The last few weeks have been ones of discouragement and isolation for me, which you can tell from my last few posts. I hate when I get like that, because I realize that my isolation is my own doing and yet I can’t seem to stop it. For the most part I’m attuned to my ups and downs, but that doesn’t mean I’ve gotten them under control.
I realized yesterday though that I couldn’t keep going like this though. I was floundering and it was starting to show and with so many balls in the air, I just couldn’t let myself collapse.
So I begged.
“I cling to you; your strong right hand holds me securely” ~ Psalm 63:8
I asked God to pull me together, just one day at a time. This week was going to be a killer; a trafficking awareness presentation to do, a funeral for a long-time neighbor, my daughter’s birthday party, in addition to the usual busy schedule. And it’s happening. I felt peaceful yesterday, amidst my chaotic agenda of school, Taekwondo classes, meeting planning, putting the finishing touches on my presentation, piano lessons, and finally delivering my talk.
I think I ignore this path far too often in my reliance on myself and the devices of the world that I’ve come to trust. I’m not trying to say that I’m going to stop taking my medication, or stop seeing my psychiatrist on a regular basis, but I think I find myself compartmentalizing God and not seeking His healing in the matter of my mental health.
Maybe because I know that mental illness is a legitimate medical condition and using prayer to combat it feels somehow like I’m giving in to the nay-sayers. Ridiculous, since I eagerly pray for those with cancer, undergoing surgery, victims of accidents… right?
I need to keep prayer as a first line of defense, not a last resort of desperation.