I'm Okay, You're Okay

What better subject for my 100th post than...well, me! It IS my blog, you know ;-) But seriously, I wanted to share with you something that God shared with me that I have been asking Him about for a few months now--my bipolar disorder.

The Set-Up
I've struggled with bipolar in one form or another for the last two years. I believe it was all triggered by my pregnancy with Adriana in 2005. For the most part, I was just your typical over-emotional pregnant woman, crying at auto commercials and hallmark cards. There was quite a bit of stress in even trying to get pregnant with her, and then the last few months of my pregnancy was pretty stressful dealing with a fairly sever case of toxemia. A few days after she was born I wound up back in the hospital for two days with congestive heart failure due to fluid overload. I had 60 pounds of fluid in my body preventing my heart and lungs from working as they should, and they were about to just give up. I think once I was finally able to go home and try to adjust to a newborn is when I snapped. It started out as typical postpartum depression. Then in three months when it hadn't gone away, it started to change. Over night I went from Jekyll to Hyde. I was constantly angry and hateful, with Ben receiving the majority of my hellfire. The things I used to enjoy I no longer had any interest in, and at the worst times, I didn't really even care if my marriage lived or died. For two years I cycled between anger and hate and extreme depression. I just assumed this was a normal adjustment period (after all, this was what my mother and my sister were like with their kids), and I coped with it as best I knew how. Two years of limited contact with God (I couldn't pray hardly at all, and I certainly wasn't hearing from Him in any way), even more limited contact with my husband of 7 years. Two years of agreeing to live only because I couldn't stand the thought of anyone else loving the baby girl I prayed for so long to have. After talking to my sister about her bipolar for quite some time, I decided to make an appointment with my psychiatrist, whom I hadn't seen since he put me on antidepressants 7 years earlier. I gave him the run-down of the last two years and said I thought that I needed to be screened for bipolar. He agreed, and 10 minutes later I had a diagnosis (based on my history and the screen) and a course of treatment.

The Conundrum
Once I started on the medication, it only took about 4 days before I started feeling like my old self again and my topsy-turvy world began to right itself. That's also when the questions started. How did this happen? Why do I have to have this? And the question that has plagued me day and night? How can I be this way and be the Christian I claim to be? The Enemy began to whisper questions and accusations to me. How can you be the uber-Christian you think you are? You've hardly prayed at all in the last two years. And with all that anger and constant snide comments, who are you fooling? You haven't acted any differently than any other unbeliever. Besides...if you have the Holy Spirit like you say you do, shouldn't you be able to control your temper? Because you didn't do a very good job of it. While I finally felt normal again, I was ashamed of my diagnosis. There was still something wrong with me.


The Voice of Truth
I begged God to show me the truth. I needed to know what he thought of me. In His infinite wisdom, He let me struggle with it a little bit. He knew that I needed to trust in the truth even when I didn't know the whole story. His revelation to me on the subject started when my dearest friend Felicia told me, "You may be acting “off”, but you’re asking for prayers and help – your core is intact. He is with you, even when it feels like He’s not." That really started me thinking...and praying. Then yesterday during church, He finally gave me the complete answer. My moods are not me. They are not who I am, nor do they define my spirituality. My moods are not my spirit. They affect them, but they are not them. Because I live in a fallen world, my body began to process of entropy (decay) the day I was born. My body will continue to break down until it no longer exists. My bipolar is no different than, say, my autoimmune thyroid disease or my PCOS. It's no different than someone with heart disease or who is suffering the effects of a stroke. It's all the process of our bodies breaking down. Yes, I know that most of the time things like that happen because of things we do to our bodies. My point is that whatever the situation, our bodies break. Just as my thyroid is slowly destroying itself, my mind is fighting against the rest of my body. I can't will my moods not to swing out of control any more than I can will my ovaries to work or will myself out of a heart attack. This body of mine is breaking down, and my mind is just another facet that is going bad. So what do I do? I take medication to make my mind work correctly. And while I am functioning as I should, I build my spirit, my redeemed spirit, by the Word of God and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. That way when I'm not in my right mind, my Spirit will have something to fight the enemy with. And someday I will have a new body...one not destined to die because of sin. My God is bigger than my thyroid and my PCOS--I have one blessedly sweet girl sleeping soundly in the other room and one growing quietly, but actively in my womb to prove that. He's bigger than those, and He's definitely bigger than my bipolar. So am I.

posted by Brandi at 10:56 AM | 1 comment(s)