultimately with ourselves. Let’s be comfortable with our own personal “whim-whams.”

aabryscript

 

Memories Haunt in the Light

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For many who have struggled with depression, as I have, often suffer from an underlying brokenness that stems from past tragedies that we can’t seem to completely forget. We try to understand why and pray for forgetfulness that never seems to come. But even so, when we know Jesus as our Savior the Light is never extinguished.

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Memories Haunt in the Light

I stand upon the solid Rock
I’ve found my firm foundation
Living each day in the Light
Being sure of my salvation

I know His words of grace are true
‘Cause I feel them deep in my heart
I rise each day, out into the world
And that’s when the memories start

The sky is blue, the sun is bright
A chill wind stings my face
I should be happy and light, but cold
Triggers thoughts I seem to chase

Like Paul with his thorn, I pray the Lord
Would remove the pain today
“My grace is sufficient,” He replies
As over and over I cry and pray

But what if grace is not enough
As this memory haunts the light
This is when I must trust and believe
To escape the darkness of night

He uses this memory of pain
To teach me compassion and grace
For the bruised and the broken
Haunted by memories of disgrace

He’s made me merciful and kind
This lesson is not meant to destroy
But some days I’d rather be less caring
And remember only love and joy

My Rock remains firm beneath me
In spite of my doubt and fury
His grace will suffice, I rest in His Light
One day this memory He’ll bury

aasignLinda

The Modern Tax-Collector

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Luke 18:9-14, ESV

He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’

But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’

Essentially it would seem, that there are only two kinds of people, (which simplifies things.)  On the right stands the religious man, who has confided  in a level of righteousness that he deems adequate.  But his sin is multi-faceted.  A big chunk has to do with how he perceives others in comparison to himself.  He often despises those who are failures, losers, and criminals.  He points to them only to bolster his own standing. It generates his own feelings of religiousness.

Too many churches have become places were Pharisees come together to congratulate themselves.  These men and women do not operate from brokenness and humility.  They know nothing of tears over their sin.  But they pat themselves on their back because of their progress in the ways of God.  Life seems so wonderful in our churches.  We leave the service comfortably encouraged in our self-righteousness.

The tax-collectors of this world are its drunks, addicts, mentally ill, and the losers.  They stand afar off. And they don’t even have the energy or confidence to turn to God.  They know exactly what they have done, and understand perfectly that they are less then zero.  There is such a gap between these two men, and it has only deepened to this present situation.

Where are the bipolar, the schizophrenic, the person with OCD in our churches?  For that matter, where has is the unwed mother, the crack addict, and the homosexual gone?  I will tell you where, they are “standing afar off”.  People with ugly secrets and intense issues are often scared to death by religious people.

Please be aware. I didn’t intend for this to be a hard word.  But many of the “rascals” of the Church have gone missing!  We must seek them out and bring them home.  The sinner very often needs our encouragement to “come and dine” with Jesus. The last verse of Jesus’ parable sums up the lesson–

“I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Luke 18:14

aabryplain