Diary of a Mad Woman

I don’t normally write in a diary entry fashion, but today I will because the past two weeks have been hellish for me. Manic then depressed, back and forth. Panic, anxiety, it’s been a horrid time and I frankly have come close to just giving up on ever being stable again. A hopelessness that was becoming stronger as each day passed. In spite of the medications I take, I was getting very little sleep.

I finally had a meltdown at work and got extremely angry at a coworker for a minor incident. I left work early and was given permission to take off a day for my mental health. I had hoped to regroup, but I was still anxious and like a powder keg that could explode if not handled carefully. I snapped at a patron and was generally miserable. I called my psychiatrist and she decided to make a change in dosage of a particular medication I take that she felt was triggering the mania and the subsequent downward spiral that happens after an episode. Fortunately, this change appears to be working because I am feeling more stable, just in time for my son’s week at home.

I have been unable to go to church the whole time because I simply would not be able to lie and say I was fine when asked, and I do not wish for the general members to know I am bipolar. What would I say, “I feel hopeless and crazy”? So, I have just been in my survival mindset. It’s all I have been able to do.

Although many times I cannot pray for myself when I get into a place like this, I did. It’s probably the main reason why I kept putting one foot in front of the other, when all I wanted to do was simply give up; that and the faithful prayers of those who knew how much I was struggling. It seems when I am at my lowest, God feels nowhere to be found. Yet, he is a constant presence in my life. I accept this by faith because I have been keenly aware of him at other times. By faith, I believe I have not been abandoned. If I did, the urge to give up would become unbearable and I would act on it. I have before, just without success. But I believe that failure was God’s intervention as well.

I still do not understand mental illness in my life. The why goes unanswered—for now. Like Job, I am humbled by God and his incredible vastness. But it’s mind boggling that the Creator even considers me. Though I may in the dark for now, I know I am loved beyond all capacity to receive. Maybe it isn’t hopeless after all.