Long Time No See

Hey Guys,

This has been one of those weeks, one of those lows where you withdraw from the world and just cross your fingers and hope the pain ends soon. You cry, you sleep, you snap and hide, but you definitely don't pray. Why? Because:

14 We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. 15 I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17 As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18 For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature.[c] For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. --Romans 7:14-20

All time favorite verse and the story of my life! You know, I can in all honestly say there's not a time, that I remember, that I did not know when I did something morally wrong. I might have done it and been unwilling to apologize as in my youth, or unwilling to stop, as an adult. But as I sift through my many unpleasant memories I remember that, I always knew I was wrong and did it anyways. I wouldn't be at all surprised to find I've missed sins (the "unknown sins"), but I literally don't remember a time someone had to point something out to me that I didn't already know and was simply ignoring, turning a blind eye or blatantly staring  at and saying "screw you" to God. I am the opiteme of Romans 7. I never wanted to sin. I never wanted to live so morally depraved or even have a miserable week this past week, but I did. And I did it flamboyantly. I flaunted my wretchedness and pain and basically gave the finger to God. But why?! Why is it so hard to be good, especially when we know how! We know the laws! We're given what's right and wrong in one handy dandy, fit in your phone rule book! And yet, yet, we are sinners.

21 So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. 22 For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; 23 but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me.24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? --Romans 7:21-24

Who indeed? But I think you know the answer, as we all do once God begins to work in our hearts.

25 Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin. --Romans 7:25

Thanks be.

But some of you, I know, are questioning that last verse, as I did. I mean, if I am a slave to the law of sin then I have no choice to sin and can therefore just give up on trying to be good. I mean I try and try, but I just can't, I can't stop thinking these ungodly thoughts. I need time to brace myself before I give this sin up. I conquer one sin only to find another has taken it's place. Or I just don't want to stop even though I know it's wrong. That's the hardest I think: I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. Doesn't make a lot of sense? Think about it. Haven't you ever had a sin that you knew was wrong, in your mind, but just didn't weigh on your conscious? And maybe you haven't, but I have and it makes it more difficult to stop. Maybe you think the Holy Spirit controls your conscious and that's not possible but I would disagree.

God made sex special and to be within the confines of marriage, but I've never felt guilty about living with my boyfriends. I knew I shouldn't and I wanted to be married, but you'd be hard pressed to tell me I didn't enjoy every second of my time with them physically, especially in the bedroom, with ease. The only guilt I felt, was not having guilt. I do believe that the Holy Spirit uses your conscious, what I always see as that gut feeling in your stomach when you feel bad about what you're doing, to help us steer clear of our sins. But in some cases He has to resort to other means. In my case with sex, the Holy Spirit used the respect I have gained for God and my future husband to stop me from breaking God's law. Because ultimately there's no point in looking for ways to stop sinning, sinning is only a by-product of our sinful nature. There's nothing we can do about it. It's only once we believe that Jesus died for our sins and receive the Holy Spirit, that we belong to God and...

14 For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. 15 The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8"14-15

We may stumble or sink, but He's always there to catch us as he did  Peter in Matthew 14. We talked about that in church two weeks ago. Jesus was walking on the water and Peter called to him and with faith he walked on water, but without that faith he began to sink. With faith we will not sin, but we lose faith constantly and yet ultimately, as Jesus caught Peter from drowning despite his lack of faith, so too will Jesus save us from the sins that would send us to Hell.

To those of you who simply cannot stop sinning. Those of you who are self-medicating, trying to fill that gaping hole. You can't fill it. You're in the middle of horrific pain and uncontrollable anguish because you keep trying. And it just drags you down deeper and deeper into an abyss of self-loathing. I know, because I've been there. The same self-loathing that so many of you feel. I've felt too. This is for you:

"Take counsel.

I hear your cry.
It passes through the darkness, filters through the clouds, mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my heart on the path of a sunbeam.
I have anguished over the cry of a hare choked in the noose of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the nest of its mother, a child thrashing helplessly in a pond, and a son shedding his blood on a cross.
Know that I hear you, also. Be at peace. Be calm.
I bring thee relief for your sorrow for I know its cause ... and its cure.
You weep for all your childhood dreams that have vanished with the years.
You weep for all your self-esteem that has been corrupted by failure.
You weep for all your potential that has been bartered for security.
You weep for all your talent that has been wasted through misuse.
You look upon yourself with disgrace and you turn in terror from the image you see in the pool. Who is this mockery of humanity staring back at you with bloodless eyes of shame?
Where is the grace of your manner, the beauty of your figure, the quickness of your movement, the clarity of your mind, the brilliance of your tongue? Who stole your goods? Is the thief's identity known to you, as it is to me?
Once you placed your head in a pillow of grass in your father's field and looked up at a cathedral of clouds and knew that all the gold of Babylon would be yours in time.
Once you read from many books and wrote on many tablets, convinced beyond any doubt that all the wisdom of Solomon would be equaled and surpassed by you.
And the seasons would flow into years until lo, you would reign supreme in your own garden of Eden.
Dost thou remember who implanted those plans and dreams and seeds of hope within you?
You cannot.
You have no memory of that moment when first you emerged from your mother's womb and I placed my hand on your soft brow. And the secret I whispered in your small ear when I bestowed my blessings upon you?
Remember our secret?
You cannot.
The passing years have destroyed your recollection, for they have filled your mind with fear and doubt and anxiety and remorse and hate and there is no room for joyful memories where these beasts habitate.
Weep no more. I am with you ... and this moment is the dividing line of your life. All that has gone before is like unto no more than that time you slept within your mother's womb. What is past is dead. Let the dead bury the dead.
This day you return from the living dead.
This day, like unto Elijah with the widow's son, I stretch myself upon thee three times and you live again.
This day, like unto Elisha with the Shunammite's son, I put my mouth upon your mouth and my eyes upon your eyes and my hands upon your hands and your flesh is warm again.
This day, like unto Jesus at the tomb of Lazarus, I command you to come forth and you will walk from your cave of doom to begin a new life.
This is your birthday. This is your new date of birth. Your first life, like unto a play of the theatre, was only a rehearsal. This time the curtain is up. This time the world watches and waits to applaud. This time you will not fail.
Light your candles. Share your cake. Pour the wine. You have been reborn.
Like a butterfly from its chrysalis you will fly ... fly as high as you wish, and neither the wasps nor dragonflies nor mantids of mankind shall obstruct your mission or your search for the true riches of life.
Feel my hand upon thy head.
Attend to my wisdom.
Let me share with you, again, the secret you heard at your birth and forgot.
You are my greatest miracle.
You are the greatest miracle in the world."
--Og Mandino "The God Memorandum" The Greatest Miracle in the World

You've fallen and you can't get up. You've hit rock bottom. You just can't do this anymore. But you can! Look around you! Open your eyes! There are people who love you! Here's an excerpt from a novel I'm writing:

My eyes blurred and a tear escaped and slipped down my cheek to fall to the ground. I looked at my hands, clenched together around a single Lily, the pink hues contrasting starkly with the pure white of the lone blossom. Through my hazy vision I caught a glimpse of red as a hand reached out and offered me a handkerchief. I looked up into my father's eyes and I leaned into his embrace gratefully.

I was numb. The excruciating pain had left only to leave me feeling spiritless and void of emotion. I didn't know how I could ever get past today, past this moment, this minute...this funeral.

I gazed upon John's casket. My husband was dead. He had abandoned me just when I needed him the most. Oh how could he leave me! I held onto that anger, anything to keep the whispers away. Nothing would ever be right again!. Time became meaningless the moment the brakes gave out in his car. In that moment, I knew, the world no longer held any value.

I had loved John more than the world itself. I loved him with all my heart, soul, mind, and body. He was my life, and without him, this so called “life” of mine was worthless.

Through these hazy moments streaks of clarity came now and then, but I just couldn't see past the catastrophe that had ripped my world apart. I couldn't see the people around me that loved me as much as I loved my husband. I couldn't see that, in the end, everything would be alright. I couldn't, and I didn't want to.

You're so set on being miserable and you don't have to be! Look to your family and friends! Look to God! TALK to people! I'm here to help and to tell you, you don't have to do it the hard way. You don't have to lose 9 years of your life. Learn from my experiences and of those around you. It WILL be alright. I PROMISE.

With all my love,

Kt

"Socially Unacceptable"

Hi All,

I've had Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) just about always, although we didn't know it till much later. And compared to Bipolar it is the BPD that is more prevalent in my life. When I was growing up I had to be treated differently than my other siblings because of this. I don't know much about it, but part of it has to do with seeing things subjectively versus objectively - to the extreme. One of my therapists told me that when my brain's told to react on a scale of 1-10, due to my disorder I only have two choices...1 and 10, but also magnified to more like -10 and 20.

You can ask my parents, but I think I was getting a better grasp on it when towards the end of high school. But then, when I got back from my internship in Canada at 18, the sudden onset of Bipolar just made things ridiculously more complicated. Because not only did I begin to have ups and downs, but due to BPD my ups and downs were drastically amplified. The biggest problem was I didn't learn any of this until a couple months down the road after the Bipolar "set in."

Let me dig into this a little deeper. No one knows what causes Bipolar, or most mental illnesses. There's a strong genetic impact though. If you have an aunt or grandmother, so on and so forth, your more likely to have this disorder, although it may be dormant. People are known to have an onset from as early as 5 years of age (although doctors are not allowed to treat it as such with one so young) to as late as 45. I haven't heard many people's stories about when they became bipolar, because I suspect, not many people know. It's not until it gets bad enough to be acknowledged that it gets identified.

My sudden onset was crazy easy to plot on a timeline because I was such a "good girl." I was 18 and independent. I had a great relationship with my parents, siblings, friends, God. I was doted on as the baby at work, given "cookie breaks" instead of smoke breaks. I felt like everything was perfect. And then, I really don't know how it happened. One minute I'm proud of myself for my independent, march-to-the-beat-of-my-own-drum personality who always turns down offers to go to parties and then one day it's like a switch turned off or something. I let a girl take me to a party and within the next week, week you guys! I had my first drink, got drunk, had my first blunt, got high and lost my virginity. And all that was like adding fuel to embers, suddenly, poof! my life is a bonfire. That is sudden onset.

Of course, I tried to hide this life from my parents, and managed a dual personality for a while. I find, that while everyone knows I'm an atrocious liar, when my life depends on it, I'm smoother than a shot of Cabo Wabo (that's tequila Mom - hey I can still make jokes!). But seriously now, you question me on this statement. "Katie, you're exaggerating again. Telling the truth about partying would not jeopardize your life." But think now. I've been giving you insight to this new kind of mind and in mine the world ended if my parents found out I was partying. I literally couldn't see anything past that day...and when they found out, it did end and you won't change my mind about that. Up and till then I could ignore the fact that I had lost it, but then facing the changes in my life, nothing was the same. One era ended, another began.

I instantly became suicidal. And you should know, there are two different types of being suicidally susceptible. Because initially I was the passive suicidee and later I was more aggressive. After the end to my world I just didn't care what happened to me. I wasn't actively looking for ways to die, because honestly? I didn't even have the strength to put forth effort. But it would have been so, very, very easy to have let go of the wheel on my way to one of the counseling sessions. That's passive. let's not talk about aggressive today.

Of course, no one knew ANY of this except my parents, not even my siblings. I stopped everything and hid in my room. I told my parents not to tell ANYONE and wouldn't take any calls asking where I was or what was going on. I was petrified of people finding out. Mom tried to make me go to church one day, but I couldn't do it. I started crying hysterically and refused to go in. No one understood why, I didn't understand why. But Mom figured it out before I did. I was scared, because in my past life everything was great, everything was perfect and amazing and my life outlook was pure. And everyone else I knew was like that too, obviously. All my friends and their families anyways, anybody I knew.

How could I let those perfect people know I was so screwed up? If they found out I'd just be pitied and looked down upon. I'd never be respected or loved again. I didn't know this is how I was thinking, but luckily Mom did catch on, and she started letting stories drop about people in the church (only ones who didn't mind) who also were having difficulties, of any kind. And yet, it still took me years to understand I'm not the only one who has problems. Worse though, was that when I figured this out I was angered by the fact that people put up this good front, portray this perfect life, when in reality, it's not.

I'm not writing this blog to attack anyone, I promise, but I have yet to figure out why people hide their troubles. If we were more open about our struggles the devil wouldn't have such a foothold on our souls. Avoiding looking at them, acknowledging them, talking about them, they fester and grow. We need accountability and help from others with the same types of weaknesses. But how can we find these people with the same types of problems if we can't even talk about them?

There are enough people out there who look at me funny when I mention suicide attempts, alcohol, drugs or sex and they're many times Christians, the one set of people I should feel safe talking to about these things. I still have a hard time to this day talking about almost any of my struggles, because mine are the "socially unacceptable" ones, at least to Christians. In the non-Christian world it's easy to talk about, and yes, the major reason for this is it's usually condoned, but that also means I'm a lot more likely to talk to someone who condones my behavior than to someone who condemns me for it and that's not good.

Which in turn means you're probably not going to get many converts from the people in the world I lived in if you're not even willing to discuss why having a one night stand leaves a gaping hole in you, when it was so much fun and you felt fine before the guy got up and left without leaving his name or number. If you don't know what to say to a person like that, then you haven't talked with enough people who have "socially unacceptable" problems. And, as we've been talking about in Sunday school, it comes down to pride. We have too much pride to let people know about our faults. Or in this case of this Pharisee, we are too righteous to even acknowledge them.

9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” ~Luke 18:9-14

There's two things I want you to take away from this. The obvious one, don't condone, pretty self-explanatory and one I partially covered. The not so obvious one...look closer at verse 13. "But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’" You think that those people out there, partying, getting wasted, sleeping around are being stupid? Well yes, but do you know why? There's that hole, that huge gaping hole and it hurts so so bad. let's do something, anything that can fill it, even if it's just for a second! Let's numb the pain with alcohol, let's subdue those self-loathing voices with drugs, let's try to find a moment of love or pleasure in the touch of another human just as lonely as myself.

And it works to an extent. Those people are having a blast! Truly. But only while they're, what we call "self-medicating", which is why they're constantly partying till 3 am in the morning, till they pass out, because how else are they going to get to sleep? Not by thinking about the hell they're living in that's for sure.  These are the people that we need to talk to! These are the people that need to be heard - the good, the bad and the ugly. Let us not shy away from subjects because they offend our way of thinking, because that poor 16 year old boy punching holes in the wall, or that 19 year old girl cutting herself, the young alcoholic, the slightly older crack whore, they, like everyone else in the world, need someone who is willing to listen and try to understand...why. For in one or another, they hate themselves.

I hated myself with a vengeance during those difficult years. I literally said to myself - out loud - every time I looked in the mirror, "you're a slut, you're a hoe."  It was almost a mantra. I didn't believe anyone could or would ever love me.  Now, I'm  not saying people who hate themselves are going to Heaven, but these are the types of people who, once they realize they CAN somehow be pure again, will end up like this tax-collector, beating their chest and shouting, "Please forgive me! You did so much for me and yet I never repay you with thanks but as with slander I cut you down! I am so sorry!"

And I still feel self-loathing sometimes. It was only two weeks ago that I caught myself banging my head against the wall behind my bed, "Why can't you change? why can't you be a "good girl" again? Why do you always go back to that evil way of living?!" I've screwed up and I know it. I still screw up and it's only through grace, or rather, the forgiveness of someone who will forgive us because He loves us and not because we deserve it, that I am ever going to make it to Heaven. To those of you who are reading my blog more for the relevance to your own life. Maybe you hate yourself as much as I did, or maybe you don't even know you do, as I didn't. Well then, to you especially, take heart in this verse and not because it's putting those Pharisees in their place, but because it's God saying, "don't worry, I got you."

You may not know yet, why or how he would do this: pardon the wrongs of such sinners, but for now be content in knowing that acknowledging your sins is the first step to closing that distance between you and Jesus Christ. Seeing that there's a problem, even if you don't know how to handle it and then maybe even taking it a step further and deciding that's not who you want to be anymore. Those are the giant baby steps that will be the aspirin to the migraine you have from banging your head against the wall.

Kt

A Beginning

Dear All,

Recently God has reminded me of the task he gave me 9 years ago. A task I've put off, always waiting to be "fixed" first. Well, I'll never be "fixed" and if I constantly wait for that day to come I'm going to be waiting a very, very long time. This is a good a time as ever to begin. So here I am, beginning, with you my friends and family. I want to open myself up to you. To avail what I've learned about being bi-polar, BPD and completely messed up. I want to help the hopeless find the answers they seek, the answers they yearn for. And for many of you, their friends and family, I want you to understand what your loved one is going through.

I always knew I caused my family pain, beyond which I was scared to acknowledge, and to the point where I believed for years and still struggle with today, that I am the cause for all my family's problems. I was told recently, by two different family members that, while I caused them no end of misery, they always knew that what anguish they felt by my actions, they knew I was suffering exponentially. That simple understanding soothed my soul. Although, honestly? Understanding is not always simple, especially in a world where emotions run rampant and right and wrong blur together to form a grey that is messy and ugly.

No much is simple at all in that world. I remember much of my life by how old I was when it happened. When I was 18 I had sudden onset Bipolar, I met my first serious boyfriend when I was 20, etc. There is this one year in particular that this embodies the most. That's the one I call "Year 19". It's the year I was at my complete worst. It was a year I have hazy recollections of at best. 12 months of a drunken stupor, without the alcohol. Sometimes I say that year was so painful I've just blocked it out of my memory, but truly? I don't think that's it at all. I cycled rapidly that year between depression and manic to the point where it became a tornado of emotions. And emotions are powerful. Then when they come from nowhere and don't belong to anything, chaos reigns.

Let me explain that better. Many of you are used to the more simplistic thought of, if it's broken, you get upset, you fix it (or buy a new one), you're happy again. But not so for those with clinical depression, bipolar and many others some of which may not even have names yet. For those people, nothing has to break for them to be upset, which means there's nothing to fix, to make them happy again. I know it's hard to wrap your head around, but if you can, try to imagine what it's like to be sad, for no reason! And to not be able to get happy, because how?! How do you get happy, when there's nothing broken?

Of course, there is a slight flaw in my analogy in that your brain's chemicals are pretty messed up, but finding the right meds is a long process, one that's not easy and I'll talk about in the future. For now I want you to understand that depression is serious, misery that's not only magnified 10 times that of a normal sadness but also has no end in sight. You can only cling to God in hope that there will one day be an end. That's depression, manic however is even harder to explain, maybe because I still don't grasp it very well myself.

I know a couple things though. You do tend to think you're invincible, to the point of doing extremely stupid things without ever stopping to consider the consequences. I know you're thinking, well that's common in teens now. But it's more extreme than that. I'll give you a personal example. My second suicide attempt I was manic. My dad had taken away my car in year 19 and we fought. I told him he didn't love me, shouted some expletives and then told him he wouldn't even care if I left and was hit by a car. I asked him if that was what he wanted, me to get hit by a car? I was so manic i couldn't think straight. You're mind is jumbled and is working too fast to keep up with you and it can't focus on one subject long enough to see any wisdom in any situation. I remember running down the street in a frenzy and onto Cary Parkway thinking nonsensical thoughts and the one that kept coming back was that I had to prove to Dad that I was a woman of my word. I don't think at this point I even remembered the argument. Next thing you know I'm stepping out in front of a car and ending up in the emergency room.

I say it was a suicide attempt, but that really wasn't what it was. I never even considered whether I'd die or not. I don't think I thought it was possible, because I was "invincible". That is manic at it's worst though. At it's best you just make impulsive decisions and are beyond happy and usually talk a mile a minute. It's usually actually a lot of fun. But unlike depression there's always an end in sight. After manic always comes depression. that's the cycle for bi-polars, Manic, depression, manic, depression and so on. Do you start to see how "year 19" is a haze? I cycled fast that year, one week manic, the next depressed.

It wasn't easy on anyone, but it was hardest on me. As I know it's hard on some of you. I want you to know you're not alone. I know people don't like to talk about this kind of stuff and it's ok if you don't either. What you're going through is confusing and terrifying. That's why I'm writing this. To assure you that you're not alone. And it's not just me. You don't think I got through life being this honest without accruing quite a few friends who are going through just as much? And I'm hoping to meet a ton more with these posts. I would also like to encourage those of you who have come through the hell fire whole, to tell some of your successes. Because even I haven't heard enough of those, and I don't think you can ever hear enough. "Because ultimately it will be you, looking back at yourself, seeing how you've improved or fallen ~all depending. Nevertheless, always growing." That's straight out of my journal in May of 2010.

This was a little background on mental illness in general. After this I'll bring in the spiritual implications with mental illnesses as well as what's happening emotionally and physically. I'm thinking next time I'll work with on of my new favorite verses:

9 To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” ~Luke 18:9-14

Till next time,Kt