Monday 24 June 2019

Tightrope Walking

I must confess, I have never ever walked a tightrope. I could walk along a balance beam when I was younger but that was enough. My balance is definitely not what it used to be either! My fear is not of heights, it is of falling. I don't mind how high up I am, but I do mind how safe I am and what the potential is for fallling.

While I have never walked a tightrope, I feel like a lot of my life is finely balanced and if I were to wobble and lose that balance, everything will spiral down. For a while I would say I'd fall and it could go either way I'd either fall in to the depths or I'd fall on the other side and be ok. Maybe more like wandering along a cliff edge in a storm- will I be able to stand my ground or will I fall to my death? As I started writing this post today, I realised something. Until now, not once have I ever considered that there's the option of staying on the tightrope; wobbling but regaining balance and continuing the walk until I get to safety.  Until now I have not once considered that I don't have to fall.

Does this mean I am miraculously better and from now on will only focus on getting to the end and refuse to admit that falling is a possibility? It does not. But it has given me another option.

Years ago I came across the quote "What if I fall? but my darling, what if you fly?" It so simply describes my fear- flying has never been an option before. More recently I learnt that it's actually part of a longer quote. And now, nearly half way through this year, it's become even more relevant. The day of my breakdown at the start of May, a friend posed the question to the youth group "What would you do if you could not fail?" 7 weeks ago, I didn't dare answer although I knew exactly what my answer was. Now? The answer is: live truly free.

This is the whole quote, by Erin Hanson. I'll leave this with you.

“There is freedom waiting for you,
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask "What if I fall?"
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?” 

Monday 10 June 2019

Brain emptying...

Hey blog,

It's been a while. Quite a while in fact. This year is zooming past faster than I care to admit. I'm once again back in that recovery zone: the one where you miss days because your brain isn't there; where tracking days is sometimes too painful because of all the wasted hours; the one where days seem endless because you just wish breathing wasn't essential. These past few months have been a visit back to the hell that is depression. Not the kind of depression I can push to one side and keep going, because I've learnt to live with that. This depression is the one where darkness descends and the world is too big and too small simultaeneously and you just want to step off the edge of the planet and cease to exist. It's been a battle that has left me exhausted. Now, don't get me wrong, I live with depression every single day and have done for over half my life but this episode is a rare occurence. 4 years ago, everything fell apart and I didn't think I could possibly carry on. Somehow I did and with the odd bad period but nothing as significant as that breakdown. Until now.

Since the end of January my mood began to drop, slowly at first then all at once. I spent days with my head screaming at me that nothing is important and to give up and stop living. I held it at bay, sought help, dropped some of my work load but nothing really changed. Then March came and so did the instruction that I was absolutely not allowed to be alone at any time. I was embraced in to the family life of a friend for three weeks and things were brighter, not quite there but enough to be ok again and take care of myself. The school holidays came and went and I was doing good, until I felt the sudden drop in my very core- the one that means "it is not going to go well from here". That dread, I couldn't shake it, so I phoned for help and sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. And then pulled myself out of my bed and went back to work. And there I sobbed at a friend. And then I pulled myself together and did exactly what I needed to do. I got hugs as I left. I made one throw-away comment and that's the last thing I really remember with clarity. Somehow I took myself home, via a supermarket, bought food and flowers, tidied my house and sat down and waited for the right moment. And as I sat there, completely numb to the entire world and sobbing because I was so exhausted, my phone began to ring. I don't know why I answered the phone, but I did. And that phone call saved my life.

That long weekend was a blur. It involved being picked up by my boss, sobbing for hours, a million phone calls and visits from the community team, the word "section" being mentioning more than once, spending a day in bed staring in to space, an assessment for inpatient, a referral to day hospital, medication increases, sleeping tablets, plastering a smile on my face for church and a friend's wedding, being signed off sick.

The four weeks that followed involved time with friends, sleep, baking, gardening, a failed stint at day hospital, so many appointments, more time with friends and rest. And somehow, just over one month later, I am sat here back at work, with a clear mind and renewed resilience. My head is so much clearer now- I can follow conversation, be around lots of people, get work done properly, appreciate everyone arounnd me. There are so many positives but there's one thing no-one mentions in recovery from mental illness. Exhaustion.

My whole body hurts with the effort it takes to get up and dressed every morning. If I don't have to be up and somewhere, I end up napping mid-morning. By 6pm I struggle to stay awake. This is the hardest part because when my brain was at a reduced speed, my body didn't mind- everything slowed together, but regaining stamina? Mentally I'm there, physically I feel about 6 months behind. Despite being active while I was off, my fitness has significantly decreased. Walking is draining. My face hurts with the effort to keep my eyes open sometimes. The frustration at physical exhaustion is the least pleasant part. My brain cannot work out why my body is not back up to speed; why it hasn't bounced back in the same way. I know I will get there and eventually I'll be back at full capacity but patience with myself isn't my strong point. I'm learning, once again, that I have to take it slow, baby steps, balancing life with recovery, prioritising my health over others. It's tiring and a challenge and I know this battle isn't won yet. I'm thankful, that despite everything, my faith hasn't been completely shaken. I know God is sustaining me. I know He is with me. I know He is sufficient. I know He loves me, even when I feel worthless. I know God is good. Always. 



Sunday 30 December 2018

2018 to 2019...

Another year has absolutely flown past. I feel like I've blinked and we've gone from Jauary to December! How has this happened? 2018 hasn't been my favourite year; we lost my grandad in March and life shifted a bit then. I moved house in May which lead to a very stressful and overwhelming seven months before moving again 10 days before Christmas. My tortoise-baby died in October but I got a new tortoise for Christmas. Very excited to have Orli join me in my new little house. Mental-health wise I've had the best year I've had in over a decade, but when I've hit lows, I've hit them bad. I've gained new friends and sisters-in-Christ that I never realised I needed. I've house-sat and puppy-sat and made new dog friends- obviously a highlight! One of my long-time online friends came to stay, I hosted Christmas and I've been to Exeter and Spain. So many things and I'm certain I've forgotten things.

My goal for 2019 is to blog fortnightly. I've missed the enjoyment and catharsis of writing and reflecting on life. I ended up holding on to far too much over summer and probably should have just written it all out. Oh well, we live and learn right?

And what of my word for 2018? Stay. In home group last month we talked about how sometimes God drip feeds us things rather than bing blunt when we're in a situation. And that is exactly how my year has been. Every time I've wanted to run, to get away from whatever is hard, or confusing, or challenging, or simply something I don't want to do, there's been a gentle whisper in my mind stay, we're not done yet. You said you'd stay. I'm not going to lie and tell you every time I was calmed by this- more than once I got frustrated "but God. I am DONE! I don't want to stay. I want to run away and restart and forget all of this" but something kept me here and my goodness am I glad I have stayed.

Looking ahead? My word for 2019 is, as usual, absolutely terrifying for me. But it wouldn't be my word if it was nice and easy, would it? And so, I shall embrace it.

In 2015, I learnt God is safe
In 2016, I learnt to be brave
In 2017, I learnt God speaks
In 2018, I stayed even when it got hard.
In 2019, I'm learning to live free

That's my word for 2019: free

Let's see what adventures God has in store this year.

Let me be clear- the Anointed One has set us free- not partially but completely and wonderfully free! We must always cherish this truth and stubbornly refuse to go back into the bondage of our past. 
-Galatian 5:1 (The Passion Translation)

Friday 6 July 2018

5 Year Plan

A couple of months ago at work we were chatting with someone the church is supporting about 5 year plans. This got me thinking "do I have a 5 year plan"? The answer is "nope!" and then I realised something. It's been 5 years.

5 years ago, on this day, I decided I'd had enough of life. And not just in an "oh man, I need to get a grip and do something better" way, in a "leaving this world will be the best thing I can do right now". 5 years ago I had no future plans because I was done.

In case it isn't obvious, I didn't succeed. At the last moment I freaked out. The doctors told me that I was lucky. I didn't feel it. I told God that if I survived I knew it was for a reason. At that point I didn't even really believe in God but figured a bit of bargaining wouldn't hurt. I had literally nothing to lose. I thought removing myself would make everyone else's lives better again. I was a burden, a failure, hopeless, done. I had no desire to see my birthday 3 days later. Ironically, it was because of my birthday that I was discharged from hospital.

5 years ago, I couldn't speak to people I didn't know. I ran a mile from a ringing phone. My life was just about me, disappearing. My world was counting calories and exercising and dreaming of the day I could stop existing. I was a shell of a person. I may have been breathing but there was no life in me.

I didn't have a 5 year plan for my life on 6th July 2013, but God did.

4 years ago, I still didn't have a plan for life
3 years ago, I was surviving
2 years ago, the future seemed less scary
1 year ago, life was on the up

Today I can look back and see exactly how God has carried me through 5 years.The constant people out in my life, those who have entered and not left, those who have left. Over the 5 years I have become more "me". I've learnt my purpose, I feel like I've found my place for right now and I'd have a whole lot to lose. I've worked hard to get where I am today. If I had known 5 years ago who I'd be now, I would have laughed so hard. I had no idea that I'd go to church, meet God in the darkest moment, accept Jesus as my Saviour and work for a church. I had no idea I'd not only work for a church, but I'd work with children and tell them all about Jesus.

I never ever believed I could be happy and yet here I am. Bouncing about because it's nearly my birthday. My boss asked me the other week what my ideal birthday would be and it's so simple. It's the things that have kept me going: people who love me as I am, being outdoors (it's a great reminder of Creation) and cake (yup, cake is that important!). I spent so long believing life was about the big things that never seemed to happen to me, that I forgot to appreciate the little things along the way. Now I embrace the little things, the big things just seem to happen without any effort whatsoever.

It's crazy to think just how far I've come in 5 years without even really acknowledging it along the way. I love where I am now. I know I am God's child. I know I am loved by so many. I know God is good.

I'm excited to embark on the adventure of the next 5 years.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 
Psalm 139: 14

Sunday 21 January 2018

Rest

What does it really mean to rest? I Googled it (because dictionaries are outside of the comfort of my snuggly blanket) and it defined rest as to cease work or movement in order to relax, sleep, or recover strength.

In case I haven't complained enough, I'd been fighting tonsillitis for over 3 weeks. One week after 20 days of antibiotics and I'm finally feeling more normal again. Everyone told me I should rest so over Christmas I took it really easy. I did very little. I finished antibiotics and all the symptoms reappeared within 24hours. Highly inconvenient. I feel like I've been sleeping more than I've been awake. Not for one moment though do I feel like I've had any sort of break. 

The other week was a bit random. My boss text me on Monday night inviting me to stay for the rest of the week to get a bit of a break. I was hesitant at first. How on earth could staying with my boss, her husband and their 2 small children possibly be considered a break, let alone restful? See above definition; none of it says "go spend a week with children who play ukuleles and sing Let It Go at 6.45am on your day off" (yes, that is *exactly* how I was woken up one morning) and yet, for some bizarre reason, this is exactly what I needed. 

No, I am still not 100% healthy. Yes, I still feel tired. But I feel relaxed and I feel like my strength is returning. I have certainly not ceased work nor movement. Am I not resting? Am I changing the definition of rest? Or did it not encompass everything in the first place? 

For me, I feel most rested when I'm content. My joy comes from spending time comfortably with people, seeing other people laugh and smile, agreeing to last minute trips to the zoo, just feeling a part of something. According to the dictionary, I'm doing this whole rest thing wrong, but I know what restores my strength and I'm going to keep doing that.

The Lord replied, "My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest" -Exodus 33:14

Monday 1 January 2018

OneWord 365 2018

Over Christmas, as I was drifting off to sleep, I had a sudden thought: "oh no, I haven't even begun to think of my word for next year!" As soon as I finished my sentence the word popped in to my head. The speed of my response to the initial thought made me hesitant. How can a word come so freely when it hasn't even been on my mind. That was nearly a week ago but it took until yesterday for me to truly let the word loose in my thoughts. I typed in out but I didn't want to own it. It felt dull, plain, not very me. I wanted something exciting, challenging, new.

I wandered Port Meadow this morning, as has become my new year custom. I didn't walk my usual route, I wanted to see the ponies that live on the meadow so I went away from the river. As I walked and got closer to the ponies, I decided that I'd gotten close enough and I was going to head for home. That's when I heard the word again...

Stay

...and I realised it's the word I need this year. I'm easily distracted. I need people around me to prompt me when I start to stray from my path. I settle for enough and go elsewhere.

Stay seems such an unexciting word. I was hoping for "adventure" or "dream" or "growth". It's such an ambiguous word when you think about it. Do I stay a little longer in God's presence each day, stay in one place and make no progress, dwell in the good moments, soak up all that is around me, stay put where I live? What is it?

I cannot deny, it also has me wondering- what is going to distract me this year? Why do I need to stay? Is there something ahead that will totally ruin my faith? Sometimes I feel like I'm walking a tightrope and a slight wobble will have me plummeting to the darkness below. This year doesn't feel like that.

I expect challenges as a part of my Christian journey and I cannot plan ahead. All I can know if that Jesus is my Rock, my firm foundation that will keep me on this path through everything.

So here I am. This is the first year I've been excited for the year ahead and not thrown by the whole "new year, new me" thing. It's 2018 and I'm gonna stay a little longer.


Sunday 31 December 2017

Reflections

In the process of going about writing my annual "look back at the year" blog, I discovered a draft from a month ago titled "Reflections". I'd not actually written anything in the post and now have no idea what was actually going through my mind when I thought about that post. Reflections seems an apt titled for my thoughts on the past year though, so I'm going to run with that.

Initially I considered doing a month-by-month description of this year. That's quite long-winded, and in case you didn't guess from the above paragraph, my memory is terrible. I, then, considered reading last year's blog post about my goals for 2017 and reviewing those, but that would just be documenting my failures. I'm not quite sure instead what form this post will take. I'm just going to write and see what happens.

My word for 2017 was speak. A terrifying word.

Here's what I learnt when I speak.

*I have a voice
*People listen
*I am capable
*I am making a difference

Here's what I learnt when I listen.

*I'm trusted
*I'm safe
*I am valued

Here's what I learnt when I let God speak.

*joy
*peace
*happiness
*contentment
*love

Here's what I learnt when I listen to God.

*God's got this
*I am right where I'm meant to be

This year has been a big year. My life has changed unimaginably. I started the year expecting to be in the full time role of the job I was already doing part time. I'd be at the same church. I'd have the same colleagues. I'd continue to deny the longing to not be in an office job. I'd be snuggling the same children once a week and thanking God for the one block of time where I could be me. I'd be battling my brain forever. Staying safe in my comfort zone.

I'm in another part time role, in a new church with brand new colleagues. I don't have a proper office job. I'm happier than I was. I've bounced back from mental health lapses quickly. I'm learning my passions. Finding my heart for children to know Jesus in new ways. Pushing myself further and further out of my comfort zone.

I wouldn't have gotten to where I am now staying still in my safe place. I don't know where I would have been if I hadn't stopped on that Wednesday morning to listen to what God was speaking so clearly.

I'm not ending 2017 in a place of regret or dread. This is the first year I feel hope in a tangible way. More so than ever before. This year hasn't been easy, please don't read this post as that. I don't want to spend time dwelling on the bad stuff any more.

I'm so excited for more. Come at me 2018.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence,  and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8