Caffeine, Jesus, and Pontification

Welcome to the New Year. Was it good for you, too?
We spent New Year’s Eve laughing, eating, and playing Apples To Apples. (We also played an ill-fated round of Trivial Pursuit: Pop Culture Edition, but we won’t talk about that…) We rang in 2009 with sparkling apple cider and some intense prayer. We prayed a hedge of protection around my 17-year-old nephew, who is going into the Navy this summer, and my troubled 15-year-old niece, as well as Scott, whom you regular readers know has a number of health struggles.

I would say that Christmas 2008 was the best Christmas we ever had. Due to my employment status (or lack thereof) we spent a good 2 months worrying about not having enough money for Christmas, but, in the end, money and presents had almost nothing to do with it. Knowing that this was my nephew’s last Christmas before going into the military made it extra special, and the fact that we got to pray over him with so much intensity was a blessing. The kids have a psycho mother (diagnosed as such), and a recovering drug addict for a father. In a sense, we helped raise them. I know it sounds melodramatic, but we’re seriously going through some empty nest syndrome. We’ve had the kids every Christmas since we got married. The idea of one of them being far away is a little much for us to take in. Sometimes reality sucks.

The fog of bipolar appears to be clearing, at least for now, and for that I am grateful. The “friend situation” and the beauty of the holidays forced me to look around and see that I am lucky…fortunate…blessed to have friends that call me to the carpet when I misbehave. Nothing sucks like getting caught in sin, but… as Pastor Doug used to say, “Sometimes it’s good to get caught.” (And sometimes, I think, “What does he know?” But I gotta admit, he’s much wiser than I am.) I have a lot of friends, which is a major switch from how I grew up. I think I had two friends, maybe. To have a GROUP of people to choose from blows my mind. It’s a good thing. God is good.

I don’t really have any New Year resolutions, they’re more like life resolutions. Lose weight, have some breast reduction surgery (not kidding!), write another book or two or twelve, decide on a hair color, strengthen my faith, think of Jesus as soon as I pop out of bed, that sort of thing. You know…learn how to be a good friend, a devoted wife, content wherever I am, and thankful for everything I’ve got whether big or small.
Hmph. I’m not sure I could accomplish all of that in a year.

I always liked the line that Morgan Freeman (a.k.a “God”) said in the movie “Bruce Almighty”: “No matter how dirty something gets, you can always clean it right up.”
Well, Jesus can.

Here’s to a deep cleaning in 2009.

It’s 12:23 a.m. and I’m blogging, even though I have to be at work at 8 a.m., and it takes me 40 minutes to get there.
I had some sort of stomach bug today, or maybe food poisoning, I don’t know which.  I came home from work and slept for 3 hours and now I’m wide awake.

The friend situation appears to be over with.  She said her peace, I babbled mine.  We’re still friends… whatever that means.  I am not good at being friends, apparently.

I am just not good at it.  I’d like to get better.

For now, I’ll settle for getting through the next two days.

I don’t trust people.  There, I said it.
The internationally-known preachers and teachers you see speaking God’s Word on television only make me more cynical.  Being a cynical Christian is not a good thing.  Something in me always assumes that people are up to something.  I struggle mightily to work through that in my friendships, because it is an underlying question that haunts me every step of the way.

I know I blog about rather personal things, but rarely do I give details.  I don’t usually let people in.  It takes a lot of time and soul searching for me to reveal my true struggles (and triumphs) with the people in my life.  So, when I let someone in, and they push me back out…it’s like moving to a new town in a new state in a new country after spending your entire life in one place - it’s new terrain, and even the familiar things seem suspect.

When I was a senior in college, I had a very close friendship with a woman named Lori.  We had been friends for several years, but that year everything went sour.  We had a major falling-out, and my friend, in her hurt and anger, set about ruining my life.  She lived near my college in Nashville, and I had been very excited about being able to spend more time with her, but our friendship bit the dust before that was possible.  I spent my first semester of college in a deep depression, drinking myself into a stupor, feeling like my best friend had just died and there was no hope or chance of any closure.  It took a very long time for me to move past that, mourn my loss, and continue on with my life.

After that, I promised I would never let anyone hurt me again.  And while this was a self-protective measure, it back-fired in many ways.  At the first hint of any perceived slight by a friend, I closed myself up, pushed them away, and the mourning in my process began in my heart all over again.  It played over and over like a painful rerun.  No matter how real or how imagined the slight was, it absolutely destroyed me.  I understand why people live like hermits.

So here we are again.  I let someone in, they’ve decided to push me out - not entirely, but enough to make me feel dead inside - and I’m done.  I’d run to God for comfort and hope, but the problem is, I don’t really trust Him, either.

I don’t even trust my God.  Trusting and wanting to trust are two different things.

I’m very bad at living life.  Ever watch “Celebrity Rehab”?  They all say they don’t know how to live life, and that’s why they’re addicts.  I can relate so much to that.  I stand back and look at my life, and I see where I’ve pushed people to the edge, forcing them to edge me out of their lives, and I know it’s my fault, but it doesn’t stop the pain of rejection.

If I let you in, it’s because you are one of the rare people I trust.  If you tell me “we can’t go there” - for whatever reason - you have essentially taken my trust in you and thrown it back in my face.  I don’t care what the reasons are.  I’m not going to go there again.

I’m not going to let anyone hurt me that way again.  Ever.

It’s great to have good friends to hold you accountable in life.  The only thing is, sometimes it really sucks.

I’ve spent a good part of my life riding a spiritual rollercoaster.  Maybe it comes with being bipolar.  I’m pretty sure it plays some sort of roll in the whole mess.  Recently, I’ve been on the downhill stretch, and it has not been a fun ride.

Somewhere along the way, somehow, I concluded that the state of things - the pain and struggles in my life - were never going to change.  I also convinced myself that life was easier lived without God.  I began to see life as a rule book, and I didn’t like the rules.  I especially didn’t like the Authority.  So I walked away.

No, I didn’t kill anyone or rob any liquor stores, but I certainly fell away.  Now, falling away is something I’m very good at.  I’ve done it several dozen times since asking Jesus into my life.  But I have to admit, this was bad…even for me.  Close, trusted friends know the gory details.  I’ll leave the rest to your creative imaginations.

I sort of feel like I’m at the bottom of an incredibly deep well, and I can kind of see the light, but I don’t know how to reach it.  The climb seems exhausting, and I haven’t even tried yet.

The thing that really scares me is that I don’t think I’ve reached the bottom yet.  I’m getting scared, but that sense of desperation isn’t there.  I need to act BEFORE it gets that far.

Time to grow up.

Hello readers… that is, if I still have any.

I know it has been a long time since I wrote.  To be honest, I just haven’t had the desire.  I had a speaking gig the first week of October, and for some reason after that, I totally burned out.  I’ve decided to try and get back in the swing of things.

I am still working as a proofreader and, more recently, I’ve started working as a grocery store cashier.  Believe it or not, I like cashiering better than I ever liked being a data entry clerk.

I know this is a very short blog, but I promise there will be more coming.  Just wanted to let all of you know that I’m still alive, and writing.

The fog has lifted and the depression has parted, and I am now walking between the waves and functioning like a normal human being should.  I got so much work for Shaunti done today.  I had creativity, as well.

I made the executive decision to go off Zyprexa and back on Seroquel.  My depression had spiraled out of control while I was on Zyprexa.  Some days I would get up in the morning, plop myself down in my favorite chair and just stare off into space.  No motivation, no creativity, no nothing.  Just trying to figure out why I’m alive and what my purpose is here.

I hope I feel this good for my speaking gig on Friday.

Last Sunday they had a healing service at church.  Scott and I went forward for healing.  I went up for my diabetes, specifically, but I told God to heal anything He wanted.  Now, I’m a terrible over-eater.  I’m hungry a lot of the time, and I am an emotional eater.  I am nervous as all heck about Friday, and normally I’d be pigging out.  But ever since Sunday, I have had very little appetite.  I feel good - I don’t feel like I’m sick, but the desire to eat constantly has simply vanished.  I even tried to eat when I wasn’t hungry (a litmus test for God’s healing, I suppose) and I couldn’t eat.  Maybe this is how God wants to heal me of my diabetes - by helping me to eating more healthfully.

I’m not going to question this to death, I’m going to accept it and claim it as God’s hand on my life.