It's been a long while since I was was last on here, I apologize for that. My emotions are so over the place lately as well as my thoughts I can't see to actually put down anything that would be coherent to anyone.
I'm still in the same frame of mind as I was when I wrote that post in February, though some changes have happened. I'm now officially diagnosed with depression and social anxiety, and am currently on medication to help me control it. I've just started my third month of a very low dosage of a basic medication. I went in to my general physician and told her basically of my state without going into too many details. She was able to prescribe me a medication that handles both my anxiety and depression without forcing me to see a therapist or anything. I have the option to go see one, though it's a lot of money and time wise uncertain of when I'd get in. Personally, I'm a fairly private person. I don't like to talk about myself, much less go into detail of my suicidal thoughts and erratic emotions. So for now, I'm holding off on a therapist. My doctor said it was unnecessary, though due to the fact I've had trouble making life choices because of my mental and emotional state, she suggested it may be helpful to consider to help me figure out the physical aspects of my life. I've kept it in the back of my mind. I've gotten so busy lately that I haven't really put much into it, and financially I doubt I could do it unless our insurance covers it. But for now, the medication is doin' alright. I think I'd like to up the dosage now that it has settled into my system I know how it's affecting me. I'm doing better, definitely better, though I could still use a bit more help. My circle of comfort has expanded a little bit, permitting me to go to more social functions such as church events, a formal dance (well not super formal, it was still pretty relaxed and I spent most of the time inhaling cupcakes), and considering online classes and other potential career pursuits. But I'm still hampered in finding a paying job outside of working as my grandmothers caretaker, and doing basic tasks that would allow me to lead a normal life apart from my parents.
I'm not really sure what prompted me to take the plunge to medication and finally coming forth to my parents that this was more than just a phase. I think more than anything the Lord simply directly put His hand in the situation. It came about mostly because of a ministry mission opportunity I wanted to consider in the next year or so, but I knew I wouldn't be able to without getting straightened out first. My mom was a big supporter of my consideration of this ministry, and during a conversation one morning where it became a real subject of actual consideration, I realized I couldn't hide anymore. So I just came out with it. Not in a stuttering, hesitant manner, but a straight in the eye, dead serious sort of way. I flat out said I'd never be able to do it if I didn't get help. She knew already about my anxiety as it had been briefly touched on, but I'd never been so serious or adamant before. I think she was a bit surprised by my forcefulness and gravity, so she easily and readily agreed.
Now, I'm in my third month of it and it feels like my life has changed entirely. First of all, I've settled in a general direction of career. I plan on pursuing ministry and writing/blogging as a joint pursuit. Hopefully one will start to see more physical results than a mere viewer count or volunteering, but I'm leaving finances and life changes to the Lord for now. I'm able to leave a lot more to God lately because my medication has enabled me to stop stressing about the distant future quite so much. It's also helped lighten my emotions so that it's easier for me to feel God's love and understanding. Before it just felt like my depression was cutting in between me and God's mercy. I knew it was there, but I felt so incapable of feeling it and so secluded that I really started to question just how much He cared. We aren't superhuman. Knowing and having faith doesn't automatically mean we can conquer things through sitting and hoping alone. I don't mean that medication should be your first go-to. I do think prayer and faith can change a lot, and will change a lot if you let it. But at the same time, there are some things we cannot physically help. You eat cause you can't help but need sustenance. Faith and prayer alone won't keep you from starving to death. Food was designed by God to nurture our needing bodies. In the same way, God gave us the answers to create medication to help heal our bodies when we are ailing and hurting. Just because mental illness can't be seen, doesn't mean it isn't as real as the flu. Depression and anxiety aren't always within our will's power alone. Sometimes the answer to those prayers is medicine. Again, because of the way it can change you and its potent side effects, I don't think it should be your first choice and you should just assume it's God's answer. But I don't think it should be cast out of your options either. I waited since I was 13 or 14 to get help for my problems. I tried everything I could before that. But throughout 18th year toward my 19th birthday, I finally conceded that I couldn't do it alone. For a long time that felt like failure, disappointment, and shame. I couldn't handle the idea that I, a devoted Christian, couldn't handle my own emotions and fears. I blamed God for not just taking them away. I questioned just how much He loved me if He left me with these feelings. I was praying, where was my rescue? Surely God knew I couldn't survive in this world without a job and talking to people. Why did He leave me to let it be so hard? Why was I left to constantly feel so sad and like I was drowning? I feared my faith and relationship with God was not there or not strong enough if I caved to medication. But then again, I was already questioning God, angry with Him, in denial of His love. How much worse could it really be? It took a long time, and a lot of signs from God, and help from my best friend, to come to not only know and think but also believe that medication was not poor faith's solution. I truly think God gave me this solution for a reason. It's not that He made me afraid, but that He gave me the tools I need to overcome it. It's not that I am failing in my life, but that He has given me different purpose than what most expect. Than what I expected.
This doesn't mean I'm not still struggling. I am. A lot. Most days are a like a scale that can't find balance, constantly leaning too far one way or the other. It was like that before, but the difference now is that I'm much closer to finding that balance, and I'm learning to take the good out of the bad. I still feel trapped inside my mind a lot. There are still nights I cry myself to sleep. There are still days I become uneasy about my fading scars, and miss the false sense of security that the pain, the blood, and the sight of my cuts gave me. Sounds sick, I know, but it's not something I can explain to someone who hasn't felt the need and addiction of self mutilation. It's not only the fact that it gives you a sort of high, but it brings a temporary, unstable emotional and mental rest too. Sort of like you're finally handling what felt untouchable before. There are days, many days, that I still feel like what I have is untouchable. It scares me, and it upsets me, I won't lie. Knowing how easily I can flip from perfectly fine to a sobbing mess is stress inducing in itself. My anxiety can be triggered by the simplest of things still. The fact that my tablet is malfunctioning, or driving myself to dance, or having to go see someone. Daily things still upset me. People still upset me. I freak out all the time. But lately, all the time is getting a little less often and not lasting quite as long. The smiles are coming to my face a little more often and a tad more naturally. I'm not necessarily breaking through, but I'm learning to cope, and that's a step.
Look, please, I ask of you, don't let anyone or anything prevent you from getting the help you need. You absolutely, 100% deserve it, whether it comes in the form of support from family and friends, a therapist, or a pill. Don't neglect your needs for suffering in silence. You are worth so much more than that. There is not one thing in this world that dictates someone else's worth over your own. No action, no amount of money, no fame, no beauty, no sacrifice, makes some else's life and well being more important than your own. You are free to be exactly what God calls you to be. Please don't let your mental illness hinder you from that. Don't pretend it isn't there. Don't live in denial. If you feel it, it's real. Jesus paid the same price for every actress and actor in Hollywood, the Pope, your neighbor, your best friend, the president, and your parents, as He did for you. You are completely and utterly priceless to Him. For that alone, you deserve help, love, and understanding. Never let anyone or anything convince you that you are not worth it.
"The story continues, and so does this deep knowledge. That every life - man, woman, boy, and girl - is incredibly, undoubtedly, completely priceless." (Priceless movie 2016)
This goes for everything, no matter what. You are loved by Jesus. You were bought with His blood, and to Him you are absolutely priceless. So don't let anyone tell you that you aren't worth it or don't deserve it.
