Alice, at last.

"Why are you downcast, O my soul?"
(Psalm 42:5)

That's a question I have found myself asking recently.

Depression and anxiety are no modern constructs. It seems that with the growing intensity of stress from sources, more and more people are experiencing it.

Yet, there still remains a growing amount of curiosity and a lingering stigma attached to issues with mental health. I have found myself boggled when it comes to describing bipolar disorder and psychosis to others who have not experienced it. And, as much as I would like to be able to help shed light on the illness, it seems the difficulty involved in vocalizing these experiences is very real.

Recently I saw a blog post from one of my favorite non-profits, To Write Love on Her Arms. I was encouraged by the way that a girl diagnosed with bipolar disorder was able to be so positive despite her trials.

I found myself becoming more and more empowered in the past, but that sense of empowerment had started to fade after I made a poor decision with medication.

"What is mania?"
A friend asked after I told her that I had just experienced it.

I gave a textbook answer. I had regurgitated these terms before.

The answer sounded like a definition you would find on Wikipedia, but in it was hidden bits of frustration.

"The opposite of depression with bipolar people. It's no fun. Well it seems fun. It gives you a euphoric feeling and you feel super bold and confident but it can go into psychosis"

I was tired of not being able to distinguish reality at times. Though I had become better at figuring out when something was happening, the last few times I had become manic they seemed like a normal thing to me. The last full episode of psychosis is what threw me into depression.

The delusional thoughts seemed to terrorize me and haunt me long after I had recovered. I would have a day or two of peace and then I would be in that drab reality. The techniques from the therapist only went so far, but I was learning to cope.

What has helped the most is realizing that I am who I am and not my emotions. The emotions may color how I view my world and, at times, they may color my world quite vibrantly; but my emotions do not dictate who I am, nor do they rule me.

My favorite line from a story that stems from a girl struggling through mental issues herself is
"Alice, at last."
Well, I actually haven't read the book, but in the film that moment is pivotal and very meaningful to me. It is the point when Alice, after defeating the beast, finally displays the courage and confidence she had been holding on to all along. It took the caterpillar calling out this growth in Alice for her to realize that she was more than who she thought she was.

I am dreaming of the day when I, too, will discover the fullness of my potential. God has been slowly blowing away the dust and decay and restoring me as I ought to be. The me that's going to take on the world in the future is the me that has been there all along, just a little rusty and beat up from the wear and tear of life. Though I may be a "work in progress", I am ready to be the advocate that he has called me to be; starting with this post.

I hope that this post finds you at a place in life where you need it most... whether you be someone hurting and confused from a diagnosis that you have received, or whether you be someone that is interested in helping others through their journey...
Whoever you are,
You matter.
Your story matters, your dreams matter, and you will make an impact on this planet that nobody else can.

Flight

I always find myself writing at happier times. It is hard to write when things can't be figured out or put together.

Sometimes, even in the good times, I wish I could find the words to put to emotions and experiences. It is always comforting when someone can help put to words the things you have felt. I found myself relating to David when he described his anguish because of the "voice of the enemy" and oppression.
He longed to fly away as if he had "the wings of the dove".

I found myself so many times recently longing to simply escape the troubles of life. The burdens seemed too much to bear. I knew I had to turn and face my fears, but for some reason I could no longer see the victory. My vision was blurred. No matter how hard I tried, it seemed as though I couldn't get up. Literally. I couldn't find the strength to leave my room at points. The enemy was having a great time poking and prodding me. I imagine the little chain tied to my ankle, like a baby elephant. There is no way the chain could hold down that magnificent creature, but... as long as he believes it, the chain will hold him down.

I needed just one breath, one break, one step away to see that I have a marvelous destiny. Holding on that long was worth it. The place I was in I hope not to return. So I will at any cost do my best to prepare for those moments.

I realized like a person training for a marathon or even just to stay in shape, will work on muscles, building them up, yet, with consistency. As soon as that consistency is lost, there is no telling what could happen. Usually, all of the work before that point is lost. And, gaining muscle takes pain and persistence. I have learned by watching my mom work hard towards her goals. Just as this physical fitness takes effort, persistence and consistency, so does a spiritual fitness.

I shall press on, bold and strong.