As I write this, the date is January 24th. A date I've looked on with regret and disappointment for the past three years.
I don't even know where to begin in talking about January 24th, 2018.
First, I guess, I should set the stage a bit:
- Jan. 9th & 10th, traveled back to Uganda after my longest furlough (4+ months) in the States.
- Jan. 12th, came down with influenza: fever, body aches, headache, coughing & general weakness over the next four days. Barely left my bed during that time.
- Jan. 17th, the New Hope Uganda annual staff conference started, and I attended, even though I still had a lingering cough.
- Jan. 23rd, woke up at 1:30 a.m. and lay tossing in bed the rest of the night. I was worried about getting back into working at the NHU Admin office after being gone. That was the last day of the staff conference.
- I went to bed really early that night, because I was so tired. Slept about two hours, than woke up and didn't sleep again. My mind kept circling around the celebration meal we would be having the next evening - Ateso food (Teso is a region of Uganda). I love my Ateso friends dearly, but my worst digestive issues were from when I visited our Kobwin center in Teso.
Finally the sun rose on Jan. 24th. It was supposed to be my first day back in the office, finally focusing solely on my Communications Coordinator responsibilities. This is what I had been wanting for years!! But, as I said above, I had only slept a couple hours. However, I was determined to have a good start -- meeting peoples' expectations and not falling short or showing weakness. So off to the office I went!
But it didn't take very long at all for my lack of sleep to catch up to me. As I sat at my desk in my new office, trying to write up a blog post about the past week of Envisioning (the staff conference), I instead found myself doubting everything - wondering if I even really believed in God. Looking back, it sounds overdramatic to say something like that. But in those moments and hours, that's how I felt.
Eventually I wondered down the hallway back to my old office in Sponsorship - where my "sister" Christine and my former supervisor Auntie Jill were working. I told them some of what was going on -- in fact, I may have even stopped by their office when I first arrived at the admin block ... the details are growing fuzzier of that day. And Jill, a proper Brit, told me "You're shattered - you can't expect yourself to think straight. GO HOME and get some rest." She walked me home.
I called my mentor, Susan, on the phone - but as often happened, I couldn't get through to her (she lived in a more remote village). I guess I probably sent her a text message. Then I lay down - but my thoughts were not dwelling in helpful or pleasant places. And I couldn't fall asleep, despite being exhausted. Before long, I started pacing my room. I felt trapped, like I couldn't get out of what I was feeling.
A couple hours later, Susan called me back. I think I told her on the phone what was really going on, and she asked permission to call Mary, an American nurse. Susan was waiting for someone to pick her up and bring her to Kasana Children's Centre, where I lived - and Mary was on her way back from somewhere (probably Kampala) and so couldn't come right away.
But she did call the nurses at the clinic, asking them to come check on me. I think my house-sister Harriet arrived home about then. I don't remember anymore what exact order things happened. I was on my bed, face down, groaning. I could hear one of the male nurses at my front door, with the husband of one of my other sisters. And I didn't want to see them.
Finally Mary arrived and I told her that I just wanted to die. At first she was like "let's get a malaria test done" - but then she asked me "Esther, is this physical or spiritual?" And I said "Spiritual!" "All right," she said, "We can deal with that." So she called in four of the Kasana church elders - her husband, Susan's husband, another of the American pastors, and Uncle Jonnes (the co-founder of NHU).
Susan arrived too, and the six of them plus my sister Harriet spent a couple hours praying for me and talking to me, seeking to encourage me. Once the guys left for the Ateso dinner, Susan, Harriet, Mary and I continued talking some more in the living room, and then we sang quite a few different worship songs both in the living room and in my room.
Someone brought us food from the Ateso dinner, and I ate some (and didn't get sick, might I add!!). I was soooooo tired, and eager to get to bed. But that night, I couldn't sleep either. I distinctly felt at peace instead of worrying about something, but I couldn't let go of consciousness for some reason.
At 3 a.m. I went to Harriet's room, tired of being alone in my own. We lay down in her queen bed, and finally I fell asleep ... only to have a vivid, disturbing dream. I went back to my own room and tried getting in touch with my parents.
The story goes on an on from there ... but that day was, in a way, the beginning of my journey with mental illness.
The next week saw me sleeping only when medicated, either by Mary or a medical doctor in Kampala who I went to go see to make sure there wasn't anything physical-health related (all the tests came back normal). I did not like the medication the doctor put me on - it made me feel totally flat emotionally.
On Jan. 31st, I met with my supervisor who had arrived back in the country. I assumed Mary had apprised her of how I was struggling, both emotionally and with sleep. So I let out some of my inner angst, which caught my supervisor off guard. That set in motion a meeting between Mary, the two NHU head leaders, and my supervisor the next day.
As I thought ahead about this post, and as I was typing it out, I didn't know what song to put with it. It has felt to me like there has been no victory, no redeeming of what happened that day. Like it's just an old raw wound in my heart that has become a big ugly scar. But then as I was nearing the end, the song "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" sung by Michael Card came on my "refocusing" playlist - And somehow it just fit. NOT because I did everything right that day and in the aftermath of it, BUT because Christ IS the Lover of my soul - especially in my brokenness.
Written Jan. 24 & Mar. 22, 2021
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