I remember the day that I got my first pair of glasses. As I recall, my mother laughed quite hysterically at me that day. I didn't think I even needed glasses. I could read everything just fine. I wasn't getting headaches. The doctor, however, insisted that I had a thing called astigmatism. It wasn't that my vision was blurry as much as it was askew. We left the doctor's office with me still insisting to my mother that those glasses were completely unnecessary, that I could see perfectly without them and that the trained medical professional did not, in fact, know better than an 11 year old child.
But as we drove home, I began to take the glasses off to compare my vision with and without them and I discovered something. I had been compensating for something I didn't even know was wrong. When I took my glasses off, suddenly everything leaned a little to the left and wasn't in crisp focus. That's when I noticed something else - I had developed a habit of leaning my head to the right, which made everything look the way that it should.
It's an odd feeling realizing that what you thought was right and normal isn't at all. Today was another of those days.
Some of you may know this about me. Those of you who don't probably won't be particularly surprised by it. I have dealt with depression as long as I can remember. As a teenager, I stayed home in my room reading or practicing music to escape from reality. Those were the only times I was alone that I didn't feel like crying. I didn't have anything to be that sad about. Life was good. I made good grades, had lots of friends, had a family who loved me. It wasn't until years later that I learned that my mother and both of my grandmothers had similar issues.
After my mother died, things became much, much worse. Before that, I had been able to compensate and hide my problem from nearly everyone. I still didn't know there was a problem. When that's all you've known, it feels normal. You just deal with it. But that was my breaking point. It was just more than I could deal with and I completely broke inside. Eventually, I moved on with life enough to get married and make a life for our family.
Even though things were good for a little while, sooner or later the struggles had to begin. I had never been married before and every relationship I have is wrought with drama and tension. That's normal, right? Again, tilting my head, compensating for a problem I haven't yet discovered.
When I arrived in Pennsylvania a year ago, I did not recognize the person I had become. The girl who once chased down kids fleeing her hotel to avoid being arrested after she broke up the fight (not one of my smarter moments, but an entertaining story nonetheless), was now afraid to leave the house and afraid to be in her own house, startled by every noise, believing that he was coming back to get her. I had adjusted to not sleeping, and when I did sleep, waking with every muscle aching because even in slumber I was tensed and ready to flee. No matter where I was in the house, I had my phone and car keys in my pocket ready to run. That had become my normal.
After a year of being here protected by my dad, I've finally accepted that he's not coming to get me, that I'm safe. With that resolved, I've moved on to fixing other aspects of my life. Some take longer to resolve than others; it's a work in progress. My latest project is my health. Several issues I've been ignoring - none of which I will bore you with - I am finally facing head on. I have accepted that I will probably be on medication for the rest of my life. My body does not produce the correct balance of chemicals to operate properly. Despite what I was taught growing up, that does not mean that I am not close enough to God or that the devil is after me and holding me down or that I'm crazy. Diabetics aren't crazy because their insulin production is incorrect; the other chemicals of the body are no different. So I'm seeing my doctor regularly and getting everything in balance. (Wow, that last sentence sounds like a prescription commercial.) This is good...or is it?
When I woke up this morning, much too early for a day off, I knew something was different. I didn't feel the same, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I proceeded through my day, mentally checking off my to do list. All the while, that nagging thought is in the back of my mind that something is wrong. Suddenly, I realize what it is. I don't feel sad. I don't feel sick. I feel happy and healthy. It had been such a long time - if ever - that I had felt like this, that I didn't even recognize it. Feeling tired and melancholy had become my normal. I thought that's how I was supposed to feel, how I would feel for my whole life. Little did I know that things aren't always that way. God has blessed me with a wonderful doctor who always prays with me and exercises wisdom in treating the whole person, not just symptoms on a chart.
It's going to be an adjustment, this new perception of life. It's hard to accept that the world hasn't changed, only the way that I see it.
Lord, please help me learn how to be happy and content. I'm not used to that and it still feels strange. Teach me to stop struggling and to just rest in You. Life doesn't have to be hard. Overwhelm me with Your peace! Amen.
But as we drove home, I began to take the glasses off to compare my vision with and without them and I discovered something. I had been compensating for something I didn't even know was wrong. When I took my glasses off, suddenly everything leaned a little to the left and wasn't in crisp focus. That's when I noticed something else - I had developed a habit of leaning my head to the right, which made everything look the way that it should.
It's an odd feeling realizing that what you thought was right and normal isn't at all. Today was another of those days.
Some of you may know this about me. Those of you who don't probably won't be particularly surprised by it. I have dealt with depression as long as I can remember. As a teenager, I stayed home in my room reading or practicing music to escape from reality. Those were the only times I was alone that I didn't feel like crying. I didn't have anything to be that sad about. Life was good. I made good grades, had lots of friends, had a family who loved me. It wasn't until years later that I learned that my mother and both of my grandmothers had similar issues.
After my mother died, things became much, much worse. Before that, I had been able to compensate and hide my problem from nearly everyone. I still didn't know there was a problem. When that's all you've known, it feels normal. You just deal with it. But that was my breaking point. It was just more than I could deal with and I completely broke inside. Eventually, I moved on with life enough to get married and make a life for our family.
Even though things were good for a little while, sooner or later the struggles had to begin. I had never been married before and every relationship I have is wrought with drama and tension. That's normal, right? Again, tilting my head, compensating for a problem I haven't yet discovered.
When I arrived in Pennsylvania a year ago, I did not recognize the person I had become. The girl who once chased down kids fleeing her hotel to avoid being arrested after she broke up the fight (not one of my smarter moments, but an entertaining story nonetheless), was now afraid to leave the house and afraid to be in her own house, startled by every noise, believing that he was coming back to get her. I had adjusted to not sleeping, and when I did sleep, waking with every muscle aching because even in slumber I was tensed and ready to flee. No matter where I was in the house, I had my phone and car keys in my pocket ready to run. That had become my normal.
After a year of being here protected by my dad, I've finally accepted that he's not coming to get me, that I'm safe. With that resolved, I've moved on to fixing other aspects of my life. Some take longer to resolve than others; it's a work in progress. My latest project is my health. Several issues I've been ignoring - none of which I will bore you with - I am finally facing head on. I have accepted that I will probably be on medication for the rest of my life. My body does not produce the correct balance of chemicals to operate properly. Despite what I was taught growing up, that does not mean that I am not close enough to God or that the devil is after me and holding me down or that I'm crazy. Diabetics aren't crazy because their insulin production is incorrect; the other chemicals of the body are no different. So I'm seeing my doctor regularly and getting everything in balance. (Wow, that last sentence sounds like a prescription commercial.) This is good...or is it?
When I woke up this morning, much too early for a day off, I knew something was different. I didn't feel the same, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I proceeded through my day, mentally checking off my to do list. All the while, that nagging thought is in the back of my mind that something is wrong. Suddenly, I realize what it is. I don't feel sad. I don't feel sick. I feel happy and healthy. It had been such a long time - if ever - that I had felt like this, that I didn't even recognize it. Feeling tired and melancholy had become my normal. I thought that's how I was supposed to feel, how I would feel for my whole life. Little did I know that things aren't always that way. God has blessed me with a wonderful doctor who always prays with me and exercises wisdom in treating the whole person, not just symptoms on a chart.
It's going to be an adjustment, this new perception of life. It's hard to accept that the world hasn't changed, only the way that I see it.
Lord, please help me learn how to be happy and content. I'm not used to that and it still feels strange. Teach me to stop struggling and to just rest in You. Life doesn't have to be hard. Overwhelm me with Your peace! Amen.
A good read. Thanks for sharing.
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