Never judge until you've been there. It's just good common sense. I, for one, used to do a smirky eye roll when folks in the news "got God" after discovering they had a major illness. I used to think to myself that it was too bad they didn't find Him before then. It seemed to me that if we all got a little God in our lives on a regular basis maybe the transition between good and hard times wouldn't be so bumpy.
No so, my friend. Boy, was I wrong.
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Not just figuratively either. My head was spinning, everything ached and my brain felt like it was being pushed through a juice press. The result was a way-to-early morning followed by a major bout of blues. Now, I am not normally a depressed person. I get a little impatient with people when they say they just don't even want to roll out of bed. It always seemed to me that getting out of bed and facing the day would be just what they needed. Like I said, don't judge until you're in the mire with them.
I blubbered. And cried. And felt altogether sorry for myself. I didn't want to get the laundry done, the bathrooms cleaned or the dishes washed, but apparently I needed to get the weepy gunk out of my system. The transition to normal healthy, to abnormal is a rocky road. What does it feel like? Let me enumerate what's going on in my head...
It's dark. It's lonely and feels as if the world has moved on without me. I don't want to get out of bed, but it hurts, physically, to be in bed. I feel like throwing up, but I know that if I do, it'll make the spinning worse. I want to sleep but can't. I'm tired, achy and sore everywhere. I don't want to face the day. I don't want to face tomorrow or the next, because I feel incredibly stuck.
The space in my head can get scary dark.
How do you feel less alone? How can you cope?
I've always had a loving Heavenly Father in my life. I've always known he was there. I say my prayers and I go to church (and I do love it too). Where is God in all this?
He's there. In my darkest night, He comforts. Why? Because He is the ultimate loving parent. Think of it; the all knowing, all powerful creator of the universe cares about the most insignificant human on earth as a doting mother cares for her helpless babe. How can you not feel special, needed or loved? How can I not cry out to Him when I feel most like giving up?
Did I "get God" after my diagnosis? Frankly, I always had, but I "got Him" anew. I cling, in fact. And because of it I got out of bed and got my day throttled! Now, who can smirk at that?