When you live with mental illness, it can often feel like there's no hope left. I know for me, I've been really feeling that way for nearly the past three months. My world seems to be crashing down. I feel like every little bit I hold onto, it slips out of my hands. Like I'm drowning, gasping for air, but more water is filling my lungs. I beg God to rescue me, yet at the same time I keep saying, "Your will be done." I try to remind myself no matter what, God wants what's best for me and isn't going to just reject me. He's not going to forget about me. No matter what pain I may be having to endure, He's going to be there with me. I'm nowhere near perfect with this though. When you have paranoia, it's difficult, to say the least, to remember that God has your best interest. Our best interest may not be what we think is best for us, but He knows what's best for us more than we do - He created us after all! Though, I'm starting to think, maybe it doesn't matter what's in my best interest. Maybe, what matters is what's in HIS best interest. By this I mean what if it doesn't matter so much what's best for me, what will help me, or what will protect me. What if what really matters is the glory we bring Him? What if what really matters is serving Him, rather than serving ourselves? I know, you may be thinking, "Isn't that what you say already? Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" It is. I often say I want to serve God. I try my best to serve God (I'm nowhere near perfect at it). I'm starting to wonder though, what if my words say I serve God, but my actions say otherwise? It's not easy for a mentally healthy person, it's DEFINITELY not easy for a mentally sick person. For so much of my life I've focused on protecting myself, yet where has that gotten me? Am I more protected now than I was before?
Last night, I got my eight month chip at Celebrate Recovery for not cutting. I've got to say, this was my hardest one to get. With everything that has been going on, I honestly started to think I didn't even care about getting the chip anymore. I just wanted some relief. I had a couple of really close calls. My husband had to stop me. God-willing though, I managed to be able to get it. So much hope has been lost in me. I'm trying so hard to fight this lifelong battle, but it often feels like a losing fight. I don't really feel like I'm living anymore, just existing. I know with my own strength, I will not win this fight. With the help from others, and especially with the help from God, I can do this. There is hope for the morning. Every day may seem like the same miserable day, but every morning is a new sunrise, and every sunrise promises a new chance - a new beginning.
(Youll see what Im saying if you read further.) Have you ever heard of phantom limb pain? So a person's, say, right arm is gone, but still they feel as if it was in pain. This kind of pain can't be treated that will with painkillers. But there is a treatment with some efficacy. This is it: one gets a box into which they invert their good arm. Their is a mirror In the middle so it looks as of they have both hands. They then clench both. Which the right hand is gone, signals are can't to the nerves that are left as if the arm were there. Then after a while they let go. The mirror helps them ease the pain somehow.
ReplyDeleteI wonder if there is a possible parallel with your case. And here is a suggestion. Consider me. I have OCD, not severe right now, but I've had it for about 6 years, and two times for about eight months it really dominated my life, and even when it doesn't it could. Fortunately, I only am washing my hands a bit more than usual.
But let someone the odd obsessions I've had be a mirror to the thoughts that hound you. Specifically, you might recognize the ridiculousness of your thoughts in the ridiculousness of my thoughts. So I'll give two examples. One thing that I was hung up on was worrying that some thing I think I saw out of the corner of my eye was some person who was hurt and might die if I didn't help. Other times it was that sound might perhaps could be maybe someone screaming who would die if I didn't find them and help. One more than a few occasions I would be sucked into a loop for several hours. One time I spent five jours on just one such obssession.
It was ridiculous. I heard something for only a second or so, it wasn't obviously a scream. It was midnight, so what are the odds some guy is just passing through the neighborhood and some other guy happens to meet him and try to kill him. Why doesn't he scream longe r if it is a real person I heard and not my imagination. I could go on.
DeleteNow, I wasn't ridiculous. It was the thought which by some defect or other in the structure of my brain (some defect in the matter that rendered its being informed by my soul, for all you Thomists out there). The thought was ridiculous, of course, but sometimes there are people who get mugged and might die because of that at night. It had some, however tenous semblance to reality. Perhaps your thoughts, of fear of abandonment, for example, are like that. Sometimes we are hurt by others, and not just hurt but are betrayed. I'm not sure if that happened to you, if so, that shows my point there is some semblance to reality in your present worries. But, the semblance might not be as strong as you fear, in fact, it certainly isn't to people like your husband Nick.
Anyway, I think this kind of approach helped me. I had other people, including several friends and family who I finally told about my OCD. Partly I was having other reinforce what I already knew: your thought process has gone wrong. Indeed, it wasn't that I so much though these things were true, but I sure felt anxiety ad if I would somehow be guilty of murder, it felt real.
Also, reflecting on old OCD obsessions from when it first manifested itself between junior high and high school helped. See most of the obsessioons I had then I didn't have this last time around. One of those was a fear that when I ate, I would somehow be worshipping Satan. If that doesn't sound ridiculous, I don't know what does.
I recalled that pagans ate sacrifices to their false gods, and feared that if I recalled that when I ate, I would imagine myself doing that, and this somehow is worshiping demons. It felt real enough. I didn't starve of course, but it was getting hard to eat, and I lost some weight. I wasn't anorexic or anything, but it wasn't an insignificant amount. Even this last time around, I could see how ridiculous that was, and say, 'wait this time is like this, only in different clothing.' It didn't immediately make me feel better, but it helped me get some control back. Maybe you can try this out and get some help this way.
Glad you got the chip, and keep getting those. I will pray that you do.
Take care,
Sean