I have been sitting here staring at this blank page
wondering what to say. Hard to believe I
would struggle with something to say, I know.
But, alas, there it is. There has
been a lot of activity of late; birthday parties, visitors, and everyday life
adjustments. But somehow through it all
I have maintained a strong sense of detachment, and that is not good.
I know that stress is playing a role in my disconnect. I am
very aware of this, but the disconnect still occurs whether I am cognizant of
the fact or not. Events happen in my
life whether I give them permission or not, and right now my way of coping is
to put a barrier between all that is going on and my mind.
I know that hope remains.
I know that this funk I am in, compounded by life stressers, will
eventually shift. I know that even
though every time I think we are getting on top of things and something else
goes wrong like someone ends up in the ER, our lawnmower gets blown out, or one
of our animals gets hurt, it is just a hit and will not last forever. I get it. That still does not negate real
time.
I attend a Bible study on Wednesdays, and it is very good
for me and my hubby. But I gotta say it
gets old when some person in the group starts spouting off platitudes about
freedom and victory, especially when he or she is 20 years old. I have, thus far, remained silent in
response, because I know the person means well.
But when, after the meeting, and elderly woman comes up to me and is in
tears because she knows she is doing something wrong, because she is unable to
be victorious in the midst of massive change, my blood begins to boil.
This woman lost her husband a year ago after spending most
of a lifetime with him, and now on top of all that adjusting, she has another
big change she is working through. I
just hugged her and told her that victory comes at many different points, and
she is not failing because life sucks right now. She is simply moving through the process, and
that is where grace and hope factor in.
They get us to victory. I assured
her I am right there with her, and looking for the positive does not mean
pretending things aren’t bad.
I have known people that seem to skate through life with little
or no diversity. I do not understand how
that happens, nor can I identify with it in any way. I simply choose not to try to figure it out,
but what amazes me is that it is often those people who feel they have the
answers for everyone else.
I know. I know. Try to speak to the good in life; that which
is working, but here is the thing, sometimes, you have been in certain place
for so long that it is difficult to see anything but what is right in front of
your face, those things that are demanding, no screaming, for your attention,
and they are not happy things. They are
not positive things. They are crisis points.
For me, after too many such crisis points that continually
pop up for, say, half a year or more, I become extremely mentally
fatigued. It is difficult to remember
things. It is a challenge responding
with anything other than emotional flat line, and I begin to get very claustrophobic
in my life situation. Everything I do
becomes manual, and I struggle to function at the most basic of levels. I am very frustrated with myself, because I,
am once again, not normal, and no matter how many years go by with this illness,
I will be forever reminded it is alive and well. Case in point...
We had a barbeque with a couple of families in the
neighborhood. It took all day Saturday
to get things ready. I knew that the
stress of getting things ready and then interacting with people would be a
stress on my mind, especially right now when I am already dealing with
depression. But it needed to be
done. My family needs interaction, and
it is not their fault they live with a recluse.
I made it through the day.
It was a total God thing, and I only had one close call with a panic
attack. Very good for having 12 people
in close quarters. But since then I have
been worthless. I can hardly function
mentally. Sunday I could hardly rub two
thoughts together. Yesterday I slept
most of the day, and when I got up, I was still exhausted. I know what is going on. I know that being over stimulated in combination
with having to be social is just really hard on me, but the knowledge does
little.
So, I am reminded, once again, that I do not fall within
normal parameters. I never will. I will always have limitations for coping with
life in this world, and no matter how healthy I am or how well I plan, I will never
experience recovery, as our mental health model is so fond of purporting. I cannot recover, because it does not go
away. There is not room for recovery,
because it is not possible to get back to a mind that is unaffected by mental
illness. I do damage control, and I
maintain. That is the way of things with
an illness that has no cure. Ask anyone
with diabetes. They will tell you the
same.
Today, I have a list of things to do, a few of which require
that I leave the house. I may as well be
scaling Mount Everest. But I will do it
in spite of the agoraphobia that wants to hold me hostage in my house. Leaving the house and getting into the car
will take a Herculean effort, but I will do it, because it needs to be done,
and I need to keep forcing myself to keep pushing the disorder back into its
place so that I don’t lose all the ground I have gained.
I will continue to force myself to respond to people in
exchanges, because it has to be done. I
will smile when cued, respond appropriately when the conversation flow denotes
it, and I will express emotional responses even though I do not feel them; have
no emotional connection. Then I will
sleep a lot, because having to manually trigger myself in social situations is
absolutely exhausting to my mental functions.
This is how I get through times like this until things balance out. It is easier to attempt to appear somewhat as
usual to people in my life, so that those relationships are not harmed overly
much. I can do things manually for a
time. I just can’t do it indefinitely.
I suppose I should attempt a positive note here, but I have
to be authentic in my writing, so I will express the only thing I know
absolutely to be true right now, and that is that Abba is with me. He never leaves me alone, and even though I
see no point in life and continuing it, I know that he can handle what to do
with my life and where to take me whether I see a point to it right now or not. Today that is what I am hoping in. Maybe tomorrow there will be victory.
L
