Faith and mental well-being

Studies have been done about the benefits of faith to our health, including our mental health. Most of them have found that religious people have a greater ability to cope than people without a faith. One of the top researchers in this field is Dr. Harold Koenig of Duke University Medical Center. An interview with him by Lisa Schneider brings to light some of his findings. Dr. Koenig has a number of books out on the subject.

The reason I bring this up now is because yesterday a friend asked me, "What does your belief in God mean to you and your ability to cope with bipolar disorder?" When I started listing for her what my faith meant to me, I found I couldn't stop. Once more - as always happens when I take the time to stop and think about it - I was overwhelmed at how far I have come since I first began believing in God nineteen years ago. My life has become rich and full of purpose. I was transformed and I continue to be transformed. It is an exciting journey.

I want to share here some of the things I'm doing that I'm quite sure I wouldn't be doing if I hadn't been studying the Bible, learning about Jesus, spending time in prayer, and belonging to a community of friends who share my beliefs. When I became a follower of Christ:

1. I learned to fear less and trust more.
2. I gained the courage to speak openly about my disorder by writing about it, realizing that it's only by talking about mental illness that we can reduce the stigma. This is what God would want for the world.
   
3. I learned that I don't have to be ashamed of having a mental illness. I am God's child.
4. I sensed God's love for me and learned to share that love with others.
5. I gained the support of wonderful friends who love me with a godly love, no matter what I go through or what I do or say.
6. I discovered a purpose that is greater than me, work that I find exciting and of significant value.
7. I discovered gifts I never knew I had. I became a leader and activist. (not bad for someone who was for so many years a shy person, afraid to speak up)
8. I learned to persevere and never give up hope.
   
9. I learned that when I help others, I become strong. I am no longer a victim.
   
10. I learned that I can, in a very special way, understand those who struggle like me. Listening to other people's problems connects us. A meaningful bond develops. There is richness in that.
11. I learned that God made us to be creative - in his image. When I have the urge to make something happen I try to obey. What an exciting life that creativity has brought me!
12. Though depression is still a hellish experience, I have come to look on it as something to use. By trying out different coping techniques and writing about them, I can make good come out of bad. I've learned that each episode helps me learn more about life. The Bible talks about trials as a "refining fire." We become better - stronger. Being reminded of what depression is once in a while helps me have compassion for others who go through it.
    
13. Though I often feel too small to carry out the work I've taken on, I now realize it's okay to be small. I better realize how big God is, and how I need to allow him to work through me. I only have to be his hands; he will do the rest.
14. I learned to appreciate the way the great potter molded me, one step at a time. And I know he's not through with me yet.
    

I am grateful for all God has given me. I like who he made me to be - bipolar and all. Life is good.

White-knuckled

Chica, in a recent post quoted Phyllis from The Young and the Restless as saying, "I'm holding on so tight that my knuckles are white." This reminded me of the way I used to feel. I wrote about it in my new yet-to-be-published book, A Firm Place to Stand, and thought I would share it here. This also happens to be a theme we will discuss at Living Room this Friday.

I dedicate this post to Chica.

I Don’t Believe in If Anymore
©marja bergen

With the greatest determination, I used to cling to what was left of my mind’s composure. I felt as though I were hanging from the edge of a high rooftop, white-knuckled, panicky with fear. How long can I hold on like this? Can I maintain my strength? What will happen if I let go? Exhaustion overwhelmed me. Far below was the hard ground and no one to catch me if I fell.

But I did fall – quite often. These experiences were devastating and difficult to recover from. The support I received from family, friends and my doctor was helpful, but I was alone in the battle.

Rudyard Kipling’s poem If was like a bible to me during many years of my illness. I described in Riding the Roller Coaster how meaningful this poem became, how I patterned my life after its good counsel, how I carried it with me for many years. It encouraged me to become a productive and responsible person. I still think highly of the poem and try to go along with most of its advice. I follow through on my dreams, don’t worry about what others say and try as much as possible to “…fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run.” But I no longer listen to the challenge Kipling leaves us with these words:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will, which says to them, “Hold on!”

For twenty-three years, I tried to live out those lines when I was in crisis. I tried with my best willpower to survive the mental turmoil that overtook me. I was determined to be strong, hanging on to whatever I could, but not finding much of substance. Those were times of anxiety and fear.

Coping with crisis finally changed for the better when I could no longer deny that God is real. I realized I didn’t have to depend on myself alone. I could relax my grip and trust in someone much stronger than me.

The faith I learned to have in a God who loves me too much to let me go helps me cope better with stress. Extreme difficulties no longer develop as often. Sometimes I still have a fear of falling, and for good reason. But today I have a Bible that tells me, “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you. I will help you. I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10, NLT) Remembering this gives me comfort when I need it. I am not as afraid anymore.

Challenging periods will always be part of my life. There will be times when I’ll have trouble. I may even fall. But I know that when I do, there will be someone there to catch me and stay with me as I recover. I’ll never be alone again.

Hanging on the wall across from my bed is a photograph of a child’s small hand resting comfortably on her father’s big hand. Underneath are the words from Proverbs 3:5, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” During tough times, I look at that photograph and feel a sense of peace. No longer is there a need for white-knuckled fists, no longer a need to rely on my own inadequate strength.

Play as comfort for the soul

I thank everyone who commented on my last post. You are encouraging me to keep on with my new painting hobby.

Over the last few days I've been thinking of how comforting creative activity can be. I remember times in my life when it was very much soul food for me.

When I was seven years old I was sent away from my home in Amsterdam to stay at a place we called a "colony." This was an institution in the countryside for city children who were unhealthy. Here we stayed for six weeks while the nurses tried to fatten us up by feeding us lots of starchy foods - lots of bread. Parents were only allowed to visit half way through this six week period. I stayed in one of these places two years in a row.

It was a traumatic time for me, a shy little girl who found it hard to be away from home. I remember the nurse's harsh command to us at bedtime to lie facing the same direction, a ploy to keep us from talking. I remember the shrill yelling at me to get into the shower in the steamy institutional bathroom where we had all lined up naked. "Get in there! Now!" I was terribly frightened, since I had only taken baths in our zinc washtub at home. I was afraid of the hot water splashing all over my face.

One day I got locked into the bathroom by accident while everyone else went out for a walk. I panicked. Here I was, all alone, with no one to hear me. I cried and screamed. Finally, someone did come and let me out. This nurse was kind and compassionate. She got me settled at a table by a window with some coloring pencils and paper. Here, with the warm sunshine pouring down on me, I enjoyed a peaceful hour by myself, looked after by someone who cared about my feelings. That was one of the few enjoyable times I had in that place.

Throughout my adult life, ever since I first got sick at the age of nineteen, I have turned to creative activity to help me through depressions and to keep depression at bay. The solace of quiet playing with paints, photoshop, or embroidery thread restores me. Making something beautiful with my heart and hands is powerful medicine. It feeds my soul.

Play

I haven't been feeling my usual stable self the last three days. Each afternoon, somewhat stressful things happened. Each afternoon a fragile mood came upon me. You know, like it would be good to have a cry but you can't. Nerves on edge - feeling like a glass of beer would be a good idea to settle me down. (Though I have no addictions except coffee, I have come to appreciate why so many with bipolar disorder become addicted to drugs or alcohol.)

I now know the things that happened these past three days are not at fault. If all was well with me, they wouldn't have bothered me.

So - what to do? I have decided the best thing to do is to play. I need to have some creative fun. This afternoon I played around, making photo-cards as hand-outs for the next Living Room meeting. Tonight I'm writing this post - blogging being a very creative outlet - and sharing one of the paintings I recently did. Amateur Dancer commented on my last post, about the painting I told her I've been doing. She's the one who inspired me to get into it. Such an encourager! Thank you, Jessica.

This is a very small painting - notecard size. I can't bring myself to make anything much bigger. I used a photograph of a Havana street scene that my husband took, using bits and pieces of the scene for the composition. I think street scenes are one of my favorite subjects and I like to include people in the picture. So far, I most like to draw the scene with ink and then paint it.

Watercolor is a much more complicated medium than I realized. There are so many different techniques and so many surprises come along as you work. That part is kind of exciting. I have an awful lot to learn.

So, tonight perhaps I will sit down and try to make another little painting. Play takes my mind off uncomfortable moods. It keeps me from becoming introspective. It focuses my mind on something positive and colorful.

A good time

Yesterday's Living Room support group was good and left me feeling happy, as all those meetings do. I spent the rest of the day savoring it. After having twenty out to our previous meeting, I decided to make a huge table, pushing five long tables together. That made room for twenty-two chairs to fit around. But only thirteen showed up - still a good turn-out though.

You won't believe this, Susan, but our topic, "Uncovering the Good in the Bad", was very much like your post about being grateful. We discussed how gratitude can affect how we feel about life and God, and how it affects our mood. Even situations that seem bad at first can eventually give us something to be thankful for if we're in the thanking habit.

In Romans 8:28 Paul said, "...we know that to those who love God, who are called according to his plan, everything that happens fits into a pattern for good."

I told the story about how I'd recently accessed my medical records from when I was in a mental hospital forty years ago. I'd suspected I had been over-medicated but wanted to be assured of all the facts, since I was writing about it in my latest book. And sure enough, the records show that I had been given excessive amounts of chlorpromazine. My mouth hung open most of the time and I could not communicate with others. There was just nothing happening in my brain. It was as though it had stalled.

The part that truly made me bitter was uncovering a letter written by my private pdoc's partner, a person who had interviewed me shortly after I was admitted. He recommended that I be discharged. My previous employer had offered to let me to try and work, in spite of my psychotic condition. This doctor suggested that I would do better in such a normal environment, rather that this mental institution.

But apparently, this letter was either ignored or not agreed with. I stayed in the hospital for another six interminable months - miserable months. I was only nineteen years old, the youngest on my ward. It was only when I read these records that I realized this letter existed and that an opportunity had been lost.

I felt stunned and bitter.

But, after a few days my thinking changed. I began to appreciate how far I had come, more than ever before. I had even more to be thankful for than I realized. God has truly done a lot for me. My records showed that the staff did not hold out much hope for me. My (incorrect) diagnosis was schizophrenia and, in those days, medications were not as effective as they are today. But did I ever show them!!

I'm a very fortunate person. And I'm sure that living in the institution in the way I did has benefited me by helping me have compassion and respect for others. I believe what Paul said. If we're in line with God's plan, "...everything that happens fits into a pattern for good." I believe my hospital experiences help me find joy in the work I do with Living Room. I like being a supporter. I'm no longer a victim.

"Do you want to get well?"

I've almost finished reading a great book by Mark Buchanan called The Rest of God: Restoring Your Soul by Restoring Sabbath. Something he said hit me very hard and made me look at something I've never considered before. He said, "It's the most natural thing to befriend your sickness, even, after long association, to depend upon it." Buchanan carries on by talking about some of the people Jesus healed, "Their entire lives...have taken shape around their injuries or diseases."

In John 5:6 Jesus asks a crippled man, "Do you want to get well?" That seems to be an odd thing to ask a person and, to think that a person doesn't really want to get well, might make us think ill of him. We might think of him as feeling sorry for himself or wanting pity. But, when you think of it, this man had been crippled all of his life - 38 years. No one had ever expected anything from him. He had never had responsibilities. To suddenly be well would mean a drastic new way of living, a way of living that would be hard to adjust to.

And this made me think that perhaps I'm a bit like that. To be perfectly honest, having lived with bipolar disorder for my entire 40 years of adult life, my illness does - in large part - define me, even though I do a wide variety of things. The major part of my current life involves raising awareness about mental health issues and supporting others who live with mood disorders. My BP is responsible for the kind of person I've become. When I become hypomanic, which often happens, I become super creative. I value that in myself. My moods are what makes me who I am. ...though I would love to get rid of those depressions.

If Jesus asked me, "Do you want to get well?" would I say yes?

I'm sure that if he had offered to make me well when I was twenty or thirty, or forty, I would have gladly said yes. I would then have been able to go back to school perhaps and start a career. My illness has kept me from that, the stress being too great. I've tried. I might have been able to make photography a full-time career. But now, at sixty-one, I have learned to turn the bipolar - the bad - into something good. I've learned how to help others cope with their illness. I've learned to build awareness. That has become my life. I could not do these things the way I do, without experiencing the disorder myself.

But you know, although I still have bipolar disorder, I think Jesus has made me well. In helping others, I am helping myself. The work I do gives me great joy. I love the life I live.

Taking a break

I will be taking a break from blogging until Tuesday. Time to sit by a lake, read, write, and paint. Wish I could do that longer than the three days I have, but I'll take them and be happy for them.

Up recipes for down times

In 1994 I put together a little booklet with the title, Up Recipes for Down Times: Great Taste With Little Effort, a collection of recipes specifically designed for people in the midst of depression. I prepared this on behalf of the Mood Disorder Association of BC (MDA). It's a great tool for times when there is little energy to cook. Often the most difficult part of cooking is thinking up ideas of what to have for dinner. This is especially true when we're depressed. For those who periodically have that problem, having such a collection of meal ideas handy helps out a lot. I myself find it a tool I wouldn't want to do without during those difficult times.

I've been thinking lately that I should start putting together another one, especially since MDA yesterday told me they wished they had some left. Perhaps I'll start work on this and see if they're interested in printing it. Since 1994 I've come up with more good, simple recipes - recipes that are tasty, have few ingredients, and are quick to prepare.

It occurred to me that, now that I'm a blogger, I could solicit recipes from those of you who share the struggle with mood disorders. Since Dream Writer has been sharing recipes on her site, so can I. So - I'll post one of my recipes here. And if you have any that I could test and consider for a new Up Recipes for Down Times booklet - very possibly in the making - I would appreciate it. And if the new booklet doesn't happen, it would be fun to share Up Recipes anyway.

As fillers, this booklet has upbeat quotes, recipes for positive thinking: another thing I'd love your help with.

So...here is my recipe: an almost effortless, healthy quiche - a complete meal in one fell swoop:

Vegetable Quiche

10 oz pkg frozen vegetables (defrosted)
4 eggs, beaten
2 cups (200g) grated mozzarella cheese
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp basil or oregano
9-inch frozen pie crust

Place pie crust on cookie sheet and allow to defrost for 10 minutes.
In bowl, combine the rest of the ingredients.
Pour into pie crust and bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes.
Makes 6 servings.

An amazing meeting

Living Room met today and the afternoon had a party atmosphere. So many of us were there. We had set up four tables joined to each other to make one huge table that will seat 18 people. My co-facilitator thought that perhaps I was overdoing it - and I kind of wondered that as well. Usually we put up three tables which will seat 16. But we ended up with 20 in attendance, an all-time record for us. We had to squeeze a couple of people in on the corners, uncomfortable for them and not something I like to do.

The two ladies who spoke at the service last Sunday told us how they had felt when they shared their story with the congregation. One told us that she had found the experience freeing. Both speakers had received a lot of affirmation after. I know that they were popular after the service ended, with many wanting to speak with them. We celebrated by bringing out a cake with sparklers on it.

Although I'm happy about the success of our support group, I also feel overwhelmed. How long can we continue doing this before it becomes unwieldy? We usually like to have some discussion based on the devotional, but had to forego that today because of lack of time. With ten people in each sharing group, there isn't a lot of time to spare.

I very much want to encourage the formation of more faith-based groups like this and will now have to do some serious work on this. The need is greater than my church and I can respond to adequately. I've decided to write a manual/guide as a tool for churches who wish to do what we have done. But to do a proper job of this I will have to try and get some funding from an organization that shares my vision. I'm working on that.

Please help me pray that I will find a way to spread the Living Room concept to other areas. People who suffer from mood disorders need to have a place where they can get support from others who share their faith in God. It is important to have a place where they discuss both: their mental health issues as well as how God works in their life.

It was wonderful!!

The mental health service at church surpassed my expectations. It was so wonderful that I spent the rest of yesterday in a bit of a daze, trying to process it all, listening to the CD that was made.

The speakers from the Living Room group spoke so openly, so from the heart. And the congregation was warm and welcoming to them. They received a hearty applause. Our pastor presented the sermon part - which was more like a friendly talk - in a compassionate way. He spoke of how we need to look at Jesus in how we live and how we treat others. It wasn't a sad or painful morning at all. All that was discussed was straight forward and honest and natural. There was a wonderful touch of humor here and there. Actually, I felt uplifted by it all and I know others did too. Many stayed behind to talk with the speakers.

The icing on the cake was the performance of Chalexa's song, Redeemed. Chalexa played the piano and Shebee sang. Some of you reading this will remember this song, published on Chalexa's blog a short time ago. I wished then that I could hear it sung and yesterday I got my wish. And the music truly does the words justice. And Shebee is a gifted singer. I wish I could share it here so you could all hear. I do hope Chalexa will write more songs like this, though I know it was born out of pain and I don't wish that for her.

One neat thing: Our pastor Don mentioned how Living Room isn't complete without chocolate. And it's true. Without fail, we have dishes of chocolate on the table at the meetings. We consider it good "medicine." So as people left the sanctuary the pastors' wives served chocolates to them.

As a result of yesterday, a couple of people in the church have indicated they would like to come to the next Living Room meeting. This is the great thing about talking so openly about mental health problems: By making it an ok thing to talk about, those who are suffering feel more free to come out into the open and share with others what they are going through. There is no longer a need to keep their pain to themselves. They no longer need to be alone in their struggles, but can find support from people who care.

This is what reducing stigma can do for people. And reducing stigma is possible. Little by little we can do it.

Mental health week at church

This Sunday's church service is one I very much look forward to. In honor of Mental Health Week (May 7 - 13) our pastor will present a sermon with the title "Out of the Shadows." He will talk about being a caring community for those who are dealing with mental health problems. Three of the members of our Living Room group will talk about their experience with depression and bipolar disorder.

I am so very grateful to have this pastor who has been enthusiastic to learn about mental health problems. He is eager to help in any way he can to provide a church that will give a Christ-like response to those dealing with such problems. Because of his encouragement, and the encouragement of others in the church, Living Room came about and has become a thriving support program, one that is now benefitting over 25 individuals. This support provided me with the courage to facilitate the group.

It is the love and support of this church community, as well as the inspiration provided by Pastor Don's weekly sermons, that encouraged me to write my book, A Firm Place to Stand.

What my pastor and my church, Brentwood Park Alliance Church, is doing to be supportive of people with mental health issues is an example of how well followers of Christ can be of help. For a Christian who struggles with such problems there is nothing as important (next to medication, that is). When I struggle with depression I know there are friends who will be there for me and pray for me. I know they won't be judgmental or say that I'm not right with God. That is great comfort.

If you are reading this and would like to attend our mental health service this Sunday (May 6th) you would be very welcome. The address is 1410 Delta Avenue, Burnaby (close to Brentwood Mall). Service starts at 10:30. And there is no need to dress up.

Grateful

At Living Room yesterday we talked about stigma and how it affects our lives with mood disorders. The discussion time was good. Many of the people around the table had thoughts to contribute. But when I tried to find something hopeful to bring out of the discussion, something upbeat for people to take away with them, I was at a loss for words. I could not express myself in any which way. It was a bit embarrassing.

Gearing up for this Living Room session had been different from the usual as well. Normally I have things I very much want to share, thoughts and feelings that just plunk themselves down in my head about a week before the meeting. Then I can hardly wait for Friday when I have an opportunity to share.

This week was different. And, looking back, I can see that this was an issue I wanted to force into focus. The topic was not God-given. Our pastor has been talking about the Holy Spirit. The spirit was not with me yesterday.

I wish now that I had spent more time focusing on good stuff - positive stuff - the many things we have to be thankful for.

Syd put up a list of 15 things she has to be grateful for. Just reading her list elevated my mood. I found it healing. Susan, on her blog, always talks about the importance of focusing on our wellness rather than our illness. That, too, is far more helpful than focusing on negative issues - especially at a place like Living Room. I want people to go home, having experienced a degree of healing.

Syd's list has inspired me to put up my own list of things I am thankful for. I challenge everyone who reads this to do likewise. It is good medicine.

I am thankful for:

1. My Living Room support group. I'm so happy with its success and the fact that participants are finding it an important part of their wellness plan. Facilitating it is fulfilling and gives me great joy.
2. My husband who has stuck with me through thick and thin, from the beginning of my illness over forty years ago. We love each other dearly and are best friends.
3. The freedom to live without the need to work, something that would be difficult for me.
   
4. The freedom to be creative - to play at my heart's content.
5. The ability, time, and strength to look after the needs of my mother and mother-in-law, both in their nineties.
   
6. My physical health. I'm 61 years old and, as far as I know, there is nothing wrong with me physically. (knock on wood)
7. The love of my friends. (This should probably have gone at the top of the list, but it's early in the morning and I'm not too organized.) I have some truly wonderful friends who I love very much. And love - as the Bible says - is the most important thing of all.
8. I can't think of any material thing I want...right now.
   
9. Although I cycle through many ups and downs, my depressions lately have been mostly mild.
   
10. Medication that works most of the time.
11. Having a book out that is helping people and that the publisher wants to keep in print. I thank God for having given me the ability to write it.
12. Having another book finished, edited and polished, ready for publication. I thank God for inspiring me and keeping my focus strong.
13. My life having come so far since I first became sick and spent nine months in a mental hospital. My medical records show that the staff there did not hold out much hope for me. But I showed them!!
14. The blessings photography have been to me. Photography has given me a form of self-expression and a feeling of accomplishment, leading to good self esteem. It has given me a way to share the joy I find in children.
15. My faith in a God who loves me immeasurably, no matter what.
    

Feeling no shame, in spite of...

At Living Room tomorrow I'm going to open a discussion on stigma and how it has - or has not - affected us. I'm sure everyone will have stories: times they've been hurt or misunderstood.

I've said it before here: stigma is the greatest enemy of those who live with mental illness. I believe that it often causes us greater suffering than the symptoms of our disease. If we were understood and given love and support, our illness would be easier to bear. And if society did not harbor such a stigma, many more would accept the medical care they need. There would be no need hide their suffering.

I came to terms with the stigma element years ago when I decided to come out and write about my bipolar disorder. I don't internalize the stigma; I don't feel shame. At times I notice I'm shunned a bit by others, but it doesn't bother me (I don't think). I accept that this is the way things are...for now. But I won't accept that this is the way it should always be. We have to fight for a change in attitude towards mental illness. Only then will the lives of those who have to live with it improve.

I lost a dear friend when I came out. He thought my illness should remain hidden. It shouldn't be talked about. He now won't speak to me when I see him. He is a wise and loving man otherwise. I guess that's what hurts most. But I'm not sorry for speaking out. He is in the wrong. I know that what I'm doing is helping many.

Neat thing about coming out is that I have nothing to hide. After I started writing about it, my life became - quite literally - an open book. This is very freeing. I've never been sorry about doing that. And I'm grateful that my life situation is such that I can afford to be open. Since I don't have to work I don't have to worry about employers finding out.

Most of the people at my church know that I have bipolar disorder. In spite of that, I have many friends there and receive much love and support. It's good to know I can tell them when I'm not well and ask for prayer. My pastor has done all he can to learn about mood disorders and attends our Living Room group meetings. On May 6th he will give a sermon about mental illness, something he has never done before. If only all church goers who suffer from mental health problems could get this kind of support!

Feeling like doing

I've been trying to focus on doing rather than focusing on my mood but I'm finding the two are so linked it's almost impossible to separate the two.

Today I have a fairly long to-do list. Actually, it's not really that long, but it feels long because I'm rather down. I know I need to whittle it down a bit if I'm going to encourage myself to feel better. And I need to build in some time for things I really enjoy. That would make me feel better too. I need to spend some time with people. That would also make me feel better.

I feel like doing something creative. I have a need for that right now. Yet my chores are getting in the way. That makes me feel a bit frustrated - trapped. When I accomplish something creative I feel better.

I emailed a couple of friends yesterday, telling them about some of my feelings - focusing on feelings. It made me feel better. They are good friends. I know they love me. I am grateful for their love. Being grateful makes me feel better.

I'm constantly aware of my feelings as I work and play. Can't escape it.

Bipolar Wellness Writer says she focuses on wellness. I think I do too. We need to have a positive outlook. But wellness is also a state of mind for a person with a mental disorder. And when you look for wellness and don't find it you feel bad.

Perhaps focusing on hope is the important thing - hope that the feelings you experience will ultimately be good for something - hope that they will help make a better person out of you - hope that you can learn from your struggles and help others somehow.

I don't know whether all this makes sense. I must sound like a nut case here.

But I AM doing. And I AM feeling better. And I AM grateful.

Doing before feeling

It occurred to me this morning that perhaps I spend too much time trying to assess how I feel. I might feel a lot better if I just went about my work and play without thinking about my mood. As I get active my mood will fall into place wherever it will.

I think I've spent too much time over the past couple of years in a relatively high mood. Now all appears gray, because I have a hard time feeling the happiness I've grown accustomed to. And this lack of happiness is making me feel down. I'm not satisfied with this -what might very well be - normal state. And I'm focussing on the mood, rather than just living.

But this seems to become so much a part of our bipolar existence - this thinking about how we're feeling. Surely this isn't a "normal" way to live. Do "normal" people wake up in the morning and think to themselves, Now how do I feel? Am I up or am I down? Don't "normal" people just get up and start thinking of their plans for the day?

Is it healthy to always be so introspective and focus on our feelings?

Living Room recommended

My second post in one day. First time I've done that, but this is less personal in nature.

Yesterday I had a call from a therapist who wanted to know about Living Room, the faith-based support group I facilitate. He wants to send his Christian clients to us because so often they feel that being depressed means that they're bad Christians. They also don't want to take medication. Living Room is a Christian group that draws from the Bible and recognizes the medical nature of mood disorders.

This points out once more how important faith-based support is. I'm delighted that a health professional is recommending our group. Delighted and - the more this sinks in - enthused. Yes...me...enthused. I have much to be grateful for. And Living Room has given me nothing but joy.

Every day is new

You may think this a rather trite thing to say, but we can't take for granted the gift each new day is for us. It's amazing how much difference a day can make in my mood. Each morning I wake up and wonder, 'What will this day bring? Will this be the day that my mood will shift?'

I begin the morning hopefully, often starting my journal entry with: "This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." I write this even when I don't feel like rejoicing, hoping that writing those words will somehow help me feel joy - remembering the days when those words used to automatically come to my lips - days when I was hypomanic. I long for that enthusiasm and am sure this positive approach is helpful.

I've been trying to plan my days a little more, putting more things on my to-do list. Not too many, but enough so that I have some activities to look forward to - some chores and some fun things. That takes away some of the aimless feelings that create a sense of hopelessness. I look forward to the day.

Friends have been praying for me, knowing that I've been having a bit of a roller coaster struggle. I know it's helping. Their prayers are encouraging me to trust God as I pass through this gray time, patiently awaiting the time when my enthusiasm will return. I myself am encouraged to pray. And with prayer comes a feeling of peace of hopefulness.

Time to play

A few days ago - in one of my negative moods - I questioned whether it was worthwhile spending time on photography. I didn't think my work had much benefit for others. It seemed like such an insignificant thing to do when my whole focus had been to change the way society thinks about mental illness. My husband calls me a bore. I've had a one track mind too long I guess. Yet it was hard to get up the desire to play with photography again.

But over the past few days my feelings about this have been changing. A friend has asked me to hang some photos in her coffee shop, Pegster's on Lonsdale in North Vancouver. Today a friend and I went there for lunch and to check out the wall space. Although I'd been in the shop before, I hadn't been there during business hours. What a thriving place it is! And what a warm and friendly ambience! It occurred to me that by hanging my pictures there I would have an opportunity to contribute to that. My photography would be very worthwhile. I don't care if they don't sell or if I don't get business out of it. I'm not interested in that right now. I just want people to get enjoyment from my work.

I've decided to work on the theme of "We All Are Children." It would include mostly pictures of children, but also a few of older people. The wall space is small, only room for about five prints. But I plan to hang six large ones in one of the windows: three facing out and three facing in. The ones facing out could include pictures of children engaged in eating or drinking - fun shots, pictures that make you want to take a second look. I'll attach a couple here. The large ones facing inside could be of a more serious nature. The wall will include small but happy pictures.

So tonight I will play my music loud (thank goodness my husband is out) and I will play with pictures. Photography has the power to heal, as writing does. And I can always use some healing.

What joy!

Yesterday we had a meeting of our Living Room support group. And once more, as always, I had such a wonderful feeling after - a quietly joyful feeling (I like to call it "holy joy"). And that feeling is still somewhat with me, though of course, gradually fading. But I'm happy and positive and I value that, especially after some of the hard times I've had recently.

Twelve of us were in attendance. I don't know if I've ever described our setting here so will do it here: We try to make things as warm and cozy as we can, though we meet in a big church hall. We place three long tables together to make a square table, cover it with a table cloth and place a candelabra with four candles in the center. Everyone helps themselves to lunch as they arrive then sit at the table and visit until the meeting is ready to begin. There are always dishes of chocolates handy. Yesterday we munched on Kisses: milk chocolate and "healthy" dark chocolate ones.

We start out with prayer, then discuss something that arises from Scripture - some topic that has a bearing on what we experience with our moods - often the Psalms (because I believe David was one of us). Yesterday we discussed love and whether we're able to give and receive love when we're depressed. I was pleased because almost everyone contributed to the discussion - even our pastor, Don, someone who usually tries to keep a low profile.

Then, after a break and helping ourselves to more food, we split into two groups where members have an opportunity to talk about what is happening in their lives and any struggles they might be having. At the end we pray for each individual present.

Living Room is a safe, loving, Christian place for people to receive encouragement and find out they're not alone. I'm very happy with how my dream is turning out and want to encourage other churches to offer this kind of self-help group. It's a great way for churches to do something to support those with mood disorders.

This weekend I will work on an article about Living Room for BC Christian News, a paper that goes to all the churches in this area.

Love: the bread of life...and health

Psychiatrist Harold Koenig, in his book, New Light on Depression, wrote: "Love - unconditional love - is the ultimate long-term antidote for depression, for at its core love is connected with faith and hope."

I've liked that statement ever since I first read it. I have found out how important it is to have the love and support of my friends when I go through hard times. What I haven't always thought of is that giving love is just as important. It's when we give that we stop being victims. When we give we gather strength and renewed hope.

Love means everything to our well-being. It is the very food of life. We can withstand a lot if we know we are loved and prayed for. And if receiving love helps us survive, then giving love helps us thrive. The Bible says that God does not simply love us, he IS love. No wonder love is so important to us.

In his book, Soul Cravings, Erwin McManus writes: "Love is ever expanding. Love always grows, not just deeper, but wider. Love always loves people more and always loves more people. Love calls us to community; love calls us to humanity; love calls us to each other...It was no one less than Jesus who said the proof of God is found in our love for one another."

The power of moods

Going through the endless ups and downs I've been experiencing lately I have come to, once more, realize what a powerful effect our moods have on our lives. I've only had several black days but many rather downish days. My current life is painting quite a clear picture of what happens to my ability to function as a result of my moods.

Over the past while I haven't felt motivated to be as active as I normally am. I've also spent much time ruminating, thinking endlessly, yet doing little. I've kept up with what I absolutely have to do though, making simple meals, cleaning the kitchen when the mess becomes unbearable. I've thankfully met my commitments.

But today I went to the gym and my workout had a wonderful effect on me. I came home energized, my more normal self. What a wonderful feeling! I wonder if that's here to stay a while? I must get busy and make the most of it.

I don't know what I'm trying to get at here, except that I can see my life as a painting with many different colors: some are dark and dreary, some boring, some passionate and exciting.

The control these moods have on me continues to amaze me. I can't will myself out of the dark or the gray. And try as I may to hang on to the light, it eventually escapes me.

So how can I use these colors and make a beautiful picture out of the whole? How can I use the combination of moods God gives me to create something good?

I just know that I need to be thankful for all I'm given, because everything - the dark AND the light make me what I am. I will be a painting with a full tonal range - a rainbow of many different colors. And there's a richness in that.

In a spring garden

My husband and I took my mom-in-law to Minter Gardens, a large garden about 1 1/2 hours outside Vancouver. It's a bit early for tulips here, but there were a few. I found this one growing all by itself. I liked it because of its interesting colors. I liked it because its petals grow open, like wings. I never used to like tulips too much. Found their stems too formal - too straight up and down. But this one is different. It's more natural - more child-like perhaps?

Waiting game

What Amateur Dancer said in her comment on my last post is true. I AM having to play a bit of a waiting game right now.
I saw my counselor yesterday and she told me that a big part of my problem right now is the fact that I have lost my clear focus, my big purpose - the book. It's presently on the shelf, waiting for a publisher to show interest. I feel disconnected from it. It is no longer a breathing entity in my life. It has been sewn up. I can no longer feed it or make it grow. It is a loss, she told me, that I will have to take some time to grieve over. She instructed me not to start on anything new for now, but just to come to terms with my feelings about all this.

Yet ideas are simmering on the back of the stove. I can't help feeling creative. I appreciated Dancer's and Dream Writer's suggestions to create a book of photographs. It is something I've worked toward in the past but not something I think I'd be able to find a publisher for. But perhaps I could self-publish, using a print-on-demand publisher. I'll see.

In the meantime, I would like to play with some of my photos by putting them online here. I've been away from photography for so long and it would be good to rekindle my interest in it.

Today there are so many things I would love to share here. I'm reading a good book by Erwin McManus called Soul Cravings: wonderful stuff about love and destiny. Some very insightful thinking on big topics. Today I could sit here and write post after post. I do need to work on another book or booklet, don't I? I've got to do something with all this stuff.

I'm not good at waiting.

Up and down I go

It seems as if every experience with episodes is unique. I don't think I've ever had the kinds of ups and downs I have had recently. I go from a normal state one day to being stuck in a dark pit the next. Don't know what to make of it but know I need to remember that every day is a new one. Yesterday I was ready to throw in the towel; this morning I was making plans for a new creative project. I've learned that I must take advantage of motivation when it comes to me - do when I can do and value that time. I long ago learned not to take my well times for granted.

Part of my problem, I'm sure, has been that I no longer have a book to pour all this into. For over two years the book allowed me to make something good come out of the bad. As I went through whatever mood was upon me I wrote about it and about what helped me cope - in an inspirational way, in hopes of encouraging bipolar readers. My suffering had a purpose and that made it bearable.

But this morning I thought more about an idea that has been a glimmer in the back of my mind. I'm thinking of producing inspirational booklets for people with depression. Don't know exactly how I'm going to do it or what will go into it. I do know I'd like to include black and white photographs - black and white being my favorite medium. This would be a way of combining the two loves of my life, photography and writing. The ideas are happily simmering in my mind. They give me a hopeful feeling, a bright feeling.

This is how my creativity comes about - out of the black times. Guess depression IS good for something, isn't it? After the winter, new fresh growth for the spring. How beautiful!

Happy Easter time everyone!!

Good support

I've been feeling very subdued - spiritual - looking for something good, something creative to bring forth from the unbalanced times I'm going through. I want to learn from what I'm experiencing, something of value that I can share with others. This is all I feel up to right now. I don't feel I can or want to rush around and be busy as I normally am. I am afraid of getting busy, afraid I won't be able to handle it. So I putter, reading and writing.

I was looking through a wonderful book by David B. Biebel and Harold Koenig: New Light on Depression. In it the authors describe the best kind of ally a person with depression could have. This person would say in words and action:

"I love you, and there's nothing you could do or say that would change that. I am with you now, and I'll be with you as long as you need me. I believe in you. I know that your depression has placed a great chasm between the person you really are and the person you feel you are. But I will try to help you bridge that gap with love--mine and God's--for he loves you and believes in you too. We three are in this together--you, me, and God. And when this is over, together we'll find a way to use the pain to help others."

I am so fortunate to have an ally like that, a godly woman, a loving woman. She will be away for a long time, but we are keeping in touch - somewhat. And I thank God for her. And when I am stronger I hope I will be able to offer this kind of love to others.

Koenig and Biebel go on to say: "Love--unconditional love--is the ultimate long-term antidote for depression, for at its core love is connected with faith and hope."

Blessings

Although I trust God and have a deep faith, the reasoning part of me still often finds it hard to believe that prayer actually works. I know that is something I should - as a Christian - be ashamed to admit. But in all honesty - and I do like to be honest - I'm a bit of a doubting Thomas where prayer is concerned. Yes, I pray, but I know I would pray a lot more if I believed more in its power.

However, I'm sure the prayers of my friends is helping to see me through the dark times I've been facing lately. I feel it.

I've had some black times recently. On Thursday I didn't know what to do with myself, everything was so dark. I called my pastor's wife and talked with her a bit. She prayed for me. After we hung up I felt better. Yesterday a good friend promised to pray for my blackness to turn to light. She wrote some words of encouragement in her email to me. I was tremendously comforted and today feel a wonderful sense of peace. I sense God's love deeply and all I want to do now is to pass on this love to others. I feel a quietness - a holy joy - gratitude.

I guess it's a bit early to say whether my depression has cleared up. This has been a strange period of deep depression, interspersed with normal times. Don't know if this has ever happened before to me. I know I've done all I personally can to hold this beast at bay. I've searched out friends, I've gone to God, I've exercised, I'm taking prozac. Is this what happens when a person employs good coping strategies? Is this what happens when friends pray?

All I can say about this right now is "Thank you, dear friends! Thank you, God!"

A new day

Although the last couple of days were a struggle, today began well and continues going well. I had my company and we had a good time talking about our lives. She did her cross-stitching while I knitted a dishcloth. There is something very natural and comfortable about two women visiting while doing handwork...more relaxing than sitting across from each other with nothing to do but talk. Later her husband and my husband joined us for lunch.

It may seem weird to say, but we are so fortunate to have a new day open up to us after each night of sleep. A new opportunity to start afresh. A rested body and mind - a healthier mental state.

Last night - such a short time ago - I was terribly tired and miserable. I meditated on Jesus' words from Matthew 11:28. I bathed my mind in the words: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdend, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." After some time, I did feel rested. And with this rest came peace of mind.

And now, as we near the end of the day, I am thankful to have felt so normal - so undepressed. I am thankful for my time with friends and the energy to be a good hostess.

Today's visitor provided me with another candle. Tomorrow I light another one. My mother is coming to spend a couple of nights with us. It will be stressful but I will try to make the time an enjoyable one for her. I'll try to relax.

A most amazing thing!

I went for a good long walk with a friend who is also experiencing depression. It was the first dry day of the month. The skies were still cloudy, but bright.

We talked lots, even praying for a while as we walked. Part of our walk took us through forest. We admired the beautiful green of the moss and the skunk cabbage growing in a ditch. My friend was tempted to feel the temperature of the rushing stream we passed. We laughed as she almost fell in.

A most amazing thing happened: When I came home I felt rejuvenated, the cobwebs in my brain had cleared. I felt more alive than I have in a long while. Over the past few hours I haven't felt depressed. What a relief!

I've heard many times about the value of walking to a depressed person, but never thought the effects could be so dramatic...or is the prozac starting to push me into mania? Don't think it would happen after only four days though.

I thank God for today's brightening of my spirits. And now I have another coping strategy I will take a lot more seriously. I have another tool. I will make walking part of my wellness plan.

At peace

Living Room was wonderful yesterday - fifteen in attendance, including Vicki Rogers, Educational Director for the Mood Disorders Association of BC. She told us about MDA's interesting history - an inspiring story. I told my story about how lighting my metaphorical candle is helping me cope with my depression. This led to some discussion, though I always wish for more discussion than we end up with. Makes me think: do I talk too much? After the break, some worked on creating collages while the rest of us had our usual talk session.

My candle - which was the process of preparing for Living Room - did remain lit since I wrote my last post. It gave me a feeling of peace and the quiet energy and motivation I needed. Thank God for Living Room!

I know I have depression, though I'm not sad or "in the dumps." I only feel tired and tend to sit for long periods thinking and thinking. This makes it hard to get motivated to do the things I need to do.

But I have lit another candle. I've invited a friend who needs a break from home to come next Wednesday morning, bringing her needlework. While she works on that, I'll knit a dishcloth. It will be a fine visiting time with someone I'd like to get to know better. I'm aiming at making lunch for her as well. By the light of this candle I will prepare, cleaning the house a little at a time. It's good to have things to look forward to.

A spark in the dark

Monday was a dark day, mostly spent in bed. But yesterday morning, though it started out dark, I was able to ignite a spark in that darkness. This small spark led to a good day.

I needed to go to Costco to buy some things and thought of a friend who has been busy and can't drive, wondering if I could pick up something for her. This desire to do something for someone else, though only a tiny thing, made me feel a little more motivated - more energized. It took me out of the self-absorption that is so much a part of depression. It created a small spark in my darkness. This shopping trip would be more meaningful than if it were only for me. As it turned out, my friend wasn't home and nothing came of it.

But on my way to Costco I thought of this spark. Its value had made a big impression on me. I could share how this spark helped me in the devotional at Living Room on Friday. In spite of my depression, I could talk about this with some enthusiasm. I WOULD be able to lead. I DO have something of value to offer. I thought of how I could spend the next week creating more sparks, more ways to do things for others, more ways to bring light into the darkness. Deciding to develop a devotional around this topic created yet another spark, one that managed to light a candle.

My candle stayed lit the rest of the day and continues at this moment as I share its light with you.

I'm not able to do too much, find myself lost in thought a lot, finding it hard to move, but I am at peace. I know how great God's love is and will continue trying to share this love with others.

There is a great truth in these words from Isaiah 58:10:

"...if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday."

Not in gear after all

After many little recent glitches, I guess I've hit a true depression after all. It feels very much like a physiological thing: poor appetite, poor sleeping, and my whole body feels weary. I had promised I would look at everyone's blogs the way I normally like to, but when I tried I found I couldn't focus. I'll probably start on prozac today. Yesterday I saw my pdoc and I told him I wanted to use my own coping strategy instead of meds, but today I can see I do need medical help.

The worst of this is the feeling of shame and guilt that comes along with this thing. Worries that I won't be able to follow through on my commitments, or that I'll make a big mess of them. And the crazy thing - as you all know - is that while we bipolars are up we get ourselves into making a lot of commitments.

But I must keep trying to crawl out of this hole. I mustn't give up. One foot ahead of the other.

Living Room meets this Friday. Although I still look forward to it - need it more than ever now - I don't know if I should lead.

Back in gear

I haven't posted for almost a week and I haven't visited anyone's blogs for as long - and I very much need to and want to get back in gear.

I've had a busy week, not at all normal - though my times are seldom "normal". But I want to get back to routine. I want to talk to all of you again. I need to express what goes on in my mind: my sadness, my joys, my pain, frustration, and sources of hope and inspiration.

With my book finished, zipped shut, not accepting any more thoughts, I feel a bit at a loss. What am I going to pour myself into now? My book has given me a way of using my struggles to do something good. I've written about them in a way that will - hopefully - help others. Knowing that I might be helping others makes my fluctuating emotions easier to bear. I've had a place to share what is important to me. I've been feeding a grand vision: to reduce stigma and support people who are bipolar by writing my story. Now all I can do is wait until I find a publisher. That waiting will be hard to do. I'm not good at waiting. I'm a doer.

But my blog is here; and all of you are here - and for that I'm very happy.

I need to catch up with what all my blogging friends have been up to and how they're feeling. So that's what I will do this weekend. I'm sorry I've ignored you so long.

Thank God!

Thank God, I did pull out of that two-week down time! I was so worried it was the beginning of something big, but it was just another little blip. At times like this, I wonder though: how much of my surfacing back to the stable old me was because of the strategies I employed? How much depression can we avoid by taking steps before it gets too deep to extract ourselves?

I just know that on the night I contacted everyone to remind them of the Living Room meeting, my mood elevated significantly. I enjoyed talking a bit to everyone. After that, tears no longer threatened. On Friday we had a record turnout of sixteen people. How good it is to see such enthusiasm in the group! Unfortunately I was sick with a bad cold that day and could only be there for an hour, but my co-facilitator took good care of things, with many hands to help her.

My book proposal is ready to present to publishers and I will put it online as soon as the final two chapters have been edited - within the week. Very exciting!

In reading one of the finished and polished chapters today, I felt a tremendous sense of peace come over me. The story is a good one. It should inspire and help others have faith in God's love and power. The story I tell is how a very sick young person found faith in God and was gradually transformed into a person who is - for the most part - joyful and grateful to be alive. It is truly amazing where God has taken me since those early years when I spent nine months in a mental hospital. For twenty-five years I was thought to be schizophrenic and received only anti-psychotic drugs - no mood stabilizers.

I've been through a lot, but am not sorry for it. God is the great Potter and I am the clay. I believe he had a reason for making me the way he did. And he carries on shaping me into the kind of person he wants me to be. I am willing to do what he calls me to do - to be soft clay in his great and loving hands.

I'm feeling somewhat prayerful tonight - thankful. Guess you can tell?

Waiting

First of all, I want to tell you I'm not doing badly - not good, but not badly either.

In my last post I raised the topic of waiting - waiting for depression to lift. Although I love the Bible and try to live by it, it does in places make waiting seem rather simple. My favorite Psalm 40 says: "I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry." It misses the torturous feelings that come with that waiting.

In reading Nelson Mandela's account of his experience with solitary confinement, it struck me that depression is very similar. It is an emotional solitary confinement, but probably just as torturous. Mandela said, "The mind begins to turn in on itself, and one desperately wants something outside of oneself on which to fix one's attention. I have known men who have taken half-a-dozen lashes in preference to being locked up alone."

Mandela found relief whenever an insect came from the crack in the floor. It gave him something to focus on, something to take him out of his self-consumed state.

I think that's the way it is for us too when we're depressed. We need simple little things to draw us back into the world. I've found relief in simple things - usually things of a physical nature to draw me out of my dead emotional world: A nice hot bath, a glass of bubbly 7up or mug of sweet hot chocolate, begging a hug from a dear friend (if there's no friend available, pretending my pillow is her is better than nothing. I hug my pillow)

Dream Writer said how important it is to write. The medicinal value of writing out our feelings is such a mysterious thing, yet so very strong. My journal has become a place where I seek comfort. This blog is where I reach out to others. Writing takes us out of ourselves and helps us make sense of our feelings. It helps us work things out. It takes the worries and pain out of our minds and dumps them onto a page. I pray much better in writing than I do with spoken words. There is so much more certainty in it. David found that in his Psalms. They, too, were prayers.

"How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? ...But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me." Psalm 13:1-2, 5-6.

I talked my pdoc into not starting me on antidepressants. They're too dangerous for me because they might cause me to go manic....and I'm not that bad. I may pull out soon. I have many strategies at my disposal to deal with this. This morning I will go for a workout. I will putter at things, focusing on things that give me satisfaction, talking with friends....writing.

Hard to believe it could happen

When everything is going well - as it usually does for me nowadays - it's hard to believe that I could ever become depressed again. Yet, it can happen, and does happen, and here I am, depressed again.

Signs began appearing a couple weeks ago. I was easily moved to tears, sometimes a deep sadness coming from nowhere. Yesterday I talked to a friend. She noticed something before I did. I was very quiet, something I didn't notice myself. And later on - sure enough the old feelings I know so well but had forgotten are back. I now don't feel like doing much. I don't feel like cooking dinner and I'm irritable.

But - as I've learned and am teaching others about going through this - I mustn't ask "why?" but "to what end". This must be good for something. I know going through this is supposed to make me a stronger, more compassionate person in the end. But can I make use of this as I'm going through this somehow? Must I wait till I come out the other end? I hate wasting time! I hate doing nothing! I hate waiting! I hate the feeling bad about myself that comes with this!

...and I think of Living Room coming up this Friday. What kind of devotional am I going to share? Can I bring something of what I'm going through into the presentation?...something useful...something I could not share otherwise (without being in a depression).

What brings brightness into this dark place I'm in right now is the thought that it might be useful somehow: fodder. My head feels like it clicks into gear a bit.

I had been thinking of meditating on a couple of Psalms with the group. David wrote so many Psalms where he was in deep emotional pain, only to surface at the end as he thought of God's presence and love. That's exactly what makes the Psalms so powerful: the contrast between David's ups and downs and the hope he found in staying close to God. Perhaps I should write some Psalms too.

I must say though, this isn't really what you'd call suffering yet. I've only taken the initial big dip. Hope I'm not premature with this sob story. I speak mostly out of fear and knowledge of what has happened in the past. I must hope and pray I can pull out quick. If I try to make some use out of this - as I did in the writing of my books - will it be easier to deal with?

Getting busy

Although I'm not hypomanic, I have gotten myself into an awful lot of projects and work lately. I wonder why I always do that? Even when my mood is normal I like to take on a lot of stuff. Last week I suggested a fundraiser cookbook for my church. We badly need to replace the roof and it's a lot of money for a small congregation like ours to raise. So I had the wonderful idea to produce a community cookbook: Recipes from Many Nations. This won't be your run-of-the-mill church cookbook. This will involve the whole community.

This is exciting. But, what with tying up the loose ends of my book, finding a publisher, facilitating the support group, looking after mom and mom-in-law, and my household, it is a lot of stuff. This cookbook will be a responsibility. And I'm not one to do things half-heartedly. I'm perfectly able to handle everything now, but am worried what would happen if I were to go into a depression. I'm trying to find a right-hand person to work with me so the project will be safe, even if I do flounder.

This is one of the most frustrating thing about living with bipolar. You never know where your mood is going to be. You never know if you can count on yourself. I'm a responsible person. I've accomplished a lot. I get things done. When I'm stable I see no reason not to trust myself. Yet you never know...

But today I'm well and strong, doing one thing at a time and I'm grateful for that. Each morning I will pray, asking God to continue giving me strength and courage to do all he has led me to do. I will trust in him and take one day at a time.

Weekend extra on depression

Continuing on with my news about the publicity I got in the Vancouver Sun newspaper:

This is an absolutely fantastic job the paper is doing in their three-part report on depression - and not just because they featured me. There is big front page attention plus a two page spread in each paper. This is truly a wonderful stigma buster!

I've photographed the two pages with my pictures from the Friday edition and will post them here. The inside shot of me makes me look awful - depressed, though I wasn't. But I guess it gets the point across. The other picture I'm sharing here is from the Saturday paper, featuring Greater Vancouver's Roman Catholic archbishop and the story of his depression.

Sorry, I didn't know how to compose the pictures on the page so they look better.

I hit the front page!

This morning I couldn't believe it when I opened the paper I saw that my photo ended up on the front page - big! Inside are two full pages with information about depression...and another photo of me - rather unflattering, but I guess a good description of what depression feels like.

What I said in the interview was interspersed with info and other people's quotes in a big article. This is a huge stigma buster. Very informative. I am - as you can well imagine - excited and happy. This should get my book into a lot more people's hands.

Here's the link: http://www.canada.com/vancouversun/index.html

It's not working as a link. Perhaps if you type it in it will. The front page can be accessed at the bottom left of the page.

Gotta talk to someone

My husband calls me insecure, and maybe I am. I get into states where I've simply got to talk to my friends. It's so hard not to, even though I've bothered them enough. Calling every day gets a bit much, don't you think?

But I've been having brief periods of down-ness. And when I'm down I don't want to withdraw, I just need to talk. My river has to flow.

So here I am again, needing my friends. I'm glad for this blog: a place to connect with people without bothering anyone who I shouldn't bother.

I'll be glad when today is over and I can sleep and wake to a new day. Tomorrow will be a busy one: Living Room day. I'm looking forward to it. Our discussion will be about the value of suffering. My pastor calls pain the gift no one wants, but one that is a gift nevertheless. Pain does so much to strengthen character. People who have suffered know a lot more about life than those who have it easy. I've never had it easy, yet I'm pretty sure that is the case.

Suffering is one of my favorite topics to read about. So much has been written about it and there's so much evidence that those who suffer and overcome have much to offer. Much has been written in the Bible about suffering. The Bible talks about knowing Christ and "the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings." I'm learning to share my pain with Christ. I'm learning to see my pain as his pain and his pain as my pain. I'm together with Jesus in my pain. I meet him in a very special way.

Interesting how so many Christians still think that good Christians should not suffer. They think that a Christian who suffers must have sinned or something. So many form their own ideas without reading the Bible with an open heart and mind. They overlook so much of scripture. They see only what they want to see.

Tomorrow may be an exciting day. It may be the day my article will be in the paper. I'm so curious to read what the columnist has said about me. Just hope it's positive, because I'm a pretty positive person and believe in hope. But the interview went so fast, I would have liked more time to express what I'm really all about. But he had fixed questions he wanted me to answer - didn't let me have my way with him the way I would have liked, though I tried....We'll see.

I could sit and talk on and on to you, because I am lonely with my thoughts. But I don't want this post to be so long that you won't want to read it, so I will close.

Thank you all for being out there my friends.

Roller coaster excitement

Thank you to all who responded to my last post, joining with me in my excitement. Yesterday was another great day. The Vancouver Sun photographer came to take my picture. To my surprise, he wanted more than a head and shoulder shot. He decided to take me to the rollercoaster nearby and photographed me at the base of it. (For a while I wondered if he wanted me to take a ride on it, which would have scared me silly, but thank goodness it doesn't run this time of year.)

So he took dozens of shots with me holding my Riding the Roller Coaster book. Now that was really exciting. That book has been out for almost eight years, and now it's getting fresh attention. How lucky can an author get!

I called my publisher and told him. He was excited as well and will probably get the marketing department to try and get copies on the store shelves again. Very neat!

This article will be for a weekend special on depression so should be quite prominent in the paper. So good for getting the word out there about depression! So good as a stigma buster! Don't you find mental illness is being talked about more than it used to be?

The Vancouver Sun is the biggest newspaper in British Columbia and a lot of it is online. I imagine this story will be too. I will publish a link to the article to share it with you when it comes out.

In the evening I tried to come down off the mountaintop by listening to music and ironing. We have a lot more clothes we can wear now.

An altogether neat day.

An interview

Yesterday I got a call from the Mood Disorder Association asking if I would do an interview with a columnist from the Vancouver Sun. Would I ever! Of course, I agreed. An author will accept any opportunity to have her name made public and I love every opportunity to raise awareness about mental health issues.

Within an hour I was on the phone with the columnist. He is doing a three-part series on depression. I don't think he was prepared to be talking about bipolar disorder. He seemed to have only planned to talk about depression. So he asked what I feel like when I'm depressed. I told him a few of the feelings I get, like not being able to see the brilliance of a colorful garden. But then I also told him a few things he wasn't asking about, like the highs and what they do to me. I told him how, the higher my mood goes, the deeper I drop.

The interview went very fast, though we did get a lot talked about. But I would have liked to tell him a lot more. I would have liked to make sure he has lots of good stuff to draw from. So now I wonder what kind of a story he's going to come up with. That's always the danger. It's so easy to be misunderstood by a journalist and have him paint the wrong picture.

Next thing, perhaps, will be to have my picture taken. They may or may not need it.

This was an opportunity I relished and one I hope will repeat itself, especially once my new book comes out.

To feed and to be fed

My last post and the neat discussion it led to has led me to this one: If we are to give, if we are to feed others, we ourselves need to be fed. If we are to listen to others, we also need to have someone listen to us. If we are to give bread, we have to have bread to give.

Many good givers exhaust themselves of resources by not letting others give to them. They're good at what they do, but there are times when they need to allow themselves to receive as well. And it's best for them to receive, not feeling that they're a burden, but with a spirit of gratitude. This is often hard to do, especially for the big givers.

I am a writer. But I can't write well without opening my mind to what others are saying and writing. Reading (feeding myself) is important to me if I am to write (feed others).

I like to help others. I want to love others, as Jesus commanded us to do. But if I am to do that well, I need to feed on God's love. I need to ask God to fill me with his love and then I'm better able to share that love with others. I need to help others; I also need people to help me.

As Dream Writer has alluded to in some of the comments she made on my last post, it takes two kinds of people to make our circle of friendships complete: the ones who we can support and the ones who will replenish us by supporting us. We need to do both: to feed and be fed.

(I hear Dream Writer is going to be writing a book on this topic.:-)

Battles against self-centeredness

At Living Room today we had some very interesting discussion. One thing that had the most impact on me was when someone said how she feels best during depression when she can get away from thinking about herself. When she tries to reach out and show an interest in other people's lives, it's easier to forget her own misery. There is something powerful in the act of giving - and that does not only mean giving things, but giving our attention to other people and their stories.

When we're depressed it's natural to be self-consumed with the misery we feel. In fact people who suffer from almost any illness are in danger of becoming self-absorbed. It's natural for that to happen.

Interestingly, it's not only a depressed mood that will make us self-absorbed. The same holds true for high moods. I know when I'm high and I'm with friends, I'll talk their heads off about all the "wonderful" projects I'm engaged in. I totally forget that they have lives too. I forget to ask how they are doing. I'm so full of myself.

But, when I consciously try, and succeed, in asking my friends about themselves: how they're feeling and what they're doing, something happens that makes me feel better about myself. I've come to appreciate having people trust me enough to tell me their troubles. I like the sense of connection it gives us. It feels good to forget about myself.

It's hard, but I must try constantly, to be more other-centered. The payoff is huge. I feel stronger when I reach out. I feel more well. I don't feel so much a consumer or victim; I'm then a contributor and supporter.

Lying down in a green pasture or?

I have always had trouble with Psalm 23. I can seldom relate to the part where David says that "He makes me lie down in green pastures". It just isn't me. I'm more likely to be one of those sheep that keeps chomping on the green grass, rather than allowing God to make me lie down in it. There's too much to do, too many interesting things I want to accomplish. It's not like me to do nothing - unless I'm depressed. And when I'm depressed those pastures are not very green. They're more like brown, dead grass. Not very pleasant.

But this morning was different. I woke at my usual 6:30 but didn't feel like getting up. I felt tired. I have been deep into my editing work, concentrating hard, doing little else. I was now paying for it.

Eventually I did get up, got my coffee, and went to my usual quiet time place, my big leather chair. There I sat doing nothing for a very long time, just sitting. Usually I read or pray or write. This time I just sat, dozing a bit now and then. And it felt so good. God had made me lie down in a green pasture.

I was somewhat worried though. This kind of sitting and mulling often signal the beginning of a depression, especially if I've been high for a while, which I might have been.

But in this relaxed time something neat happened. God floated down ideas to me for two things I've been having difficulty with: what to talk about at Living Room on Friday, and what to write for my final wrap-up of the book. These were both things that had been bothering me considerably. I started writing. And everything came together. That down time really paid off. What gifts!

So the rest of the day, though I still felt somewhat tired, I've been on a bit of a high - not a low at all. So where am I going now? Will the tiredness pull me down to the pasture with the dead grasses? Or will I be able to stay on the green? Is it in my hands at all to determine which way I will go? Can I avoid depression by doing the right things? If I have indeed been high (which I might very well have been) can I somehow arrange my activities so I will stay in that green pasture?

All I can do, I guess, is to live each day as it comes, trusting in God, letting him lead me. He is my shepherd.

Out of the mud

I was meditating tonight, thinking of the blogging friends I've made who are going through hard times right now. I want to share something. I want to pass along some hope, hope I know is there for you on the other side of the dark. I'll try to do this without giving a sermon.

It was not until I was 42 when I first believed in God. Before that I had tried to survive my illness using my own willpower, not trusting anyone but myself. Many times I had to hang on for dear life, my sanity threatened. The time eventually came that I knew I needed to explore what God was all about. I yearned for someone I could trust, someone greater than me, someone who would catch me if I fell.

But didn't I tell this story only a few posts ago?

Anyway, you need to know about David, the psalmist. I like to tell my Living Room support group that, if David were living today, he might want to be a member of our group. David had very strong moods. In fact - though some Christians would faint at me saying this - I believe he might very well have been bipolar. He was a poet, a musician, a great leader. He was one of us!

David wrote a psalm that is very close to my heart. It describes so perfectly what has happened to me. I recently found out that U2 have a song based on this psalm:

I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. (Psalm 40)

So all you guys who're in that slimy pit right now! Try to be hopeful and patient. God can and will lift you out. You'll have a new song to sing. I'm praying for you.

Grinding away

Over the past several days I've had my nose to the proverbial grindstone, editing my book. The end of this big project is in sight, though there is still much work to do before it's where I want it to be. This is SO exciting.

I'm amazed at how focused I've been and wonder now and then whether I might be getting a bit high on all this. Have had some pretty early mornings lately, waking up at 5am or even earlier. But last night was good. I was able to sleep to my normal 6:30.

Hypomania has been a mixed blessing that has come upon me frequently over the past couple of years. In fact, it was hypomania that first gave me the inspiration to write this book. I remember how, during those first few months, the ideas flooded in. Not wanting to lose any of my thoughts, I would stop whatever I was doing to write it all down. I wrote in darkened theaters, had to stop my car to write, took breaks in the middle of my workouts to write. I often woke in the middle of the night, ideas tumbling out. I always had a pad of paper and pen handy.

So now, here I am, 26 months later, almost ready to look for a publisher. I pray I will find a good one. This book is important. It will be the best tool I have to help churches understand bipolar disorder. It will help them learn how they can support people with mental health issues.

Having purpose: an overwhelming demand?

At our Living Room group yesterday I introduced the journey we would take, discovering what we're here for - or, our purpose. An interesting discussion ensued with much stuff to think about.

One person raised the concern that the book we'll read, The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren, would be putting too much pressure on us. It sounds to her like the book is going to tell us how to accomplish big and wonderful things. How can we who live with severe mood problems, possibly do that when it's hard enough just getting out of bed to look after our children? Maybe the book will end up making us feel worse about ourselves than we already do.

She has a valid point. Our challenge will be to read this book and get something out of it for the individuals we are at this point of our life. Does life's purpose have to be something grand for everyone? Doesn't the mother looking after her child in the best ways she is able, fulfill a purpose that is as valid as the missionary working in Africa with aids infected mothers and children? We each do what God made us capable of doing. God needs workers in every little corner of the world - in the home as well as in exotic places.

One conclusion we came up with was that one of the things that gives us most fulfillment is to give to others - whatever we can. In an e-discussion I had with my pastor, Don, he said

"While I think there are things we are gifted for and called to do, I try to live every day on purpose from the sense that wherever I am, whatever I'm doing, I simply want to be in some way the presence of Jesus. That may mean being friendly in the restaurant when the waitress is having a bad day and is a bit snarly. Or it may mean holding the door open for a mother with a baby stroller, or helping someone put the 20 kilo bag of flour in their grocery cart. And then sometimes there are bigger things, too.

"I think our purpose is summarized in the Great Commandment - love God completely, love others compassionately, love ourselves correctly."

I think Pastor Don's last line pretty well sums it up.

What are we here for?

I'm excited about the meeting our Living Room group is having tomorrow! We'll be starting a four-session series of discussions: A spiritual journey to discover what we're here for.

Whoever is interested in joining the journey (I suspect it will be everyone) will be reading a chapter a day of Rick Warren's Purpose Driven Life. Then, each meeting we'll get together and compare notes on what we're discovering - what we're learning about the purpose of our lives.

There was a time in my life when I used to hear the words to the old Peggy Lee song repeating themselves in my head: "Is that all there is? Is that all there is?" There didn't seem to much point to my life. But things have changed a lot. I have found a purpose - actually, a whole family of purposes. My life has meaning. I love getting up in the morning; there's so much I enjoy doing.

I think that having a strong sense of purpose for my life - knowing what God made me to do - helps keep me well. I think I'm able to fight off mild depression easier than I used to. Of course, bipolar is a medical illness, and having purpose does not make all my moods magically disappear. But, somehow, I think it helps.

"I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11

I believe that even my strong moods are part of God's plan for me. Without the highs and lows I've experienced I would not be who I am today. I would not be as creative or as passionate. I think I might be quite a bore. I thank God for making me who I am - even if I DO have a mental illness.

Compassionate people?

I'm always angered when I hear stories of "un-compassion" amongst Christians, especially when it is focused on people with mental health problems. Hearing another one today motivated me to write this. I've been wanting to write about love; this is a good time.

For the most part, Christians are a pretty compassionate bunch. They believe in following Jesus' teachings to love your neighbor. And many - probably most - Christians do a good job of that.

But, there are far too many who do forget - especially when they're faced with someone who doesn't fit in with their own familiar circle. They have a hard time accepting someone they don't understand, and they're slow in taking the trouble to learn to understand. They are quick to judge, and slow to show compassion.

Those who believe in the Bible need to take to heart Jesus's words in Matthew 25:35-40:

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me....whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mind, you did for me."

If you are a follower of Christ, please learn what causes the suffering of those many of us who live with mental illness. Please try to understand us and realize that we need your acceptance and love in the same way everyone does.

That lonely person in the pew who looks so unfriendly and unapproachable might need some relief from her aloneness. A friendly smile and warm handshake may be just what she needs to restore her.

May the love of God live in us and flow out to others.