41. The thought That

When I moved back into my Dad's house, a typical day looked like this.  My dad would get up and go to work, leaving me alone in his house. I'd get up and face the pain and the fear and the physical discomfort that was with me each day and caused me to pace.  I'd call suicide prevention lines for support and to help cope with the pain.

 From the moment I got up, I'd start chain-smoking, and pacing back and forth through the house. I'd sip on a cup of coffee each time I returned to the kitchen counter like I was doing laps. I did this for hours every day while my dad was at work. The mental pain forced me to think constantly. I had no peace of mind or mental rest. 

One day while pacing through the family room I remember thinking, "this illness is a vehicle for change."  It was the first real instance of positive self-talk I had given myself since being diagnosed. It also became the cornerstone belief I built upon in the years to come. 

Today I  look at myself and my life and see how they have changed more for the better than I would have thought back then.  I believe that  I could make a significant contribution to the world of mental health in some way before I die.

 I say this because of what I've seen God and Jesus do in me. 

It's becoming a more important part of my life because of the potential good it could do in the world of mental health. My dreams include creating and establishing a foundation that can serve the healing of the mentally ill all throughout the world.  From this vantage point in my life, these things are years up the road.  But the belief that they can happen is growing more and more real all the time. 

In the depths of the hell of mental illness, a thought was planted in my mind that today is starting to bear fruit. The ratio of positive to negative thoughts back then seemed 1000 negative thoughts to one positive. I found myself cultivating negative thoughts and then apologizing to the person I cultivated them toward. 

 I was ashamed at deliberately cultivating negative thinking towards someone I loved. Through my relationship with Christ I've learned to treat my mind like a sive by removing the vile thoughts from the good. I then speak and build my life with the good. 

It is a constant process that will have no end in this life. Our minds in this life will always need constant attention to work the way they are intended to. The process of finding the good in our thinking and discarding the rest can become a habit that takes effort to maintain. 

There is scripture in Christ's gospel that addresses this part of life, that weeds, or tares (negative or bad, critical, mean, destructive, and even evil thoughts) grow in our thinking along with the good thoughts, and that they must  be sorted from the good and discarded, left to die. Part of healing a mental illness involves developing the mental strength to be able to refuse using one thought in favor of using another. 

Overcoming the pain of mental illness greatly helps develop a stronger mind, a mind with greater strength to choose sound, creative thinking and thoughts. Anyone can learn to conduct their mind in sound creative ways.

40. Finally Diagnosed

 

If not for my mother,  I don't know if I would have been diagnosed.  I would have taken longer for me to get help, and  I would have gotten into further trouble.

Just before I received my evaluation and diagnosis I spent a weekend in jail.  I was arrested for taking my clothes off in public.   I had disrobed publicly several times before being arrested.  It made me feel somehow close to God, in His presence.  I was relieved to be in jail.   I couldn't do anything else like that while I was there.  I made no effort to contact anyone to bail me out. 

On the afternoon of my arrest, there were two of us in the cell they put me in. By late evening, when they began admitting us into the main jail, the cell was packed.   I remember staying in the shower stall.  I felt safe in jail.  It felt like God went there with me.     

I was taken to the courthouse with the other inmates on the Monday after my arrest.  They had us sit in the jury box where we could look out and see everyone in the courtroom.   My dad was there.  I don't know how he found out I was in jail because I hadn't called anyone to let them know.  I remember feeling deeply moved that he was there.  I felt tremendous love from him by his presence in the courtroom.

The judge brought up my case.  I don't remember what I said,  only that it was brief.  I was told to see a psychiatrist for six months, which I did.  I was never able to talk to that psychiatrist about what I had done, or been going through.  Our visits were always a brief fifteen minutes, and the six months of seeing him didn't help anything.  I saw him after my stay in the mental hospital I was in, as well. 

After my release from jail, I rode the bus back to my dad's house with my jail ID bracelet still on my wrist.  I don't remember talking to anyone about what I had done when I got home.  A day or two after getting to my dad's house, my mom and sister came to visit.  They told me to get in the car, that we were going for a ride, and I was happy to do so. They took me to the local mental hospital. 

Once admitted, I went to the intake room.  My mom and my sister were there, and a hospital worker named Laura.  Laura closed the door and began talking to me, and asking questions. For four years my illness grew worse and worse in me, and I had never talked to anyone about it.  I hadn't known what was happening to me.  I didn't know how to reach out to anyone for help.  I started pouring everything out. I don't know how long I was there, but it was a relief to finally talk about what I'd been going through for years. 

They admitted me and told me I'd be staying there.  I remember noticing they locked the door after they let me in so I wouldn't be able to leave.  I could tell something major in my life was changing from that point on. They gave me my diagnosis and began giving me medication.  I now knew I was mentally ill.

39. You'll Be

The year after my diagnosis I was living at my father's house.  My days were full of terrible psychic pain, suicidal thoughts, and a persistent paranoia that terrified me.  On this one day, however, I was given a ray of hope. 

My Father's friend Mo was visiting. (I was working for Mo at his home when I took my clothes off and walked to a neighbors to ask for a glass of water. I was promptly arrested.)  Mo was visiting with his partner, Pam, who was an encouraging person. She saw hope and possibility in everything around her. 

In my hopeless condition, I was starved to read or hear anything positive. I had found no confirmation from any source that stated I could heal.  All I had was my own weak, but certain belief that I could, and would. No evidence to support my beliefs could be found or seemed to exist. 

On this day Pam started a cheerful conversation with me. I immediately felt better. We were talking about my chances of getting well when she said this…

"When you get this worked out you're going to be a pillar!" 

She said it with such confidence it caused something inside me to stand up straight. Part of me was drenched in hopelessness, paranoia, and fear.  But in that moment I was aware of another part of me. I felt there was something in me that could heal.  I felt I would, indeed, be a pillar. 

Her words were as real to me as the concrete under my feet, and I clung to them. I never forgot what she said. After all these years, and everything I've been through in God's iron regimen that is my life, I believe He is using me as a pillar. My spirit has that kind of substance and strength.  It has those qualities because of Him. 

Pam's words still live in me today. They're as vivid  as the day she spoke them. They're set in me with permanence in the same way a child places their hand and footprints in a slab of wet concrete. They have marked me forever.

38. Your Therapist

 

Your therapist wants to know if you believe you can heal your mental illness.  Before they take you on as a new patient, a good therapist will make sure you believe you can heal. Without that belief, he or she may be powerless to help you. 

Christ taught that as we believe so it is done unto us. We can heal if we believe, and follow through with the mental and physical effort needed for the work that must be done.   The healing of your life and mind can resemble Job's life in the bible. We live a good life.   We lose that life to our illness.  And sometime later (different time frames for different people) we are restored. 

God gave us Job's life and story to encourage us.  God works the same way in our lives that He did in Job's.  Just the illness is different. It's worth noting that this restoration takes work on our part.  Our mind heals and becomes sound through the work. 

Jesus often required some small act of faith, like stretching out a hand, or getting up to walk, from those he healed.  In cases like ours, all he requires is a simple relationship with Him. He requires us to create the life we want.  As we do that, His healing forces work in our favor.   Over time, he brings about our healing, and we create the life we want to live.