Sunday, November 13, 2011


You guessed it – my lack of blogging means I crashed. I don’t like writing when I am in a deep depression because I hate to sound like a pitiful whiner. Then I remind myself if I was a pitiful whiner, I’d whine about cerebral palsy and Crohn’s disease. Most people are unaware I even have Crohn’s because I rarely talk about it. It’s a fact of life for me and I see no need to share I have severe abdominal pains at times and even lose control of my bowels. It’s part of life – why share? And the cerebral palsy is obvious… when I do talk about it, it is usually to make others feel comfortable, knowing I can laugh at myself. Sometimes I think people don’t think I know I have it, so they avoid the topic, as if the world has some conspiracy to hide my disability from me. Again, like Crohn’s, cerebral palsy is a part of my life… I don’t know any different. Major Clinical Depression is different.

Last weekend, I have an extremely (no exaggeration) traumatic event occur. It sent me into a dangerous spiral that I am just now crawling out of. I came home to an ambulance, several police cars and a fire truck in front of my building. No big deal to most people, but to me, catastrophic! Let me explain.

Early this year, my family, church and friends all were convinced (thanks to my mother) that I was incompetent and unable to live independently. I have been on medication for depression and anxiety since 1992 (which, coincidently, is when I moved out of my parents home and realized it was NOT normal to be molested in the middle of the night). My mother has always been a fierce advocate against psychotropic drugs. “Christians pray if they get depressed…” or “Where is your faith? You must not be a Christian if you are depressed!” You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was going to college to be a psychotherapist! She accused me of not being a Christian, refused to ‘waste her money because I was too stupid for college and would flunk out anyway”, etc. I went anyway, graduated with two Master Degrees and an Educational Specialist Degree (which is half way between a Masters and a Doctorate Degree), graduating cum laude out of spite. Anyway, she had convinced my church (whom I considered my ULTIMATE family) and friends I was a drug addict. I have never taken any drug that wasn’t prescribed to me. Are you kidding? I have enough brain damage! I know too much about neurobiology to mess with drugs.

So early this year, I had several people trying to Baker Act me… the cops were called and sent to pick me up. My church arranged to pay to send me away for 6 months. Friends from Tallahassee called looking for me and the church told them if they talked to me, convince me to go into Rehab, which is exactly what they did.

I didn't go into Rehab, but I lived in isolation for approximately 6 months. Praise God, I am in a new home WHICH HAS HEAT, joined a new church, am part of a new BSF group… forcing myself to get back into life.

But I need professional counseling. I still have nightmares and flashbacks, still experience intense anxiety, still fear homelessness… and when I saw the ambulance, police, fire trucks, etc… I panicked. I thought they were coming to take me away.

It was awful… I regressed back to last winter.

Basically, I confess I don’t have the faith I need to completely move on. I hang on to sin in my life to comfort me instead of relying on the Ultimate Comforter. I fear God… yet I fear being abandoned again. I need God. I admit my sin of distrust to Him… and my longing to stay in bed sometimes and whither away. *Note to the depressed – the best way to avoid staying in bed is to get a dog. My cat is much more understanding of my depression.

There is no profound lesson in this post. I just know I need to keep writing, keep – er, start sending my writing out in attempt to get out of poverty so I just wrote what is on my heart.

Perhaps someone will benefit from the ramblings.

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