I've never really gotten into Contemporary Christian music, not because I have anything against it, just because it typically just doesn't speak to me. But this song is BY FAR my favorite and I think of it quite often when life seems to be getting the better of me. The first time I ever heard the song I was actually going through one of those storms and I was listening to 88.1 WAAY FM (Christian radio station here) when this song came on. It touched me so deeply that I was actually in tears as I was driving down the road. I realized that I had been going about my situation all wrong. God doesn't give us hard times just because He thinks it's fun to watch us struggle. Sometimes He tests us, sometimes He's preparing us for something that we don't even know is in the works, and, unfortunately, sometimes He does have to punish us as well. But, the Bible promises us that God will never put more on us than we can bare, and therefore, instead of feeling sorry for ourselves and trying to do everything on our own, we should just keep praising God through the storm because He WILL bring us through it and we will come out better for it in the end.
Unfortunately, these have been in my head lately, because I've been going through one of those storms. God has been dealing with me for a little over a year now to become an advocate/community educator of sorts for mental health awareness. It was always in the back of my mind but I always had some excuse on why I couldn't start it right now. Eventually, I had to lose two things very dear to my heart (at least temporarily) for God to get my attention and remind me that He means it when He gives us something to do.
Now, obviously I did NOT deal with that well at first, OK I'll be honest, that happened in July and I'm just now starting to get a grip on things. I cried uncontrollably for the first few days, and then I think I went into a bit of denial because I miraculously felt better for a little while, almost as if nothing had happened. But, before long, as happens with feelings you haven't truly dealt with, they started to rear their ugly head. They were minor at first (well, minor to what would come next) and then the next thing I knew things had spiraled out of my control. I know longer cared if I lived or died (although I never considered taking my own life). Even though I know it's far from true, I had convinced myself that no one would miss me if I was gone and at times almost thought the world would be better off if I just went away. Then came the panic attacks. Every morning as I got ready for work my heart would start racing and a strong fear that I could never figure out where it came from would rush over me. Most mornings I could calm myself down enough to get out the door and talk to my mom on the way to work and make it through the day but I came home exhausted every day from pretending everything was OK. And don't get me started on weekends. I had many weekends the only time I stepped foot outside my house was to get the mail. Pretty much, if I didn't have to get out to pay a bill or be sure my dogs were taken care of, I found a reason to stay home.
This went on for a month or two without me telling anyone what was happening. I mean, people who knew me well could tell something was wrong, but I wouldn't tell them everything because I was too ashamed. That is until one day I realized I was on the verge of absolutely loosing it and got so scared I finally called my counselor and made an appointment for that morning. We talked for a while and I felt better and then I went to my Psychiatrist and he changed my anxiety medicine and things got a lot better. But, my heart was still shattered in a million pieces. Finally, one night a few weeks ago after running out of gas for the 2nd time in a week, (I really don't want to hear about it. I realize it was not so smart, but give me a break, during that time I was doing good if I knew what day it was and had an idea of where I was suppose to be and what I was suppose to be doing) I called my Pastor while I waited on AAA to get there. We talked about a lot of things but the main thing I remember saying through my tears is, "I'm so tired of hurting." Even though I wasn't saying it directly to Him, God heard my plea and within the next couple days He gave me exactly what I had been needing to feel at peace again and be clear headed enough to hear what He was trying to tell me.
That's why this week is so important to me. I mean, if I'd been doing what I was suppose to be doing all along I would have been participating in this week anyway, but I feel like I've let so many people down and I worry about the people that I might have helped already if I hadn't been so caught up in my own wants and desires instead of doing God's Will. But, look out nay-sayers, unbelievers, and anyone else who helps perpetuate the stereotypes of those with mental illness(es) because I'm back with avengence!
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