In a crazy cycle recently, (where my depression spirals because I rarely feel well, making me crumple in a fetal position, crying, wanting my life to be over because I feel so worthless) I came to a certain resolve. I wanted to be free. Free of the depression, free of the stress, of the health issues. I would plead to God to take it away, but still I struggled... every day... trying to find the reason why I want keep fighting, even though I don't feel well.
Can we ever really be free? Free of illness? Chronic illness? Free of mental issues? Depression? Anxiety? Anger? Debilitating conditions?
Scriptures say “we are free.” What the hell does that even mean? I mean, let’s talk spiritually speaking here. We are stuck in this world, this fallen world. Jesus came and said the words Himself, “if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” But in context, He was talking about sin though. We are free from the bondage of our own sin. (note to self: that doesn't mean the sin against us from others and obviously, this didn't stop the consequences of the physical fallen world, since we still get sick and die, BUT...) We are made spiritually new. (And when we rise, we will be made physically new) We will be found clean in the face of God when we meet Him, because of the freedom we have received from the Son. Does this give me hope? Yes.
But, but, but…..
What about today? What about now? I don’t mean to sound impatient, but not only have I been dealing with this illness, this depression for so long now but…. Where is the respite? I believe in miracles, but after watching Dad die of cancer, I learned that miracles come in different forms and not always the way you want them to happen.
I went through a serious bout of more depression recently that circled around that fact that I may never be free of this illness, this depression, this fatigue cycle. Once again, God was just a figure standing there with His back turned away from me. “Not this one. Not this time” was what I kept hearing in response for my pleading with God to release me from this struggle. I didn't understand why. I still don’t understand why. But something had to give. I wanted to give up but that’s where it got complicated. Can’t give up something that is in you, something that you are dealt, something that you've lost. Giving up was impossible, unless I was willing to kill myself. Sure. I thought about it. I thought about releasing my husband from a sick wife, releasing my kids from a sick mother. But then… I’m too much of a pansy and well… my babies are… babies. I couldn't even think about doing that to them. It was devastating losing my dad at 16, I didn't want to put them through something like that. No. I wanted to live… But I want to LIVE. Like really live, like tear up the yard because all my plans are ridiculous and so…. *Kailan*. Like paint and decorate weird things on my walls for company to find as they creep through our house. Like not only school the kids in just the basics of education, but really take them out and let them experience things to the fullest. Like actually play with them again. You know? LIVE!
But if I can’t be free…..where’s my hope in that? Sure, I may get better some day. I may not. But what I do know is that “today” I must.
I started reflecting on something then. God told Cain that he must master his anger. (I use this lesson a lot in parenting) Was Cain wrong to be angry about Abel’s offerings? (because Abel gave better than Cain) No. But he was angry at the wrong person. His anger was a trigger, given by God, something beautiful. But his first mistake was getting mad at the wrong person, second mistake was he didn't heed God’s advice. Third mistake…. He went ahead and killed Abel in his anger, permanently silencing him and permanently stirring his own demise…. All because he couldn't- wouldn't master it.
I found myself realizing that if I wasn't going to be free of depression, and maybe even this sickness, then I must learn to master it, before it kills me.
So the research went into hyper-drive. The first things Jesus did was help the physical. I needed to be my own Jesus. (is that sacrilege to say?) I needed to help myself physically. Things like getting my ass back into the doctors office and not giving up on that part of things. Eating healthier, drinking more water, and taking my vitamins. I don’t have a second head that’s going to do all this for me. (well... it seems I do have a second head, but she isn't very helpful) I have to stand up for myself and master as much as I can for my body’s sake. I’m still figuring all this out.
Then the emotional/mental; counseling and talking with intimate friends, people I trust. Letting them in. Doing things that fill me up. I’m an introvert, so my things are reading, writing, making music and art. An extrovert may want to get out and run with a bunch of people… (oh wait… my husband does that.) A big one here is forgiving my bad days and embracing my good ones. I’m still figuring all this out.
Then the spiritual: I’m on shaky grounds here. I question everything I knew. Sometimes I struggle in vain…. Heh… most times I do. I try to keep my head about me, but then lose it. I get mad at people when they start talking spiritual to me about my health issues. “You’re going through this for a reason.” (makes me feel like a puppet on a string) “God will never give you anything you can’t handle” (right. And that’s why Christians kill themselves…. Or are killed. And actually, that line is often misquoted, so boom.) “Can’t you just shake it off and keep moving?” (shake it off… without breaking out in song, I ****ing wish I could shake it off and move the body that has it’s own agenda…. Ah! Dang it. Now that dang song is struck in my head) But in all seriousness, I'm letting myself wrestle with my faith. I love God. He is awesome. I just don't always "feel" His awesomeness. And maybe that's ok? I’m still figuring all this out.
I've made up my mind though. I’m going to master this.
I watched the movie “The Gabby Douglas Story” recently. (awesome movie on Netflix, btw) and as I watched this sweet girl’s young life unfold, I saw the struggle, the passion, the desperation, and the hope. I saw this extraordinary family come together around this girl with extraordinary talent, but ultimately, it was up to her to find her teacher, do the work, fall and rise, and master her skills. She killed it at the Olympics, by the way.
There’s going to be a lot of days when I fail, but this is my trying. Mastering this doesn't even mean that “all will be well”, it just means that I have a plan to discipline myself. On my good days, I’m going to play and laugh, get stuff done, make my weird "kailan" creations. On my bad days, I’m going to cry, not eat when I don’t want to, slow down, forgive myself, cuddle a lot (since that’s the main thing I’m able to still be good at) and go to bed early. Mastering this means I’m going to stop telling myself that I’m not worth it. Or that I’m not a good wife and that he could do better/ have better. Mastering this means I’m going to change that self-talk. I am valuable to Him. I am talented. I am really really good at cuddling no matter what state I’m in. I have a husband, my support system, who goes to the moon and back for me because he thinks I’m worth it. I have friends that love me and all my quirks.
Any time I want to simply be free of my depression and illness, I just get more depressed.
That only leaves me one logical living choice. I must master it.
And so far…. I’m starting to have real hope.
What about today? What about now? I don’t mean to sound impatient, but not only have I been dealing with this illness, this depression for so long now but…. Where is the respite? I believe in miracles, but after watching Dad die of cancer, I learned that miracles come in different forms and not always the way you want them to happen.
I went through a serious bout of more depression recently that circled around that fact that I may never be free of this illness, this depression, this fatigue cycle. Once again, God was just a figure standing there with His back turned away from me. “Not this one. Not this time” was what I kept hearing in response for my pleading with God to release me from this struggle. I didn't understand why. I still don’t understand why. But something had to give. I wanted to give up but that’s where it got complicated. Can’t give up something that is in you, something that you are dealt, something that you've lost. Giving up was impossible, unless I was willing to kill myself. Sure. I thought about it. I thought about releasing my husband from a sick wife, releasing my kids from a sick mother. But then… I’m too much of a pansy and well… my babies are… babies. I couldn't even think about doing that to them. It was devastating losing my dad at 16, I didn't want to put them through something like that. No. I wanted to live… But I want to LIVE. Like really live, like tear up the yard because all my plans are ridiculous and so…. *Kailan*. Like paint and decorate weird things on my walls for company to find as they creep through our house. Like not only school the kids in just the basics of education, but really take them out and let them experience things to the fullest. Like actually play with them again. You know? LIVE!
But if I can’t be free…..where’s my hope in that? Sure, I may get better some day. I may not. But what I do know is that “today” I must.
I started reflecting on something then. God told Cain that he must master his anger. (I use this lesson a lot in parenting) Was Cain wrong to be angry about Abel’s offerings? (because Abel gave better than Cain) No. But he was angry at the wrong person. His anger was a trigger, given by God, something beautiful. But his first mistake was getting mad at the wrong person, second mistake was he didn't heed God’s advice. Third mistake…. He went ahead and killed Abel in his anger, permanently silencing him and permanently stirring his own demise…. All because he couldn't- wouldn't master it.
I found myself realizing that if I wasn't going to be free of depression, and maybe even this sickness, then I must learn to master it, before it kills me.
So the research went into hyper-drive. The first things Jesus did was help the physical. I needed to be my own Jesus. (is that sacrilege to say?) I needed to help myself physically. Things like getting my ass back into the doctors office and not giving up on that part of things. Eating healthier, drinking more water, and taking my vitamins. I don’t have a second head that’s going to do all this for me. (well... it seems I do have a second head, but she isn't very helpful) I have to stand up for myself and master as much as I can for my body’s sake. I’m still figuring all this out.
Then the emotional/mental; counseling and talking with intimate friends, people I trust. Letting them in. Doing things that fill me up. I’m an introvert, so my things are reading, writing, making music and art. An extrovert may want to get out and run with a bunch of people… (oh wait… my husband does that.) A big one here is forgiving my bad days and embracing my good ones. I’m still figuring all this out.
Then the spiritual: I’m on shaky grounds here. I question everything I knew. Sometimes I struggle in vain…. Heh… most times I do. I try to keep my head about me, but then lose it. I get mad at people when they start talking spiritual to me about my health issues. “You’re going through this for a reason.” (makes me feel like a puppet on a string) “God will never give you anything you can’t handle” (right. And that’s why Christians kill themselves…. Or are killed. And actually, that line is often misquoted, so boom.) “Can’t you just shake it off and keep moving?” (shake it off… without breaking out in song, I ****ing wish I could shake it off and move the body that has it’s own agenda…. Ah! Dang it. Now that dang song is struck in my head) But in all seriousness, I'm letting myself wrestle with my faith. I love God. He is awesome. I just don't always "feel" His awesomeness. And maybe that's ok? I’m still figuring all this out.
I've made up my mind though. I’m going to master this.
I watched the movie “The Gabby Douglas Story” recently. (awesome movie on Netflix, btw) and as I watched this sweet girl’s young life unfold, I saw the struggle, the passion, the desperation, and the hope. I saw this extraordinary family come together around this girl with extraordinary talent, but ultimately, it was up to her to find her teacher, do the work, fall and rise, and master her skills. She killed it at the Olympics, by the way.
There’s going to be a lot of days when I fail, but this is my trying. Mastering this doesn't even mean that “all will be well”, it just means that I have a plan to discipline myself. On my good days, I’m going to play and laugh, get stuff done, make my weird "kailan" creations. On my bad days, I’m going to cry, not eat when I don’t want to, slow down, forgive myself, cuddle a lot (since that’s the main thing I’m able to still be good at) and go to bed early. Mastering this means I’m going to stop telling myself that I’m not worth it. Or that I’m not a good wife and that he could do better/ have better. Mastering this means I’m going to change that self-talk. I am valuable to Him. I am talented. I am really really good at cuddling no matter what state I’m in. I have a husband, my support system, who goes to the moon and back for me because he thinks I’m worth it. I have friends that love me and all my quirks.
Any time I want to simply be free of my depression and illness, I just get more depressed.
That only leaves me one logical living choice. I must master it.
And so far…. I’m starting to have real hope.
