I was commenting on someone’s post today about the trajectory of my healing.
I compared my state of mental health a few years ago to Humpty Dumpty. All the “king’s” gtherapies and prayers and medications and hospitalizations couldn’t put me together again. I was, I thought, irretrievably broken.
We lost our house to a fire in 2018. Then, we were stuck in a crummy rental while our house was rebuilt. But I had so much hope. I just knew that a brand new house would give me the breakthrough I needed.
Nope. I just struggled in a different setting. Everything felt impossible. Leaving the house was pure torture. I didn’t feel great at home, either, though. Dread was my constant companion, and I felt sick in my soul.
The worst was episodes where I would be consumed by terror for hours on end. I called these episodes “panic attacks.” But what I read about panic attacks didn’t match my experience at all. I didn’t have trouble breathing or think I was having a heart attack. And it lasted hours, not minutes.
What would I call it, then? The closest I’ve come is a question the suicidal poet Sylvia Plath wrote: “Is there no way out of my mind?” Truly, I don’t want anyone to understand; it’s too horrific. But of course I can’t be the only one to have suffered this way.
How is it, then, that my life now is an endless stream of simple delight? I love being alive, and can scarcely believe that I tried to die. I have problems, frustrations, and concerns. There is an ongoing crisis in my extended family that is heartbreaking. But I am whole. I’m filled with joy.
When I try to explain how and why things changed, I’m baffled. It’s a lot like how my younger son grew. Both of my boys are over six feet tall. The older one had a dramatic growth spurt. But the younger one, who actually became the taller of the two, never seemed to grow in an obvious way. He grew by millimeters. I’d suddenly notice him getting closer to my height (I’m almost six feet tall), or we’d dig out his dress pants for an event and they were too short. But it didn’t happen all at once.
I believe that healing can happen in one fell swoop for some people. A prayer is answered. An insight in therapy changes everything. A medication or therapy brings miraculous results right away.
But many, many times on this platform it’s been noted that tiny bits of progress can eventually become mountains that move. You keep doing the things: therapy, meds, seeking God. And one day the sun shines, and keeps shining.
So my message is hardly original, but it’s borne of genuine experience. All I want is for one person to read this, and to believe that they can become unstuck, too. All of the scattered pieces of your mind can, in fact, come together again. Just keep showing up for yourself. Miracles happen every day, and one day, it will be your turn!
#Bipolar #Depression #GAD #OCD #PTSD
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