Near the end of a fairly traumatic session, my therapist told me to share some happy memories as she brought me out.
I told her about playing D&D with my wife and son, and how my character is named "Mohr Khowbell."
In the midst of what is normally a very tender and focused moment centered on my healing, she had to pause everything she was doing because she couldn’t stop laughing.
Okay, I don’t know who will see this, but my wife asked me for one present on our 26th Anniversary.
That I share a Tweet to the online community I’ve become a part of, tagging her in it.
It might seem like a weird request, but I get it.
She knows you are important to me.
She can’t share too many deep, meaningful, personal thoughts online because of her job. (Because it’s Twitter… everything’s controversial, right?) She can’t wisely navigate what she does at work—which she does excellently, btw, imo—while putting herself out here like I do.
It feels like looking at everything through a filter of despair. Every positive gets discounted, and the world starts to confirm to me in excruciating detail my view of my own self worth.
My rational arguments for low self esteem make the most sense. I long for someone to come along with a better argument as to why I‘m worth something, but the better argument never happens.
I’ve learned it’s not that I need to figure out how to argue better on my own behalf, or come up with or believe in a better theology—my arguments against myself are actually sound. It’s that my depression blinds me to all the variables that would change the equation:
My whole life I’ve tried to get my emotions (what I consider my heart to believe) to match what my head wants to believe. But, so as not to be led by emotions, I kept them under firm control so I could be a better Christian—bc it was obviously what God would want, right? 2/
Due to childhood wounding, though, I could never fully feel myself actually trusting God. This then became my nightmare.
I hated that I never had enough faith to feel it. I blamed myself and my "faith level" for my prayers failing. Obviously I wasn’t cutting it. 3/
I think of this day a lot... The time in between times, where Jesus died horrifically, and there’s no context for anything else to come after. There’s no hope today...only hurt.
I know a lot of people are dealing with hurt. I know what it feels like not to be able to hope.
To need someone just to sit with that with you, without trying to fix it, because in the moment it can’t be fixed.
There’s healing there. I know the beginnings of wholeness start in that place. My heart is that we don’t skip it in our rush to rejoice.
Sometimes it hurts. Let it hurt. Let hope be the thing that surprises you, because it will. Let’s hope for each other, when we can’t hope for ourselves. Let us find we are worthy enough to have someone sit with us in our pain, and be that for others.
Prayer requests, for praying types—and thoughts and heartfelt, good wishes from those who aren’t (as my heart believes God hears those, too).
I have a friend who is high risk and presumed positive. Can we maybe start a thread and boost a signal for prayer for these people?
For healing and protection, definitely. But most immediately I think of the isolation—literal and figurative, as they deal with their own fears, and fears of family for them as well.
The feeling of being a threat to those closest to you has to make one feel so awful and alone.
I know some who fully identify and deal with these fears already. Even if only high risk and ill with things other than COVID. @AliaJoyH, I know you’ve been public with that, and recommend your book and Twitter feed to anyone. Still praying, and loving who you are from afar.