Monday, September 6, 2010

What We Don't Talk About

A tough part about living with anxiety/depression is the toll it can take on loved ones and one’s relationships. It’s an ugly circumstance. It’s the main reason why I keep people at a distance. It’s a big part of why I’ve sabotaged possibilities and kept mostly single. It’s a huge factor in why I’ve held back in God’s call on me, why I don’t want to do any ministry alone.

So… this past weekend, I hit a rough spot. I took down most of the pictures. They reminded me of “happier” times. They reminded me that I don’t really have anyone I can… reach out to in my time of need. The pictures still up are of Apple and Crusty because I know they love me.

It’s not that people wouldn’t lift me up if they had known that’s what I would need. It’s more that… how can I ask so much of someone? It can be very ugly and scary to face; what I’ve written in this journal is barely half of it. I suppose I only write about it here because it’s a record of my having existed without really burdening others, maybe someday it will be something that helps one other person, I don’t know.

I don’t want to be the person that brings people down. I want to bring people up. This doesn’t bring people up. Part of the fight is that this condition has an effect on how much I think I can do for others; I’m fighting to be able to be a strong positive force for others. A friend says it’s possible that I could be mildly bipolar. This fight could last my lifetime, I’ve been suspecting so.

And sometimes I need more lifting up than Apple or Trace can do from thousands of miles away. My group is scattered and taking care of their families. I haven’t found a new group to rally around me in care. Sometimes all it would take is a hug or distraction moments or spending time with someone of whom I’m assured of their love for me… but how can I ask it? And how can I ask it when I haven’t done much for them?

It’s hard. It’s not something I really want others to know about. A few lines of Jem’s “You Will Make It” helps to describe what it can be like: Helping hands but you push them away/How could they understand/ don’t wanna share your pain. Several times already, I’ve heard people say things about someone else being emo, and I know they didn’t mean harm by what they were saying, yet I cringe a little when I hear such things [why I generally avoid gossip].

A good sign though is that in this recent… bout, I took steps to reach out to a friend I adore. I figured this friend always makes me feel valued, always makes me smile and I wouldn’t have to talk about anything real. And besides, I haven’t seen much of Friend this entire year. *Sigh. Friend didn’t pick up, I left a message, but by the time Friend called back, I was… gone.

*Sigh. This past year has been so rough.

Don’t misunderstand. In a strange, twisted way, continuing to survive these dark moments has been a testament to myself that God is real and that he loves me. This is the reason why I’ll say that I’ve always sensed that God exists, because I’ve lived with this thing as long and as young as I can remember. If I had not sensed his presence from the beginning, I don’t know that I would still be here. If God is a hoax, a figment of the imagination, if there isn’t an entity bigger than all of us and of complete goodness, then I really don’t have a reason for why I am still here. Through this, God has formed in me a huge love for others. It’s helped me understand how he is all I need but that he also didn’t form me to live in a vacuum.

I am not saying that those who “didn’t make it” could have been saved by a faith in God, that if only they had believed…. This is part of my story. I’ve had two good friends of faith who didn’t make it and I can’t speak intelligently about why that happened. I miss my friends.

If I don't make it, it will not have been my faith or my God that failed me.

So I don’t know what I’m going to do about the next time I need someone.

Hmmm…the end.

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