Choppy Waters In a Schizophrenic Sea
It’s been 7 months since my 2 week hospitalization.
I probably frightened quite a few people in that time. This possibly adds to what some might consider the “Mental Illness Stigma.” I can only pray that they forgive me for my outlandish behavior.
Though there are many types of mental illness, I have Schizophrenia. A lot of times they call these categories “… disorders.” For example- eating disorder, personality disorder, or another, anxiety disorder.
Really, aren’t they all just labels? Don’t we all have an issue or two, or twenty? One person’s “normal,” is another person’s “psychotic episode.”
With mental illness, my memory feels like it’s been sifting through sand, looking for sea glass. I’ve found many pieces. Some soft and smooth, gently worn, while others, sharp and raw-edged.
Moments of brilliance (or so I thought) led up to my last episode. Moments of terror as delusions wracked my mind, and the days got dark. Hope eluded me. I tried to find obedience, but more so, I felt adrift. I fought the barriers around me. My soul made a case against me.
After I tried to put my head through the window, I then threw myself facedown onto the floor as if God Himself were in front of me. Those being the cherries on the cake in a long line of irregular action on my part, It was too much for my husband. I went placidly along on the three and a half-hour drive to the hospital, which would be my home for the next two weeks. I just kept talking to God. (He was the big 18 wheeler we followed for most of the way as I fixated on all the tail lights.)
I have tried to rationalize, to re-assemble.
Maybe soon, I can put my thoughts into Excel, formulating them into a pie chart or graph. Or enter into QuickBooks to run a report. Something to bring order to this mental battle. I feel like a sand painting. It looks kind of one color tone from a distance, but draw close, and you can see all the different color granules that make it up. Aren’t we all so many paintings waiting to be finalized? Some portions glued down, others not. Mental wellness is for everyone, and mental illness can affect anyone.
I do recognize my condition warrants medication. (Mental health experts agree)
Because I love my husband and my family and my friends, I take them. Part of me wants to be off of them. Maybe then it won’t seem like I live in two worlds. The memories are vivid, soul searching, and hard to escape. It’s like living through aftershocks, wave upon wave, for months after. I also acknowledge the needs others have to know I am not a danger to them or myself.
I long to have every fiber of my being be for the Lord. If I must have an episode, let me glorify Him during it. If sanity, let it also be so. Or may I say, let me no longer be.
I try to stay caught up with daily Bible readings and prayer, learning Hebrew, keep up with social media, make time for my husband and the dogs, keep the house clean, make meals, write & take care of myself. Often I am not very successful. I should be able to do this with ease. It’s been 20 years since the onset of my illness. Maybe year 21 will be the breakthrough year, I mean, 3 & 7 are involved. (My two favorite numbers.)
Yes, I think I will claim this next year ahead of time as a victory year.
And I will remember the poem I wrote called What Defines Us ?
And I will cling to God’s Word with all my might & I will reach out my hand as led and I will try to be gentle to my spirit. My inner child. I will try to encourage and lift others and invest in their hopes and dreams. But above all I will trust, love and obey God my Savior.
Yes, I think I found a lovely piece of amber sea-glass. Smooth and cool in my palm. Definitely a keeper.
Waves toss and salt sprays
Looking to carry me far away.
Sun shines, all seems okay.
Mind meets matter, starts to fray.
Hoisted sail billows and sways
I fight to focus, find some praise.
“Medicate!” The Savior says.
Winds, they calm. Night? Now day.
Forgive me, Lord, for the stray.
You know my penchant to disobey.
Willfulness, please replace.
I know Your desire is to see me safe.
©Kari L. Greenaway
For more about my Mental Illness Journey: About Kari
Or check out this site to better understand those of us who suffer from it. National Alliance On Mental Illness
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