Forgiveness

It takes a lot to make me genuinely angry with a person. It takes even more for me to say I hate anyone. For this reason, I have always considered myself a very forgiving person. Truth is I actually find it incredibly hard to forgive a person if they have upset me, or made me super angry. In my memory, there is only one person in recent years I can say I truly hated. 

In the depths of illness, I became a vile person. I was nasty to everyone and took offence to everything. And then there was one final straw and I broke. Details are not important but it was many things over many years. I had had enough. I told this person that I never ever wanted to hear from her ever again. We'd been mistaken for sisters. Now we were strangers. My mother stayed in contact with her, much to my disgust. 

Just under 18 months ago, there was a little voice in my head "Talk to her. It's time" I was afraid but I sent a simple message: "It's been a long time. How are you?" Conversation was short, to the point, unnatural. But it was a start. Things had changed, we were both at very different points in life, and still forgiveness did not come. Conversation continued over the next months. Stilted, long gaps between replies. Eventually the friend request on Facebook- a sure sign of mending broken relationships, right?

I made excuses for a long time. I worked odd shifts, I couldn't afford to get home, I had other commitments. I'm unemployed, and have infinite time. I couldn't put it off any longer. Today was the day. I've not quite gotten to forgiveness but I was prepared for this to be an ok meeting. Mother came along as mediator/support. It was a perfectly pleasant meeting. We had lunch. I got to meet her daughter. And that was it. It was underwhelming. I hoped I'd be closer to forgiveness. Instead I was reminded of the pain, the sadness, the frustration. I was not prepared for the flashbacks; all the insensitive comments, and the reminder that I'll never be good enough for my mother. I'm damaged goods. I was hopeful for healing, the start of mending. Instead I was left with deeper wounds. Can forgiveness come from this situation? I have no idea. This is not how I expected to end today, but that is how the day has ended. 

Medication Woe

It's days like today I miss Tumblr. I've been trying to decide whether I want to come off one of my medications and probably have made the wrong decision. For the past week I have been taking my evening medication only every other night because I'm bored of it making me fat. This is a truly pathetic excuse for coming off a medication that is making me, on the whole, feel better. I have once again reached the 6 month mark of being on these medications. Whenever I start a new course of antidepressants, the same thing happens. 6 months in, some of the symptoms crop up randomly. And 6 months in, I contemplate coming off the meds. And then I relapse spectacularly and the cycle starts again.

I so want it to be different this time. I didn't stop my meds outright. I've tried to wean myself off them. But with no real medical input it's a challenge to know what to do. Maybe I should stop trying to be my own doctor, suck it up and talk with my GP. All I know is that hallucinations, crying in supermarkets, feeling completely zoned out all the time and just needing to be held aren't particularly helpful to a decent quality of life. Yes, I'm living. Yes, I feel more free than I have in years. But I just want a hug :(

25

A week ago I turned 25. To most, this may not seem like a big deal. For the girl who tried everything in her power to not get to 23, this is a massive thing.

I wrote this on Tumblr on my birthday:

"2 years ago, I went to the safari park with some amazing friends. We went for dinner in the evening. I’d been discharged from hospital 24hours before. I believed I should never ever turn 23.

1 year ago, I worked the morning of my birthday. I remember being told that I’d come down from the high eventually. I was excited but I still didn’t believe I had a real place in the world. Someone told me I looked healthier in a photo from the year before. I wanted to be back in that place. I was preparing to relapse on my month long holiday.

Today, I worked this morning and everyone who knew me wished me happy birthday. My colleagues bought me a card and a cake. I’m homeless. I’m technically unemployed. I’m spending this afternoon chilling in the garden by myself. I’m 8 months overdose free. I’m 4 months self harm free. I’ve already eaten 2 slices of cake today. I’m the happiest I have been for over 10 years."

And it's completely true. I am the happiest I have been since my life started falling apart many, many summers ago. I've had moments of happiness, but nothing as complete as this current period. Yes, I've had bad days, but I've reached out, asked for help, or simply just talked to someone. I'm not perfect, I still let the bad thoughts win some days and end up spending my day curled up feeling pathetic but that's still coping without self-destruction. On tough days I'm scheduling nice things for myself too. I can be flexible though, and I'm no longer afraid to say no if things are too difficult or I can't do it with love. 

I've learnt to say sorry (more on that next week) I've learnt to love friends, I've learnt to make my own decisions, I've learnt to accept love. 

Things have been really up in the air. I moved in to a new place last week and my landlady went away until yesterday. I was terrified she was going to come back and evict me, that this was all a cruel joke, that I didn't deserve good things. But that hasn't happened. She's returned and we're getting on just fine. Everything is going ok. I feel at home. Most importantly I feel safe. I did have a wobbly few days but things are better again. I need to trust God and believe things really are ok. I'm free as long as I trust God. The second I doubt, that freedom vanishes and I find myself falling back in to the safety of chains I have worked so hard to break. 

"He fills my life with good things" Psalm 103:5

Out of Your Comfort Zone?

At the beginning of June I attended a Women's Conference at my church with that title. It was a challenge to think of what comfort zone I'm still sat in. I worried that I was still in the mental illness comfort zone but I'm not- although I do have to choose every day to keep away from the safety net of hiding in bed, working myself up in to an anxious mess. But that wasn't the comfort zone I really felt God poking me to deal with.

In September I will be one of 4 children's interns at my church. I chose the children's ministry because I know it, it's safe. I applied for a different area of ministry too- one that is truly out of my comfort zone. But here I am- waiting to start full-time in the children's team. And you know what? I'm actually scared. It truly is out of my comfort zone. I have maintained for MANY years that I never want to make a career out of working for children. It's something I enjoy and nothing more. It appears God has other ideas. When it comes to children's ministry, I tend to open my mouth and end up being more involved. I'm hoping over the next 12 months, God's purpose for me becomes even more evident. I find working with children on a serious level, quite difficult. It provokes anxiety in me. I worry that they laugh at me secretly, that they look at me and say "I hope I never turn out like her when I grow up" even though children tend to be the least judgemental, especially in a church situation. I'm sure my fears around this are unnecessary. I'm already a valued member of the team but yet it's still relatively uncomfortable. But maybe the low level comfort is good- and that I can be used in ways that really are far out of my comfort zone- just to test the limits.

Another thing way out of my comfort zone is admitting vulnerability and asking people for a favour. and this week I have had to do a lot of that. On Tuesday the friend I was living with implied I needed to find somewhere else to live. Initially I told my dad I was moving home and there was no other option. But then one pastor at church said she had a spare room from the end of next week that I could move in to. And then I figured it wouldn't hurt to confirm if I could still stay with a friend for the planned night coming up. And then I asked a friend if I could stay with her for a night or two also. This is completely not me. I will do anything for anyone but rarely ask for anything myself. And yet I did. And while it was completely out of my comfort zone, it has had unbelievably wonderful results. I'm going to be back weeks earlier than I ever dreamed, and I am excited. So excited. Sometimes we have to push through the difficult things to reap the amazing benefits. It is so worth it and I must remember this.