Chapter 10: The Diagnosis ~ Oct. 2018

 Oct. 30, 2018

I think I'll always remember that day, even if some of the details slip my mind.

After two full months in Portland, OR, I needed to see a psychiatrist if I was going to continue taking medications for the complaints of the past nine months.

In hindsight, that was a gift of God's Grace right there. I could have let that date slip by, let the prescription go unfilled, gone off of the medication cold turkey. But I didn't. I wanted a doctor's opinion, probably because I didn't trust my own fully. I wanted someone outside of myself to tell me I was doing better, that the depression had subsided, that we could try tapering down the medication and see how I did.

Spoiler Alert: That's not what I got.

I spent the morning at my host mom's house rather than at UGM as I normally would have on a Tuesday, because I felt like God was calling me to work on my New Covenant Vow that morning and do some self-care rather than go into the internship and potentially have challenging situations before my appointment.

Because I had no car, I had to ride a bus or two an hour and a half or so to get to the appointment. I had found this psychiatrist in downtown Portland, not too far from my internship location. I chose her because she identified as a Christian on a website, and I desperately wanted a doctor who would not disregard the spiritual side of my story.

Her office was one room on the fourth story of a building of offices. No waiting room with chairs, just an anteroom and then the office itself with a big desk and the doctor's chair, two patient chairs, and a wall of glass windows.

We talked for two and a half hours that first day, so there's no way I can remember or record all the details. But one thing stood out to me at the time and still does today: I was so nervous talking to her - I had updated and printed out a timeline of the events for the past nine months. She asked me why I was nervous, and I said something about telling her everything that had happened (going back over it all again). She was picking up on something there that I didn't even see.

I think after a while she asked me something along the lines of "what do you want from me?" To which I responded that I wanted help getting off of my medication. And that's when she dropped the bombshell:

"I think you have bipolar disorder."

It shouldn't have come as a complete surprise--the doctor in Uganda had mentioned it as a possibility as well months prior--but it was like a bucket of ice cold water nonetheless.

Looking back, I can see how I was probably experiencing hypomania in the days/weeks leading up to my appointment. I wasn't sleeping so well, was writing voraciously, and there was the nervous energy the doctor had commented on.

But in the moment, I did NOT want to accept what she was telling me. She tried talking about a treatment plan involving weeks of gradually increasing a medication that would counteract the mood swings. My plans, however, were to get back to East Africa with the Servant Teams program sooner than that!

She kept talking to me, including telling me that she'd have to see me for a year in order to confirm the diagnosis--but my mind was trying to digest the ramifications of that initial assessment:

"I think you have bipolar disorder."

Finally we finished and I left. It was like the whole world looked different than it had before. I had gone into the appointment with such high hopes that the worst was behind me, that I could start getting back to "normal" life. But with this diagnosis??? I was viewing it almost as a death sentence of sorts.

I remember needing to think and process, so I looked on Google Maps and located a park not far from the doctor's office. I headed there, sat on a bench, and called one of my "safe people" - a lady who I had gotten to know during my time at JBU, from my church there. For reasons of my own, I didn't want to call family or anyone from Dallas.

I sobbed on the phone to her as I tried to let that initial diagnosis sink in. And then we prayed. I remember praying to God, declaring that the enemy couldn't have me--that he couldn't hold me in defeat because of this diagnosis.

Eventually we said goodbye and I made the trek back on the bus/buses to my host mom's house.

The next day I finally called my mom and emailed the couple who had walked with me most closely in Uganda. And slowly, gradually I began to absorb the possibility that I have bipolar disorder and that I would probably deal with it for the rest of my life.

One final comment here: Before I was diagnosed with this disorder, I used to think and say that a person was bipolar. But now, being one of the crowd, I don't anymore. People are not bipolar. People have bipolar, just like people have diabetes. It's something we live with, not something that defines us.

As I thought about writing this chapter of the story, this is the song that came to mind--especially the bridge that starts at 3:00.

Written Oct. 1, 2020

Chapter 9: The Move ~ Sept. 2018

It's kinda overwhelming to know what all to say about Sept. 2018.

I just read through ALL my Facebook posts from that month. I had so many joys, so many new adventures in Portland, getting into the new grove of life as a part of Servant Teams, AND time with extended family in California which was wonderful! Mood-wise, it was up & up for the most part! I did get a cold at one point that put me out of commission for a couple days, but that wasn't too bad.

As part of my role in Servant Teams, I started interning/volunteering at the Union Gospel Mission in downtown Portland. I continued that for the next couple months. If you happen to want to read more about that experience in particular, you can check out the post about it on my other blog.

I enjoyed meeting new people, having a purpose to my days, positive things to work on, etc. It felt GREAT to be consistently excited and motivated again!

At first, I stayed with the host family where my team leader Yevette also stayed - though I was made to understand from the beginning that was a temporary solution (the family had three kids under the age of 7 trying to sleep in the same room so that I had a bedroom to myself!). In the meantime, though, I became accustomed to riding the bus from their house to the office, or driving in with Yevette which was even more convenient! Although there were stressors in that situation - mostly having to do with storage space i in the kitchen and the aforementioned children!

As the month drew to a close, Yevette reminded me that the housing situation was temporary, and that I should be ready to move by the end of September. She and Mandee were working hard to find a new place for me to stay. There was one option available, but it was clear down in Gladstone - an hour to an hour & a half bus ride, compared to the much shorter one I had become used to. Then another housing opportunity became available, in the same neighborhood as where I was already staying! I was so very excited for this possibility ...

Then I found out the bad news: Since the family had a foster child, I would have to go through a DHS screening process which could take up to THREE MONTHS.

And .... well .... I threw a hissy fit.

Internally, mind you. I didn't understand why God was allowing me to be so much further away from everyone.

And then my birthday came. And that night, thanks to a big free frozen coffee, I didn't sleep a single wink.

But rather than send me completely spiraling downward, these circumstances were opportunities to practicing trusting God, even though I *didn't* like it or understand.

And He was faithful through that for sure!! As you will see in the next chapter or two :)

I didn't have any idea of a song to put with this post. This is an "oldie but goodie" as some say that I shared on my Facebook page that month ... so I'm going to use it!

Written Jan. 1, 2022

Chapter 8: The Escape ~ Aug. 2018

Well! It has been about six weeks of silence on here - my apologies. There was some life happening and some time spent on a needed mental health break. But now, as the new year rapidly approaches, I pick up my metaphorical "pen" to continue recounting the journey where I left off.

August 2018 - yet another month of preparation for transition and change!

In contrast to the past several months, I posted a TON on Facebook in August. {My quantity of Facebook posts can sometimes be an indicator of my mood.}

Early in the month, I made a trip back to Siloam Springs, AR (my college hometown) in order to reunite with friends and church "family" there. However, I had some pretty bad nights of sleep, the worst in a couple months. At the same time, God was so gracious and merciful - He gave me a special day visiting my old nature "haunts" all around campus, reflecting and prayer journaling. :)

I saw two doctors that month, as a chiropractor friend of mine thought my mental/emotional symptoms might stem from a hormone imbalance. But there was nothing to conclusively diagnosis me with a physical reason for those trials.

I also threw myself into personal fundraising through my first-ever Go Fund Me page, to cover my monthly insurance premiums and some other personal expenses that would not be covered by the Servant Teams internship/gap year program.

At my last appointment with my psychiatrist, he agreed to give me a three-month prescription for each of the two-to-three medications I had been taking since February. {I had temporarily quit one medication in July/August, but I think I went back on it after the resurgence of my bouts with insomnia in AR and Dallas.}

Finally, it was time to pack (in the last 100 hours in Dallas) and leave on August 29th. I was so very excited for a break from the megatropolis {my made up word} of DFW, where I had been "stuck" for almost five months.

And so I made my escape - having no idea what all lay before me!

I don't remember what music I was listening to a lot at the time - but here's one from that general era that fits well what was *really* going on - I thought I was in control making positive decisions again {finally!}, but God was the One actually in control!

Written Dec. 30, 2021

Chapter 7: The Pendulum ~ July 2018

 It's 3:15 a.m. as I put fingers to keyboard.

I spent the first half of this week firmly on the depression side of the spectrum. That story will be published at a later date, once I am finally caught up. By God's grace, I've swung back towards center, and possibly a little past center into a bit of mania. But after 2-ish days of depression, honestly I'll take what I can get!!

But what do I do when I can't sleep, after I've talked to my insomnia buddy? I write :) And so it's fitting that this morning I write about another time when the pendulum was swinging around: July 2018.

After submitting the Servant Teams application on June 30, my parents and I arrived at Nathan's place for a Fourth of July week of fun & family time. It was wonderful! We went camping, got lost on a long hike, etc!! :D

According to Facebook, it was on July 2 that I found out I would be interviewing for Servant Teams - so they didn't keep me waiting long before they let me know about that, which was nice of them!

However, by the time the 11th rolled around (the day of the interview), my pendulum had swung back toward the depression/emotional struggle side of the spectrum. I remember sitting on my bed, being interviewed on the phone by Mandee, one of two Servant Team leaders. And she asked the hard question - something along the line of "Your references mentioned that you were dealing with depression. How is that going?"

I think I gave an answer that kinda beat around the bush, but I was definitely feeling the weight of the despondency that had stolen my life in Uganda from me.

That was on a Wednesday. The next week was VBS at my home church, and I was serving as the photographer for the event. I remember haunting the halls of my church building for the first couple days, questioning my sanity for being there, wrestling with the feelings of depression that I thought then would never ever totally go away.

I think it was Wednesday the 18th that I got a phone call from a phone number I didn't recognize - so as is my habit, I didn't answer - thankfully Yevette (the other Servant Teams leader) left a message!!! She asked me to call her back, so I took a really deep breath and did that. And she said the words I never thought I would hear: I was accepted into the Servant Teams program!!!!!! I was like "REALLY??????"

It literally took another day or two for the news to sink in and pull me out of my despondency once again. I had the opportunity to go and do something real with my life again, something more than be at home and go to counseling and try to put the pieces of my life back together again - this was a chance to go and prove to the world, my family, New Hope, etc. that I was healthy and worthy again.

{Major spoiler alert - that's not exactly how things worked out!!!! But that was my dream and my hope!}

The rest of the month was a flurry of rolling out my plans to my email list and Facebook :) I couldn't wait to leave my parents' home again and strike out on my own for the first time in ..... all of four or five months.

Obviously, looking back from this vantage point, {2020 vision, am I right? Haha} I can see the flaws in my plan. In some ways, I'm not sure why God allowed everything that would follow in the next 5-6 months. Although, if I hadn't gone to Portland, I would have drudged on in the same muddy rut of seeing the same psych and the same counselor, neither of whom were particularly/uniquely good for me. {Another spoiler alert - I'm now with a different psych & different counselor, both of whom I am SO thankful for & *greatly* appreciate, if not outright love!!}

This song, "God of All My Days" by Casting Crowns, was out back in 2018 - but I really didn't know it then. It played this morning on my Pandora station as I sat down to write this post ... and it fits. No, I definitely wasn't perfect in July 2018 {spoiler alert numero tres, I'm STILL not perfect!!!}, but God is the God of ALL my days - not just the good ones :)

Written Nov. 12, 2021

Chapter 6: The Chance ~ June 2018

I don't remember when the brochure arrived in my parents' mail.

It might have even been waiting for me when I got back from Uganda. But at some point in April or May, 2018, there it was: an invitation to take part in a gap year/internship program called Servant Teams.

I knew almost as soon as I saw it that I would probably like to do it.

For one thing, it just sounded like me ... and for another thing, the program included five months in East Africa ... a place I was dying to get back to.

I also saw the Servant Teams program as an opportunity to escape from the stuckness I felt in Dallas. And it was a chance to prove that I was able to handle normal life again ... or at least to find out if I was.

The reason I was even on the mailing list for Lahash (the parent organization of Servant Teams) was because I had donated to a good friend's birthday fundraiser benefitting Lahash - which, like New Hope Uganda, was founded by a JBU alum.

So, I sat on the brochure for a month or two - as the June 30th application deadline crept closer.

I didn't create the document to answer the application questions until the 19th. And then, somewhere along the way, I lost interest. It wasn't until my parents and I were listening to an audiobook by a gal who had suffered some major ups and downs in her life, as we were driving to ND to see Nathan again on June 30th, that I was "inspired" to complete the application.

We literally spent half an hour at a McDonalds along the road so that I could get the application emailed in ahead of the deadline. {I'm not sure why I didn't just hotspot my laptop from my phone - I think I hadn't figured out how to do that, LOL. *I just found a July 3, 2018 Facebook post stating that's when I learned to hotspot! Oh my.}

That chance I took is the main thing that I remember from June 2018. Like in May, I didn't post much on Facebook - Though I did attend the Republican State Convention as a guest of my parents, who were delegates. But almost half of the posts from that month are related to this application. I put all my eggs in the one basket, even though you're not supposed to do that!

One of my few posts on Facebook was sharing this song - so if I didn't learn about it in this month, I at least listened to it a lot then ... including while working on my Servant Teams application :)

Written Oct. 9, 2021

Chapter 5: The Transition ~ May 2018

 I've been on hiatus from writing about the unfolding of events in 2018 for a long time .... because this chapter is not one that I find particularly enjoyable to reflect on. But it's part of my story. A quote that a trusted friend recently shared about a different story (one of hers) seems apropos here:  

Grief, when one can dance with it instead of fighting it, doesn't have to stay painful or damaging. Those were parts of my story that I steward. They carry weighty purpose, some of which I know, some that I don't know. But they aren't sharp any more.

I don't share that quote because I have reached that place in regards to the summer of 2018 ... far from it. But I admire my friend, and I want to emulate after that pattern set forth by what she said.

The second half of April and most of May are blurred together in my mind. 

Not wanting to get out of bed.

Hiding under the covers for a couple hours most mornings.

It took me six weeks to get fully unpacked from Uganda, partly because I still didn't want to deal with the reality that insisted on confronting me - that, as I saw it then, I had failed my Ugandan "family" and had to resign.

I just figured out how to easily look back to what I posted on Facebook in a particular month, to see if anything major happened that I was forgetting.

There were four posts. Just four.

For those who know me and how much I usually post on Facebook, that will tell you something right there!

But it was in May 2018 that I learned "Is He Worthy?", a song by Andrew Peterson & covered by Chris Tomlin and others, that continues to mean a lot to me every time I hear or sing it. I didn't know what song to put on this entry until I saw that old post.

Facebook also tells me that it was in the middle of May that I drove again for the first time after coming back.

I looked back at my photos too, to see what was there - and there are only 16 in May (a third of them photos of receipts for reimbursement from my support account), even though we went on a trip that month. That, too, is incredibly low.

The one thing that stands out to me about May, before looking at these reminders, was the trip. Nathan flew down to Dallas and worked for a long weekend completely packing up his room, since he by then had a townhouse he was purchasing in ND where he is still stationed with the Air Force.

I think it was tough watching that. On one level, that I didn't cognizantly realize at the time, that may be because I was "stuck" at home and here he was doing the adult thing and fully moving out of our parents' home - even though he is younger than me. The level I did recognize was that he was being encouraged/asked to do this by our mom. Now, looking back, that rationally makes a lot of sense!! But at the time, I think I translated it as Nathan being given the boot. And there was a deeper level at which I was afraid that I would never be able to move out again; because at the time my depression felt like it would last forever.

Eventually, we loaded up our van with all of his possessions from our home, then drove to my aunt & uncle's house, where we added a washer to the cargo! (Yep, we were so laden that the strut of one of the van's wheels broke as we were driving down the highway. Thankfully we were all safe, and only delayed by an overnight.)

When we reached Nathan's house, and I saw the state of things there (it looked like disorganized chaos to me), I'd had enough and just mentally and emotionally shut down.

I remember lying on "my" bed in one of his spare bedrooms, just shivering. Not from cold, but from ... stress I guess. {I just took a quick skim through, and I don't think I have talked about that shivering on this blog before ... but it had happened relatively regularly from the time immediately after my breakdown in Jan. 2018 and for many months after. I don't know how to explain it or why I did it. It felt almost involuntary, but I could stop it if I made myself.}

Mom challenged me to think about how I could get out of my focus on myself and help Nathan to unpack and settle in. And I did; but it wasn't easy.

After a few days with Nathan, my parents and I made the long drive to Grandpa's house, where we and my mom's brother and one of her sisters were helping Grandpa to declutter and clear some stuff out of his house. Thankfully my mind and emotions stayed engaged and relatively helpful there.

While staying at my uncle's house, I actually had a phone interview with a photographer who was looking for an admin assistant. She ended up deciding I was not a good fit for the job, because I told her I'm a writer not a talker & that I'm not as good on the phone as I'd like to be. But it was a step, and I was trying to look ahead!!

I also found out that NHUM (the American funding arm of New Hope) was looking for someone to do their social media, I think it was? And I applied, thinking & hoping that I had a shoe in the door ... but I was turned down for that too.

And so May came to an end ......

Written Sept. 18, 2021

Chapter 4: The Farewell ~ April 2018

My resignation naturally meant that I had to disperse or pack my things and leave Uganda.

Believe me, it was not an easy process.

At times, I would just pace in my room instead of sorting through my things, because I didn't want this to be the reality I was facing.

Mary came over one afternoon to help me (I still paced a bit), and then I went to dinner with their family that night. 

There was talk going on about how to best get me home--I was mentally/emotionally unstable enough that there was some concern I shouldn't travel on my own.

I think it was the next day that my parents called me when they got up in the morning and told me that Mom's roundtrip ticket and my return ticket were already bought. Mom would arrive late in the evening on March 31st (Resurrection Sunday was April 1st that year), and we would leave Uganda on the evening of the 3rd. (Yes, as I write this, it is also April 3rd. Definitely a bittersweet day.)

Once I knew Mom was coming, that I'd be traveling home with her--it convinced me that it was really happening, I guess. I started selling my furniture and appliances to friends and coworkers. Thankfully, the Emmanuel Youth Outreach was having a bazar shortly after my leaving date, which made an easy way to get rid of the many things I didn't plan to take back to the U.S.

There were many good things about my mother coming. One small but significant one was that it meant I had four checked bags I could pack to go back included in our tickets - not just two. But much more importantly, it was my Mom's chance to come and meet my Ugandan family, briefly though it was.

That meant a lot to me, because in the weeks and months after, as I struggled hard with the emotions of being ripped away from my Ugandan family, she could remind me how much they loved and appreciated me.

I'm thankful for the goodbye that I had. The singles' group cooked an amazing dinner to see me off. Pacific family, the one out of the seven family groups that I was affiliated with, invited Mom and I to their Easter dinner. We had good fellowship and meals with several of the NHU staff members who I was close to.

And then the final day came. 

People came by the house that had been home for three and a half years to pray for me and bid me farewell. My three house sisters accompanied my mom and I down to Entebbe, driven by Geoff along with Mary. We seven shared a last meal together not far from the airport. The hardest farewell was definitely to my sister Harriet. That was the closest I got to crying in the whole goodbye process.

In talking to a friend in the past week or two, about processing my grief of leaving Uganda, she pointed out to me that I still haven't been back in the States for as long as I was living in Uganda. Four years and three months in Uganda, only three years today since I came back. That was a novel thought to me, but it made a lot of sense of why this anniversary season from Jan-April is still hard for me.

Unfortunately, leaving Uganda and coming back to the U.S. didn't solve all my problems. I knew it wouldn't, of course, even before I left Uganda. But I don't think I ever would have expected just how hard it would be.

Most mornings in April I didn't want to get out of bed. There felt like no reason to.

My mom had a pre-planned trip to my grandpa's place to help him with organizing/clearing things out in April. Which would have left me home alone during the days, BUT, my brother very kindly offered to come hang out with me/us, which was definitely a bright spot in April!

I also started seeing a counselor and a psychiatrist in Dallas--honestly, I didn't like either of them particularly well ... but I kept seeing them consistently in the coming months. The psychiatrist increased my dosage of the anti-depressant to try and help me break free. The counselor, although part of a Christian practice, wasn't really offering me much from the Bible, though she did give me at least one helpful word picture that I still think about sometimes.

And so April came to an end ... but the roller coaster ride continued.

Written April 3, 2021