Chapter 12: The Hospital ~ Dec. 2018

 Guess what - I cannot sleep again.

This time I've been trying for about two hours since I woke up after just a couple hours of sleep. It's 3:45 a.m. as I begin this post, and my boss is supposed to arrive in two hours to pick me up on the way to the airport for our division retreat/work intensive.

But that's not what this post is about.

Not being able to sleep, even after multiple attempts, listening to both sides of my sleepy music cassette (yes, I still have a cassette player!!!), as well as 30 minutes of calm Pandora music that usually helps .... and talking to my insomnia buddy for 30 minutes ... well, it all reminds me of my first night in the psychiatric institution back in Dec. 2018, when I didn't sleep a wink. (I also won a game of Yahtzee against another patient by getting THREE Yahtzees!!! :O That was fun!!)

But to back up ......

Saturday, Dec. 8th, 2018 will be another day that I always remember, even though I had to check the calendar for that month to verify which calendar date it was.

It started the Wednesday or so before.

But that's a story that I tell in another blog post - one I have already written (back in Jan. of 2021) but that will not actually see the publishing "light of day" for a few more weeks at least. Because to write about why I actually went into the mental hospital, and then especially to share that with the "whole world," takes a lot of courage. Courage that I haven't worked up to quite yet.

For now, let's just pick up the story where that blog post leaves it off. I wound up at the house of the pastor from my host mom's church in a southern suburb of Portland. [As I write this post, I haven't written the chapter for Nov. 2018 yet, but I am sure I will introduce Jeremy & Sarah Sanderson in that entry.]

Judith took me back to her house, where I took my morning medication - and then Sarah came and picked me up and we headed to the emergency room. No, I wasn't physically injured or sick, "just" mentally/emotionally/spiritually distraught.

Little did I know then that it would be more than 12 hours later before I would be able to crash [metaphorically] into what would be my bed for the next week at a recently opened mental institution.

It wasn't a bad day, really, once I made the decision to go in. As I said in the entry that I wrote out by hand for my team leaders to post on my Facebook profile/timeline to sorta explain why I wouldn't be posting for a few days, "My support team here is amazing."

Sarah stayed with me for the first long while at the room in the ER (during which I called my parents & clued them in), then Yevette (one of my team leaders) came for a little while, I was alone for maybe half an hour, and then Mandee (the other team leader) came and stayed with me until I was transferred and did initial check-in up at the relatively new facility in Vancouver, WA.

{A tangent by way of filling in the story a bit more ... Back in November, on a day when I was doing well emotionally and my leaders and I were talking about my chances of going to East Africa with them, I told them "If I end up in the psych ward, don't let me go with you." And both of them heartily agreed! So that is part of the reason why choosing to transfer from the emergency room to a psych ward was difficult. (And the choice was up to me - the ER nurse/doctor said I didn't have to go in, that I could go back home. But by then I was rather afraid of myself and what I might be capable of.) When Yevette arrived at the ER to hang out with me, I was like "Well, I guess I'm not going with you then." She was like "Oh, do you want to have that conversation now?" And my response was, "We already DID have it!" Praise God for the fact that Paraclete urged me to say that to them on a day when I was doing well. So, my decision made the other decision that I had been trying to make my own way. It would no longer be about 'trying to make it work' for me to go to East Africa with the team. That door was now closed; I wasn't going.}

Whenever I think back to that week in the mental institution, the greatest feeling that I have is one of thankfulness.

It's gratitude to God for providing that loving, caring support team who rallied around me so well during my time of need -- both those present in the greater Portland area, and those around the country who I called and talked to by the hour from the landline phones at the nurses' desk. [I'm still using the journal Yevette gave me, that has a *long* list of phone numbers inside the front cover from that experience!!]
[By the way, that in itself was a Godsend - because the journal Yevette gifted me for my birthday in Sept. 2018 is a unique one that has NO wires or staples. It's stitched by sections. Because of that "simple/accidental" fact, I was able to have my current journal - which I had started the previous month or so - without it having to be modified by the nurse staff. No metal was allowed in the psych ward!!! And usually I have journals with spiral binding or staples!!!]

This is going to be a long blog post - I'm probably not going to finish it tonight. {I know, I know, late warning!!}

Even though I didn't sleep a wink that first night (Sat.-Sun.) at the mental hospital, I was more at peace than I had been any of the three or four days before. Because there I knew I was safe -- maybe not completely safe yet mentally/emotionally, but I was in a safe place physically -- and I felt that quite tangibly.

A funny memory was meeting the doctor who oversaw patients' treatment on Sunday - and then "meeting" him again on Monday (I literally did not recognize him as the same man because I was so sleep-deprived on Sunday)!!!

Looking back to that experience almost three years ago, the things that stand out most to me are the people and God's faithfulness.

God was so gracious. He opened up a bed in a beautiful new facility right when I needed it, even though I thought I'd be better off at a different hospital where my Portland psych worked on the weekends.

He also drew me very near to Himself during that time. To be honest, I rather miss that dependence born out of desperation. {It's as I wrote that sentence that this post's second song started "randomly" playing on my playlist.}
There are still passages in my Bible (that I've had since I was 10) that are marked and dated in pen from that week in Rainier Springs. [I normally use pencil in my Bible - but the institution didn't allow any pencils, just safety/"bendy" pens.]

{Breaking here to try and sleep the last available hour!!}

Here I am again, almost three months later, to try and wrap up this blog entry so that it's ready for posting. There's so much I could say about that first time in the psychiatric ward. {"First" because, spoiler alert, I've now been in a second time since beginning to write this post!}

In addition to God's faithfulness, I was so very grateful for His Body who were also faithful to me. Almost every day of my stay there, I had some visitor or other make the trek from Portland to Vancouver to come see me! That was a huge encouragement, especially since I had only started building my community there a couple months previously. In the midst of my own need, I don't think I realized at the time what a sacrifice that was! But now I certainly do.

I also had the privilege of getting to know some people who were in similar boats to my own. I felt like I was able to meet them where they were and even love on them some, without expressing some of the strong judgments that I would have tended to internally place on them outside in the "real world". None of us kept in touch after dismissal; but I do have their names written in that same journal and I sometimes think of and pray for them.

After six days in the psych ward, I was released back into the care of my host mom and team leaders, and just a couple days later I flew back to Dallas for the Christmas holiday. I was in a much, much better place, both sleep-wise and emotions-wise. Not to say that all my problems were over ... far from it. But now I knew what it was like to be in-patient, and that no longer scared me the same way as before I'd had that experience.

At some point during that time, some group of 'we' {I don't remember who all was in that group!} decided that I would come back to Portland in January to finish the Portland portion of the Servant Teams with the gals I had been with, that I would see them off to East Africa, and that I would stay in Portland another week or two after that to finish the Genesis Process group that I'd been doing with another church there since sometime in October. So that was our plan!

Written Oct. 17, 2021 &  Jan. 8, 2022

Chapter 11: The Adjustment ~ Nov. 2018

November 2018 was, as I said in the title, a month of major adjustments as my head wrapped around my probable diagnosis of Bipolar 2. I posted a lot on Facebook again: Many times about God's faithfulness and what He was teaching/reminding me of; but I was also listening to my mind/body about when I needed to take breaks from my busy schedule.

And God was SO very faithful in that month! In addition to being ever-present as I drew near to me in my distress, God also took the housing situation that I was not looking forward to and used it to bless me in multiple ways!

First and foremost, my hostess became quite the motherly figure to me - buying my groceries out of her own pocket, inviting me to the writing club she had with some friends, helping me through the ups and downs, etc! Secondly, after almost a whole month of not attending church for various reasons, I quickly fell in love with my host-mom's church.

Boy, did God use that!!! :D

The pastor had an old car (I forget what year of station wagon it was, but it was rather a clunker) that he was getting a couple things worked on. When that finally finished, the car became "mine" for the remainder of my time in Portland! It was SUCH an answer to prayer to have a car to use for the long commute to the Lahash office, rather than riding a couple buses!

Even more important than the car was my relationship with the pastor's wife. One Sunday, I felt impressed to go to another lady (the children's pastor) and tell her how much her sermonette to the kiddos that morning had encouraged me too. I admitted to someone I didn't know, I think for the first time, that I had been diagnosed with bipolar. And she immediately urged me to talk to Sarah, the lead pastor's wife, because Sarah also had bipolar disorder!

So, I reached out to Pastor Jeremy and asked if he could have his wife get in touch with me--and she did! I honestly don't remember how many times we met, but Sarah was someone I could share with about my condition, knowing that there would be no judgment but only understanding because she had traveled that road before me. 

That was SUCH an encouragement! And I also took great courage from her willingness to openly live with bipolar. It wasn't a secret she felt she had to hide, even as a pastor's wife. PLUS, Sarah is a writer too!!! She definitely became a role model to me of how one can LIVE  abundantly, even with bipolar--and how that journey can be shared. If it weren't for her, I probably wouldn't have ever started this blog!

And just last month (in Dec. 2021), when I had something come up in my work life about the bipolar affecting my ability to receive and process criticism of my writing, Sarah is the one I turned to. She fit me into her busy schedule that week, and we talked and prayed together about it. So even though we hadn't been in touch for quite a while, she is STILL a blessing to me!

As Servant Teams participants, we spent the month learning more about missional theology and raising funds for our joint expenses. And as I had seen so many times before, God blessed my part of that financially through His people! Our team's big push was on Giving Tuesday, and between all of our efforts, God brought in nearly $15,000 for our trip and expenses!

Finally, a month after I had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I summoned the courage to put that out there on Facebook. Some people, I'm sure, disagree with my decision to walk openly with this mental struggle/illness that I have. But for me, it's part of the authenticity. And through it, I hope and believe God has been able to encourage others as well.

That same week, I finally started the new medication that my new psychiatrist wanted me to slowly ease into taking (because of the serious side effect it can have). With that delayed decision, it also meant that I wouldn't be leaving for East Africa with my team in January. I would need a few more weeks to be monitored on the medication. So after long discussions with the Lahash director and the Servant Teams leaders, we agreed that I would go a month later than the team. That wasn't my preference, and I questioned my decision to drag my feet on the medication front. But I was still ok with it. I even began to make tentative plans to visit Uganda and New Hope over Easter!

But there were still more changes that were ahead, as is usually the case. December would be one of the hardest months yet, with at-the-time devastating consequences.

In God's mercy, I didn't know that yet :)

This song came up on my randomized "Refocusing" music collection list as I started writing this blog post. And it's so very true and fits in with the theme of this post!

Written Jan. 2, 2022

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