On Being a Mentally Ill, Introverted, Jesus-Follower

It's 5:00am and I am ready for today.  Not just figuratively.  I've literally showered, gotten dressed, had my coffee and quiet time.  See, here's the thing:  I hardly slept last night.  We're talking like two hours, max.

I don't mind.  I've had this debate with friends:  if you could choose between never having to sleep and never having to eat, which would you choose?  Let's face it, we spend a lot of time doing both.  And if you are the cook in your household you spend even more time on food.  If I never had to meal plan, grocery shop, prepare food, eat it, and then clean up?  Wow, I'd have a lot of spare time.

But that's not what I'd give up.  I'd take not ever having to sleep again, hands down.  I love all the hours in the day.  Ok, that's not quite the truth.  I love the early morning quiet as well as the midnight solitude.  Except if I try to enjoy both I end up being someone you don't want to be around.  Sleep deprivation does not make me a nice person.  I feel great right now but I'm banking on a nap after lunch so that my people don't want to run away from home.  Or spend time wishing I would.

Part of what I love about early morning is it's my best thinking time.  It's when I read books that require all of my concentration.  It's when I contemplate how I'm really doing: mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

And this morning what I realized is this:  I'm a mentally ill, introverted, Jesus-follower.  That description cracks me up!  And hopefully makes me relatable.

As far as my mental faculties go, I suffer from SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder).  I blogged about it last year around this time.  

And I'll be honest, last year was worse.  It started earlier than usual (for me it usually starts around February.  Last year it started the beginning of December) and seemed more difficult than ever before.  I had never been officially diagnosed but always had that sneaking suspicion.  I actually went to the doctor last winter, confirmed that SAD was my problem, and started taking an anti-depressant.  

It made a world of difference for me.  I took the anti-depressant until mid-May when the world was once again overtaken by green growing things, abundant sunshine, and weather warm enough to have the windows and doors open.

Enter this year.  The weather had been super mild up thru Christmas.  Like, I wore flip flops and drove with my windows open on Christmas Eve.  Lovely.

And I've been eating waaayy better.  Mostly gluten and sugar free.  I say "mostly" cuz let's be real.  There's still some gluten and sugar sneaking in because they are delicious.  What's guacamole without super crunchy delicious pita chips?  Nothing, I tell you.  That's what.

Anyway, I've read some research about how gluten and sugar can be contributors to depression.  Also how healthy carbs (think quinoa, sweet potatoes, sprouted grains, fruit) can help increase serotonin levels giving you that "feel good" feeling (clearly I am slightly impaired from my lack of sleep.  '"feel good" feeling'?  Words are hard.)

So, the combination of warm weather deep into December + nourishing food has been good for me.  However, in the last week or two I've been noticing some things.  I'm really tired.  I'm not sleeping well.  I can't concentrate.  I feel overwhelmed.  All symptoms of SAD.

And then there's the socializing part.  I have a very difficult time trying to tell if my lack of desire to socialize is due to SAD or being an introvert. 

I've been working my way thru this book:

"Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" by Susan Cain.

It.Is.Facinating.

There have been many "Ah-ha!" moments for me.  Moments where I am finally feeling validated about my behavior instead of wondering what's wrong with me.  Being an introvert is not a character flaw.  It's just how I'm wired and the world needs both introverts and extroverts.

We've just come thru The Blizzard of 2016.  The one we'll be talking about for winters to come.  Close to three feet of snow.

Everything was canceled, as you can imagine.  The biggest thing was our church's Ladies Retreat.  It's a weekend we spend at a nearby hotel.  We have a speaker who does four sessions.  We go shopping, stay up late, sit in the hot tub, eat delicious snacks, and laugh a lot.  I always enjoy it and I know if we would have had it this year I would have had a great time.

But guess what?  We canceled it and I wasn't sad.  Not even a little bit.  And I'm not sure if it's because of my introverted nature or my mental illness.

Can I tell you another secret?  If I've chosen you for a friend, I love you deeply.  But if you cancel our plans?  I'm super happy to stay at home.  This is especially true in the winter which leads me to believe it's a combo of my nature and my mental state.

I was texting with a good friend on Saturday in the midst of the blizzard.  We had very similar results when we compared our Myers-Briggs personality tests except for the fact that she is an extreme extrovert whereas I am an extreme introvert.  She started the conversation by asking if I'd ever read "Quiet" as she was in the midst of reading it.

I was able to put into words a vague notion that had been floating around in my brain.  I said this to her:

"One of my biggest struggles is knowing when to say no to something because it stresses me as an introvert vs. using introvertedness as an excuse...I don't want to be a person who misses out on what God has for me because I'm hiding behind introvertedness."

I want very much to lead a life that points to Jesus.  Out of these three things that I feel define me, I want the most obvious to be that I love Jesus.

Are you a mentally ill, introverted Jesus-follower?  If so, you are part of my tribe.  I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. 

In an e-mail.

Definitely not a phone call.

It you don't get that then you might not actually be a tribe member ;)

Today I worshiped thru tears.  A continual stream of them.

I am sure I was not the only one.

On Tuesday morning I was driving to work singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs (the only acceptable volume, really).  It was a cold morning but I had my heated seat turned on and I had just come from listening to my friend, Adrianne, talk to our ladies group at church.

I did my job, picked up Jake from preschool, and came home.

And Larry says to me, "Did you hear?".

No, I hadn't.

He then told me how a woman who used to come to our church had died.  Very unexpectedly.

A young woman.

A pregnant young woman.

A pregnant young woman with a husband and a toddler.

I felt waves of grief crashing over me.

I wasn't close to this young woman.  But I had watched her while she was in the youth group.  While she was a young bride.  I felt like she smiled all the time.  She was so cheerful.

And now, she was gone.

As the day unfolded, so did the story.

I heard that they were unable to save Jeneva but they delivered her baby boy.  And things were looking good for him.

All day Wednesday I thought about Jeneva's husband, Mervin.  And their little girl.  And their baby in the hospital.  And I couldn't take my prayers much farther than "Oh, Jesus."

Then on Thursday, right before I left for work, I got a text.

Pray for the baby, it said, the doctors think there is significant brain damage.

The sun was shining as I drove my son to school and it felt like a mockery.

I dropped him off and drove to work.  I didn't listen to the radio.

I said to God, "How can one man handle this much pain?"
Sometimes it seems like God makes mistakes.

As I was cresting the hill on Railroad Ave coming into New Holland, something caught my eye.  It wasn't the church steeple stretching skyward, a view that normally I love.  It was well below the steeple.

It was the graveyard.

The tombstones to be specific.

They were glittering in the sunshine.

I don't know why or how but, for some reason, it comforted me.

Then this morning.

A sweet girl who had been a good friend of Jeneva's led worship.

We sang "Glorious One", "Lord I Need You", and "Revelation Song" among others.

I sang with tears streaming down my face the entire time.  Wanting to worship this Jesus whom I love but also feeling the ache of loss for someone that I barely knew.  Wanting to worship but also feeling the why.

Why did God allow this to happen?

Isn't that always the question we ask when tragedy strikes?

We can get philosophical and go into the fall of mankind at the beginning.  How death entered the world because of sin.

But I'd like to suggest that sometimes it's ok to just sit with the 'I don't know'.  And not just sit with it alone.  To bring it to Jesus and be broken and say 'I don't know why this happened and it breaks my heart.  But I trust you.  I trust that you know what you are doing and I'm going to look for you in this situation   Please show yourself to me.'

We sang the phrase "eternity sings" and I thought of Jeneva, singing in heaven this morning.  She loved Jesus, was committed to following his ways, and because of that she gets to sing his praises for eternity.  It's a comforting thought.

In Sunday school this morning we looked into the first two chapters of Ecclesiastes.  They are basically summed up in chapter one, verse two: "Meaningless!  Meaningless!" says the Teacher, "Utterly meaningless!  Everything is meaningless."

This was said by Solomon, one of the wealthiest and wisest men in history.

It makes me sad but, in a way, I see his point.

I do a lot of things that will never be remembered after I'm gone.  Mountains of laundry, piles of dirty dishes, mindless web surfing.

And even the important things that I do, making my husband and kids feel loved, being there for my friends, church work, writing this blog, generations from now it is most likely that no one will know my name.

But you know what?  I'm not gonna be here generations from now.
I am here right now.

And I say my life has meaning.  I say each day has value.  I say giving thanks for the little things is leaving a legacy for my kids and grandkids.

Today I watched people hug each other and I hugged a bunch of people.  I loved that.

Today I went for a hike under a white-puffy-cloud-blue sky with some people I care about.  I loved that.

Today I heard laughter and music that made my heart rejoice.  I loved that.

Today I tasted sweet chocolate, salty peanut butter, savory rosemary.  I loved that.

I read something in Shauna Niequist's book "Bittersweet" that I want to share with you.

"Bittersweet is the practice of believing that we really do need both the bitter and the sweet, and that a life of nothing but sweetness rots both your teeth and your soul.  Bitter is what makes us strong, what forces us to push through, what helps us earn the lines on our faces and the calluses on our hands.  Sweet is nice enough, but bittersweet is beautiful, nuanced, full of depth and complexity.  Bittersweet is courageous, gutsy, earthy."

The last thought I want to leave you with is this:

Jesus set the example in giving thanks.  1Corinthians 11: 23b-24a says "The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it..."

It's a stilling thought.

Jesus knew his betrayal was going to come at the hand of a friend.  He knew how his body was going to be beaten and brutalized.  He knew there was incredible suffering ahead for him on the cross.  And, yet, he gave thanks.

Sometimes our eucharisteo is bold and bright.

Sometimes life causes our eucharisteo to become faded and broken.

But the important thing is that we keep on giving thanks.

"Worthy is the King who conquered the grave."