As I stated on my last post, my going through with filing papers to initiate a divorce was halted at the eleventh hour.
I'd like to beleive that God finally gave me a sign, that He knew I was serious....seriously hurt, seriously doubting, seriously scared, seriously broken. I often wonder why God allows us all to continously go through stuff that we do. I don't know how many times I have heard from people that God only gives us as much as we can handle. I personally don't know how I feel about that statement or the underlying logic to it.
Different people have different breaking points. What seems like a hardship to one may seem trivial to another. I recall thinking (as mentioned in my last post), my life was about to enter a period of total chaos (although it is said almost 50% of American today experience divorce), but in the end I wasn't losing my life, or my world, like the people in Japan are currently suffering. Or like in Haiti last year, or Katrina a few years ago.
That fact alone is both humbling to me, and a cause of concern. I'm concerned because in the big picture of life my trials and tribulations do seem menial. But at the same time, do you know what it's like to live with a closet alcoholic? Do you know what it like to have full fledged depression? To wake up in the morning knowing a pill is waiting for you downstairs that 'may' balance out the chemicals in your head so you don't have thoughts of never waking up again? I do. And I'm not going to lie....depression sucks...and knowing God isn't a cure all for all people. I love God, I love Christ.....but that doesn't make me see rainbows everyday. Quite the contrary. I see evil, and corruption, and a sick world and a sick society all around me. I know people are destined for eternal condemnation, some even within my own family, and the task of trying to save those who don't want to be save is a daunting task.
So what else?
Well, I can tell you, it's not easy to remember my pills everyday. I was doing good for a while, but starting to forget again...like today....oh and yesterday. Great...just great. Doesn't do me any good if I keep forgetting, because according to the doctor and therapist, I'm supposed to take them every day to regulate my brain chemicals. Why can't I remember.
My mother-in-law contacted my mother just after this all went down a few weeks back. That's yet another reason I know my in-laws like me and care for me. They wanted to express their concerns and share with my parents (my dad already knew...I share with him more on these matters because my mom tends to over-react and then smother me and call me 20 times a day...I am her only son afterall).
The one thing I didn't expect was my mother-in-law to speak about my therapy. *Sigh*...Well, the cat is out of the bag now and of course my mom called me. Yes, I told her....your son speaks with a therapist. I think my mom was a little shocked and taken aback. I'm sure she thinks everything is like a 1950's movie where I'm laying down on a couch talking to a guy with a pipe who nods occasionally and suggests electro-shock therapy.
I can tell my mom is curious and wants to dig more, buts she's handling me with kid gloves at the same time. I don't think she knows I take pills (when I remember), or anti-anxiety drugs when I suffer panic attacks. And I don't have the heart to tell her (or my father) that I used to have suicidal thoughts. I have a feeling my mom would think I am 'crazy' and either try to smother me more with her love or try to 'fix' me her own way....if it were that simple.
How do you tell a parent....one who loves you so much....that they did nothing wrong, but you have a chemical imbalance in your head? That you look at life differently than almost everybody else around you? That there are periods....that creep up unexpectantly and at odd times....that makes you want to cry uncontrolably, or run-away, or worse. That people around you are enjoying the simple day to day things, but you secretly walk around with a fake smile exposed to the outside world while within a dark thunder cloud clings to your soul.
People say they'll pray for you, to take the heartache and pain away...but if there is any respite, it's only temporary at best, and I know deep down inside my personal demons will most likely return.
Anyway, my mom now knows I see a therapist but is not 100% sure why. The curiosity I'm sure is killing her, but she has no idea to what extent and I assume she thinks it's just about my marriage, and maybe a bad day at work here and there.
(To be continued)
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