Finally, a new year. And with it, new life. Finally.
2010 was the most difficult year I've ever faced, by far. It was one thing after another, after another, including, but not limited to: no less than 3 job changes, 3 moves, loss of 2 cats, a recording project thrown into limbo, major reconstructive surgery on my leg, and 8 weeks of bedrest to recover. Those are just the highlights.
After Thanksgiving, I hit a point where there was too much on my plate and I needed to take some serious steps. On November 29, I was admitted to Vanderbilt Psychiatric Hospital for severe depression. I spent five days there working with an amazing doctor who diagnosed me as bipolar. With the new diagnosis came new medicine, and with the new medicine came a new world for me. Bridges were built in my brain between the things that I know to be true and the ability to actually believe them. There aren't words that can accurately describe how different I feel. As cliche as it sounds, I feel like I'm finally a whole person, instead of just a shadow of myself.
I realize I've just invited a vast amount of criticism with that last paragraph. Some of you will be put off by the fact that I was in the hospital. Others of you may not believe that medicine can help a person the way it has for me. I'm well aware of the stigma our society places on such things. I ask only that you keep an open mind. Feel free to ask me questions; I invite your inquiry. I dare say if you talk to me now, you'll see the difference.
For sure, it's not only the medicine that is changing me. I fully and quickly acknowledge that. But, it has put me in a state of mind where I can handle doing what it takes to change. I'm learning how to feel things instead of stuffing them away. How to face my fears and learn from them, instead of run from them. How to trust that God has my best interest at heart. At 26, for the first time in my life, I can finally believe that God loves me and wants to do great things in my life. He's not holding out on me; He really is always working for my best. These are things I've always known, but not until these last couple months have I been able to really grasp them and own them for myself.
I have a sense of confidence and calm now that I've never had before. Panic and fear don't linger on the edges of my mind like they used to. There's a sense of wholeness, of wellness, in me. I'm able to trust God and find refuge in Him in ways I never could have understood before.
It's difficult for me to share this with all of you. I'm putting some pretty personal things out here on the internet for anyone to see, knowing some of you will likely have negative reactions to it. If you wonder why I'm still doing it, here's the answer: hope. While I was struggling with all of this, a friend who had also dealt with the same things came alongside me. Without that person's support and encouragement, I likely would not have taken the steps that I needed to get well. His story of recovery offered me hope. Now I, in turn, share my story in the name of that same hope. There's Light in the darkness. New mercies with every dawn. There is no situation beyond God's reach. Every person, every circumstance, even the bleakest, is never beyond the reach of His redemption and grace. May I ever be living proof of this greatest of revelations.
