In Crisis

 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. (Psalm 42:11)

I am in crisis. Yet again the walls of depression have seen it necessary to close in on my life and this time I have been powerless to stop its affects. For the first half of this week I was relocated from my flat to a crisis house at the local mental institution. I spent three nights attempting to work out where it had all gone wrong. I have now been allowed to leave and instead am back at the crisis unit during the days, which I was attending around October last year. So here I am again.....in crisis.....depressed.....suicidal.

Its hard to pinpoint exactly what it is in my life that has caused the last weeks upset to have happened and taken over my life so quickly. Yes the usage of cocaine I am sure has had an affect, if not on my mood then on my sheer unbelief that I can be so weak willed yet again. Also, I have come down from my several high weeks of mania into the usual pit of stinking thinking known as depression of my mind. I am now at my wits end, unsure of how if ever, I am going to make a recovery and attempt some sort of a life. It all seems so impossible now, the thoughts of me having a job, raising a family, staying out of the mental hospital. I am more than slightly dismayed that I am back to the place I was sure I was never going to enter again six months ago. But even I am not naive enough to register that this time I need serious intervention or death or its brutal sidekicks, self abuse and self sabotage, will wreak havoc on what is left of a fairly miserable existence.

I often wonder why I was born to feel things the way I do. Is it from birth or is it an accumulation of horrific memories from my past that keep me trapped in this coffin of no air and no freedom. I am unsure which came first so to speak, the chicken or the egg? I am also sure that my soiree into the world of drug addiction has not greatly helped the cause but I can no sooner eliminate that than I can the fact that no matter what reason, I sit here today at crisis point.

Tonight, in a bid to get as much help as possible I will be attending a women’s group in an effort to prevent me relapsing and as a place to seek refuge from the brutality of my everyday world and its evil thoughts. I am going with my mum and hope to find some much needed answers to the dilemma of attempting to outlive the devils plots to put an early end to my life. This time more than ever I feel the need to improve my mental health throbbing loudly in my head. I am unable to continue on like this, year after year, to-ing and fro-ing with my mental health like a crazy boomerang. This is not a life, it is a half life and somewhere out there I hold hope that I will come across a key that will finally end it all. I keep hoping the next book (my house could double as a library), the next therapist, the next group or whatever intervention will somehow unlock the happiness bubble in me and give me a chance to fly, genuinely, not as part of a manic episode. This is difficult. I am confused, hurt, broken.

My faith as always is there, but its difficult for me to even pray at the moment. Not because I do not believe God hears me but because I feel like a failure. I feel that I am not just failing me, but I am also failing my family, my friends, my Lord. I am embarrassed that I am here again, I am exhausted and at the point of running out of options. So meekly and with as much strength as I can muster, I utter the words I have said so many times before, " My Lord, please please help me. This time I really need help, and this time I'm really willing to listen. Amen." I'll let you know how the answer goes.

Love Always.x