Some days I feel like recovery is in my grasp, as if the meds are actually working, and I can get things done and be successful. Other days, days like today, I feel like I’m trapped under my symptoms. I feel awkward, ignored, and all I want to do is hide and be away from people. I have to fight the urge to stay home and disregard my classes.
From my current hiding spot on campus, everyone seems far away. I sit in one of the basement rooms, listening to life happen all around me in the divinity school. It’s hard not to feel isolated, hard not to feel as if I don’t belong here. My brain encourages the lies, sending me waves of intrusive thoughts. “You are worthless.” “No one wants to talk to you.” “You shouldn’t be here.” “You don’t belong.”
It’s days like to today that come out and remind me that I have a mental illness.
On the other days, I feel next to normal, as if nothing is wrong, like all of my symptomatic days were just a bad dream that I’ve woken up from. Days like today remind me that I am broken, lonely, bipolar, and horrifically human.
It’s all I can do to remind myself that God can still use me.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that I don’t feel it. I really don’t, not today. Right now, I can’t understand what God’s promises are. I can’t remember who I am or why I came to Divinity School in the first place. The first signs of God’s call seem distant and long ago. Maybe I’ve run too far to receive them.
Today I thank God that His perfect will and plan don’t depend on me being perfect, or even on me having perfect mental health. My bipolar isn’t a road block to God. It’s a truth that I know, somewhere in my rational mind; a truth that my brain is having trouble accessing. But even as the deep blues of a depressive episode crash over my brain, I know it to be truth.
I can’t depend on my emotions. I can’t depend on how I feel. Some days are just going to be bad mental health days. And that’s okay. Some days I have to cling to my faith and my friends a little harder, and that is also okay.
I thank God for today, and every other day, even when it hurts, and I don’t feel like fighting my symptoms.
Loving Father,
I’m struggling today. I’m struggling to remember my worth, and that I’m loved. Sometimes, I wonder why I came to seminary, if this is even the right place for me. Today I am struggling to remember that I am yours.
I thank you that you brought me to this place, and this moment, even though I hurt right now. I thank you that you’ve brought me through moments just like this one, and that you will hold me close and remind me how much you love me.
Remind all of us who struggle with mental illness, and self doubt that we are made your image and so greatly loved. Remind us that you’ve brought us through so many of our worst moments. Remind us of our purpose.
In Your Son’s most precious name I pray,
Amen
Moody Ministry 