Courage

Courage is a word I don't often hear these days, and yet these last few days the following quote has been floating around my head.

'Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying"I will try again tomorrow"'

Several people this week have mentioned that I have so much courage, and at first I've been very quick to correct them: I don't do anything major that warrants that label. In induction week I used the adjective "brave" to describe myself because others said it, not because I believed it. However this quote keeps reappearing and I'm beginning to realise what people mean. No, I'm not jumping off cliffs, or climbing mountains or putting myself completely out there, but I am getting up every morning, I am getting myself to work every day, I'm not running away when things get difficult, I'm starting to speak about things. While others may see these things as trivial; something they manage without even thinking, these are my mountains that I am climbing. 

It's been one roller coaster of a week. I went to a different church on Sunday, my nana spent a night in hospital, Alpha is a challenge, I'm angry at my parents, angry at God, struggling to fight the destructive thoughts, feeling totally unwanted by many people, I've cried my eyes for hours, I've screamed at my pillow, vented at so many and yet my working week is nearly done and here I am. I'm still standing and with a tiny bit of energy left. I'm amazed as the next person that I'm still going. 

People this week have said that it's a privilege to be part of my journey, that they're really proud of me, that I'm doing so well. I've laughed at most of them and told them to stop lying to me, but as I sit typing this I'm beginning to realise that they're right. I'm defying a lot of odds right now. 11 months ago, I didn't even know if I'd wake up the next morning and here I am beginning to live, not simply survive. Someone else said to me this week that those who struggle the most are healing and growing and end up thriving. I'm praying this applies to me too. Right now I don't know what I'll be doing in a year, and I don't really want to know either, but actually I know I'll be alive. I may still only be just learning to walk through life, but that's ok. These things take time. I'm healing day by day. God has been telling me this week I need to slow down. I do, before I burn myself out again. It's not sustainable to live at the pace I have been, never wanting to stop to enjoy the journey and only focusing on the destination. That's not the way to go. I'm starting to see that. Right now I need to be brave every single day and face the demons that tell me to run, to disappear, to give up. I may not shout loudly, nor seek praise for these things, but just getting out of bed is enough sometimes and I notice only by reflection. Reflection that only happens when I stop and take a breath. 

It's ok. I can be courageous, just in my own little way. 

Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. Do everything in love.

-1 Corinthians 16: 13-14

It's not all rainbows

A friend of mine wrote a new blog post today and so I hopped on over to her blog to read it. And then her post from a year ago caught my eye. She wrote about how she thought things would be easier now she lived with other Christians and worked for a church, but it was still difficult. It hit home. I've hit exactly the same wall, and I've been kind of avoiding blogging because I don't want to sound horrible and negative.

Genuinely, I love this place; I love the people I live with; I love the work I'm doing; I love my boss; I love that I have a room mate. That doesn't mean everything is rosy.

I think one of the hardest things for me recently has been living in community. We do everything together; live, work, eat, pray, socialise. I am not used to that. Over the last 3 weeks I have had a crash course in living with people. Over the last 8 months I have taught myself to cope with mental illness. I have not yet taught myself to cope with mental illness while living in community. It's flipping hard. I want to shut down and hide in bed until my brain resets. I want someone to hug me 24/7. I have not yet managed to find the balance; letting people in without worrying them. It is hard.

I had a bit of a bad experience my first week. A fellow intern didn't believe something I disclosed to her. Since then it has been increasingly hard thing to open up, because what if no-one else believes me? The other night, while on Alpha training, we had to do a role play. My character was one with a negative attitude. Someone else in my group commented after that it's really hard to deal with me when I'm being negative and that I'm a heavy presence. They were commenting on the character, alas it went straight in to my head "See, you're heavy. Lose some weight. People might take you seriously then. No-one likes a miserable cow."

I had a 1:1 meeting with an incredibly trusted person yesterday. She was present for the Alpha training and mentioned that she was frantically praying when my "negative attitude" was being commented on that I didn't take it to heart. At least I could be honest with her about it all! I had one of those moments while speaking to her when I say things I didn't even realise I was thinking, I'm not going to lie, my head is a lot darker than I care to say out loud, but she gets me and doesn't shy away when I tell her the truth. We talked, I cried, we laughed, she prayed. I felt better.

I know one meeting doesn't fix everything but admitting it is the first step. I'm exhausted and I find it so much harder to fight when I'm tired. I'm constantly busy and I've been neglecting the life-affirming friends who mean so much to me. I'm giving myself constantly but not taking time for myself. This has to change. I cannot survive like this.

In our first week our School of Ministry pastor gave us a bit of a catch phrase, that he'd been given while praying; "not just surviving; thriving" and right now I'm bouncing in the ocean. I'm not sinking, but I'm definitely not swimming. It's not a life, it's an existence. I have such an opportunity this year and I cannot throw it away because I let mental illness win for the 100th time. I need to embrace every moment of time with people, but also make time for myself. Sometimes that time for myself can be with my dearest friends, sometimes it can just be taking an extra long shower. I need to focus on our teaching sessions. It's such a gift to be getting such amazing theology teaching and I don't want to miss out. Most of all I need to grow closer to God in so many ways. I need to be more disciplined. Sit and have quiet times with God, read my Bible every day, take time to listen to what He wants to say to me.

Yesterday a friend told me "sometime we have to have bad days in order to see the progress we have made". I couldn't see it as she said it, but the more we talked the more I saw just how far I've come in 11 months. And I've got 11 more months to go even further. Challenge accepted.