My first Monday as ’employable’. It feels strange. Almost like the world is moving on without me. Which it is. It’s doing it’s thing while I try to regain my sanity and figure out which way is up. It’s like you all are in the fish bowl and I’m a guppy gasping for life on the countertop. I’m ready for someone to put me back in the water.

I’ve mentioned faith, Jesus, and a few bible versus thus far. But I feel like I need to take today and open that door all the way. I want to make it clear that I am hiking the rocky terrain of mental health at the same time I am wrestling with authentic faith. I’m asking myself big, complicated questions like:

Is there supposed to be a healthy relationship between medications and trusting in the power of Jesus?

Will the power of Jesus work through medication?

Why, why, why can’t the good Lord just take me home, like, yesterday?

What does it look like to trust in Jesus when I just want to let myself rot?

How can I have  peace, joy, and hope when I am clouded by an inexplicable darkness?

Big. Complicated. Messy. You need to know that I believe Jesus is my one true Savior and the only way I get to heaven. I believe that He is in this some how. And I am always going to ask follow up questions regarding any relevancy to my faith. I have this desperate hope inside me that is thirsting for the impossibilities of divine intervention.

I vowed to myself after one of my failed attempts at suicide (a long time ago) that it would not be suicide that would take me. I wrote it on a little piece of paper and put it in a tiny red and white box, tied with a ribbon. It sits on my shelf and even when I can’t see it, it reminds me of my promise. A promise to myself, my friends and family, and to the Lord. Resisting this temptation is my way of believing that I am here for something that involves and is much bigger than me. It’s how I fight the good fight.

Here’s the thing though. The harder I fight to keep going, the harder it seems hell and all it’s fury tries to set me back. I like to think I am like the girl the devil refers to in the morning when he says, “Oh shit. She’s up!”. Like rally the troops. The world’s most stubborn depressed person is awake.

Mental health is a part of me. Just like my faith. And all my other parts. Which means it plays a crucial role in my story and my dealings with depression. It is a constant laying down of suffering and pain at the cross. It is a constant wailing and crying to the Creator of the Universe rather than into nothingness or theories of evolution. Faith is not just a coping mechanism for me. It’s living and saving grace.

I don’t know if faith colors the landscape of your mental health journey but I hope it does. I am NOT perfect. I have NOT figured it out (obviously). I am terrible at balancing the voice of God with my own. I fail at trusting the Lord on a regular basis.

But in all that and in all the writing to come, I know God is here in the mystery. And this will not be the last you hear of it.

Challenge: Play piano for a half hour.



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