I can’t even tell you what I face now. In the wake of my recent family struggles, all the drama with friends, difficulty in setting realistic goals, I picked up a book today called “Lord Help Me Change,” and I literally laughed, scoffed and then got so angry I fought furiously in complete opposition of what a “Pure, Good Believer in the Eyes of God,” is supposed to be. (Or what I think it is supposed to be, according to what I have heard about Sin and all that jazz).
I took my drugs tonight, like a good bipolar patient, and couldn’t seem to find rest or peace because my mind just REFUSES to give me that simple necessity. I was angry. SO ANGRY at the fact that reading the pages of the amazing book The Captain’s mom sent me, (from a wonderful minister in Chicago), made me feel absolutely nothing but mistrust and absolute disdain as I laid there in bed. I had been granted with a miracle, escaped the clutches of psychosis, and STILL, I don’t believe. You know, I can’t. I just can’t. Not after all I have seen and done – the pills, the doctors, the mental hospitals, all the alternate realities, and the full on madness of my mind.
I struggle with finding God, I do, because the countless times I have heard His Voice, SO LOUD AND CLEAR IN MY HEAD, the times I heard Jesus himself, the times The Hand of The Almighty reached out to mine, I found myself on the floor of a psych ward, begging the nurses and doctors not to pump me up with countlesss drugs. I can’t, I can’t do this. I am faced with the bitter reality that the safety net I thought I could enjoy for the next few years is slowly being ripped from right underneath me, with me powerless to stop it.
I wanted to turn to God. I wanted my pills to work. I wanted my blog to reach more people. But like everything in life, my words fall on deaf ears, no one hears my call, no one sees me, and I suffer alone and angry at myself that I am nothing but a selfish, spoiled brat. I have been hiding behind being bipolar way too damn long. People suffer with this illness you know, most even fight the battle totally untreated, but they pull it together, go to work, provide for their families and they MAKE it through life. What is my excuse??
And can someone please tell me WHY the preacher who hears the voice of Jesus, and sings loudly in joy and excitement at the “Word of the Almighty Lord, Hallelujah!!!’ Why he doesn’t get locked up in a psych ward for hearing voices? Isn’t the voice of Jesus a voice?? Go ahead, call me a sinner, a blasphemous harlot, I don’t even care. I am angry tonight. I am angry at the fact that I can’t pray without thinking its a damn joke because of what the doctors called my epiphanies, and then in turn drugged me up with medication. Where do I fit in the grand scheme of things? Why is it, that if I were to scream “I hear the voice of Jesus, let’s all rejoice!” outside of a church, I will be locked up in mental institution?
In the face of ALL of this, I still refuse to become an atheist. Despite EVERY logical thing I have learned, EVERY fact that has been presented to me, ALL the drugs that are in my system, I BELIEVE. I laughed in God’s face you know, and yet I know he STILL loves me. I am a fool in the biggest prank ever made, but I was robbed of my rest tonight to reach you out there. You, the person who is reading this post right now. In regards to me screaming that I hear Jesus in my mind outside of the walls of a church, I will simply say this:
Jesus said… the Kingdom of God is inside you, and all around you, not in mansions of wood and stone. Split a piece of wood… and I am there, lift a stone… and you will find me.
So yeah, that’s what I believe, even though that quote is COMPLETELY discredited as being heresay, but that’s what keeps me going. In the face of mental illness, in the face of the horrible stigma placed upon us, in the face of the all the judgmental fingers being pointed at us around the world in the wake of the latest school shooting, that’s what keeps me going.
I am going to pop a Melatonin pill on top of all this damn Seroquel I am on to try to rest tonight.
And I am going to say a prayer as I fall into slumber, scoffing, refusing to believe in God, but at the same time completely, and utterly believing in Him anyway.