Wait. What? God?

God, Depression, Prayer, Anxiety, The Good Book and Suicide. Yep, all sorts of words that can cause one to be quite uncomfortable or feel quite awkward. If you're feeling like you don't want to read on, I respect that, but you know I have to double dog dare you!

I talk to God. Now this has looked and sounded differently over the years. You see, my mom is a prayer say'n person and she taught all of her kids how to pray. And being that I was one of those kids I learned how to pray. My dad would have taught us how to pray as well, but he went to be with God when I was young. As a kid, the only time I really talked to God was when I was scared, needed help really bad or even now and then I would tell him sorry for some of the crazy mistakes I made and truthfully that did not change much until I was a teenager. It's kind of funny how when life got a bit more heavy for me I found myself talking to God a lot more.

Going to church I was taught that I could talk to God anytime. My mom taught me that it was a good thing to kneel down to pray or if you couldn't kneel to at least bow your head and fold your arms. Putting these two together kind of felt a bit restricting at first. I found that there were more times than not that I was talking to God when I couldn't kneel or fold my arms and bow my head. Let's say for example during the times I was chased by dogs while doing my paper route. I can't think of any happy outcomes if I would have knelt then. It's kind of interesting though how when you talk to someone more and more how you become comfortable with it, heck even like it.

One of my favorite things I learned when I was starting to talk to God, was when life was just awful for whatever reason, I always felt good after talking with Him. Heck, I would even open the good book and read because that is what I learned at church. I sure didn't understand most of what I was reading at first, but I tried. Over the years and even to adulthood the equation was quite simple when the dark clouds of life hung low. I would pray and open up the good book. When I felt I wasn't quite right with God because of how I was living my life and that awful feeling that came with it, I could always talk to God and feel good afterwards.

You see, lately I have had something on my heart that has been worrying me. I have been fighting mental illness now for eight plus years and am only starting to understand a very crucial point. Before I go there though I need to visit some dark times. Here we go.

When I began having all sorts of dark feelings and suicidal thoughts, I had not a clue what was going on. This was before talking with the guy that had the comfortable couch and before visiting the guy that could give me meds. I remembering when I  first began to feel those dark feelings I began to really search why I was feeling them. The closest thing that I could compare it to was the bad feeling I had felt in the past when I wasn't right with God ... yep the "g" word; guilt. I couldn't remember anything that I had done wrong, but I must have done something because I was feeling so badly. So, I put my trusty equation to use and talked to God about it and even opened the good book ready to fill the flood of relief. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I remember one time even kneeling down, which would have made my mom proud, talking with God and telling him how much I hated feeling like this and asked why he wouldn't help me like he had in the past. Nothing. I thought maybe he was waiting for me to read more of the good book to show him just how serious I was, so I did. Nothing. This went on for months and sadly years. One can get quite tired and worn out after trying to talk to God all those times and feeling nothing. It wasn't like I didn't believe in him any more. I had too many experiences with talking with him in the past that I knew he was there, but I just couldn't figure out why he stopped talking back. After a while I began to feel that I just wasn't important enough anymore or even good enough.

I did end up visiting with a Psychologist and still do and yes he does have a comfortable couch. I ended up talking to a Psychiatrist and began taking meds and still do. Still no God. I wanted to stick it to the man of stigma so I went public with my mental illness opening up the vulnerability doors wide open. I received advice from someone that I just needed to pray more and read the good book more. I wanted to talk to God more, but I was beaten down from not feeling anything anymore. That kind of advice actually made things far worse than better. How could that be though? My whole life that equation worked and it was still taught over and over. I was simply shrinking into nothing because the more that time passed that I didn't feel anything from God, it was telling me how much I really wasn't worth anything anymore. And if I'm not worth anything anymore, what good am I to my family? And if I'm not worth anything to my family making things worse, why am I still alive? I fought that reasoning for years.

When a person is literally hanging on to survival by the hour at times, you can only imagine the damage that comes when you hear people say you just need to get over it. OR ... mental illness is just something made up in your head. OR ... only the weak are mentally ill. OR ... if you were just more righteous you wouldn't have to deal with just being blue. OR ... you just have forgotten who you are. OR ... you just need to keep busy. The one that I fought and still fight the most comes down to the principle of self-reliance. This is something that is taught in the church I go to, which I totally agree with ... when you are healthy enough to do so. Yes, my employ came to an end as I began to work through this. But you can only imagine the pain I felt hearing over and over how important it is to provide for your family, when you are trying to figure out how to make it through the day alive. Why go to church and be reminded of how badly I am doing for my family? Like I said, dark times.

Now to what has been on my heart. I fear that too many people are going through what I have gone through and aren't getting any help being left in a dark place. I fear that too many people aren't getting or try to learn of how to help those good people left in a dark place. I fear that people feel that God has given up on them. I fear that people haven't felt love for far too long. I fear that people are scared to take that step of getting help because of the stigma out there. I fear for those people that think that the world is better off without them. I am just starting to see and understand that even though I did not feel close to God in all this, that did not mean he was not involved in my life. I have no idea why mental illness feels like it closes the windows to heaven, but I can tell you the work from heaven never stops for you.