Thursday, May 3, 2012

Music as Prayer that reaches us in the darkest hours...

One of the biggest reasons I returned to the Roman Catholic Church--besides the reverence observed in Mass--is the music.  I grew up with these songs, and yet, they are still melodious prayer for me.  When I am at my most down they still manage to bring me back to peace from my darkness.  Enjoy.  Yeah, cheesy I know, but I can't resist.

 

This one seems a little poignant considering my last blog entry:


And finally, a reminder that I belong to a communion which transcends time and is always praying to our Lord for the health of the whole body....




Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Life is Never Ever in the Planner

So Lent has come and gone and the path of this blog was filled not with words, but only good intentions.  The truth is, sometimes opening up to the Truth is the hardest thing to do.  Sometimes, writing out what one is going through is a wall, a roadblock, impossible.
The past Lenten season was extremely difficult.  For some time before the season I had been struggling.  William and I were supposed to be these happy newlyweds, but we got bogged down by so many forces hitting us all at once: dealing with a Mortgage on our first house, my amazing job at the Art Museum coming to a bittersweet end, my father dealing with prostate cancer, having trouble with school to the point where I was told I would be better off dropping the class.
School has, for the past few years, been my biggest joy and my biggest problem.  See, I love school.  I love sitting in the classroom and soaking up new facts, and the challenge of acing a paper or an exam.  Love it.  However, I have trouble making into the classroom when I feel down, like I've let myself down, .....or...well, you get the point.  I was supposed to have graduated last May, right before I made that magical walk down the aisle.  But because of a few fractions of points, I didn't.  I had to repeat the per-requisite for my final installment, and the semester after that, was told to repeat the final installment.  While I am an amazing student in my field, it's this language thing that was getting the better of me.  But not being able to jump this one hurdle started a snowball I couldn't contain.
I failed everyone.
I failed myself and my husband most of all.
My falling behind means that today I don't have a job.  My class schedule limits my work availability even though I am only taking this one class.  No one wants to hire me without my degree.  We are down to one income with money fading quickly, our future uncertain, and both of us emotionally exhausted. Both of our families try to help us financially, but I have a husband that is too proud for a handout.....he'd rather work himself to the bone than except help.  This fact is a strain, and difficult for me who grew up both helping and receiving help when needed.  I also lost Financial Aid a while ago, so my tuition has been coming from my family.  This fact pounds more of that pressure to succeed on.  I don't want to fail them, after all.  I don't want them to think that investing in me was a bad idea.  Trust me, I'd rather have even a part time job so I don't feel like the only thing I am here is financial strain......
And with all of these circumstances combined, I crashed.
I crashed hard, and now I struggle with the crash every day.

I have been diagnosed with Clinical Depression. 

Yes, I went to the Psych ward and everything.  Following that, I spent my time in a day program for adults struggling with Depression and Addiction of various sorts learning to use Cognitive Behavioral Therapy skills in my everyday life.  I have since been released from the program, but continuing to seek the help I know I need is beyond difficult some days.  While medication did help stabilize me, and helped me to start feeling like myself in ways I haven't felt in over a year, it ran out and I managed to fall through the cracks.  Asking for help is often difficult as well.  How do I turn to somebody working down to skin and bone to support me for more, afterall?
The problem is not my husband.  He is a wonderful, caring, sweet man who is and will always be supportive of me, and is interested in my recovery.  But he is also not God.  And he is not me.  He can't do everything and I can't expect that.

However, he did turn with me during the season of Lent to learn about this disease and to learn how to approach this on a daily basis.   We also turned our 40 days in to a time of spiritual reflection and prayer....as God is the author of everything, and we both need him more than ever.
People don't usually develop depression because of a single even in their lives.  It's often many events that happen exponentially combined with the inability to properly cope.  Most people never need to learn real coping skills....whatever they have used in the past has previously worked, and unless something major happens or many things pile on, will continue to work.  But when that coping mechanism fails you, it's time to learn a new system. 
The time brought us closer together.  That, and making an honest effort to learn how to live in the poverty we are in.  The time brought me further into the mysteries of my faith, but that is too a daily struggle.

Trust me, the depression was not planned.  I often ask God why I am like this.  Why do I despair?  Why do not the psalms lift my soul?  Why am I scared....so scared that I feel paralyzed to leave my bed, or my home?  It's a cycle too....a viscous cycle of fear and loneliness and sadness.  And all because I don't know how to cope with my failure and a state of financial strain I have never yet met.

That's what my Lent was all about: this struggle.  And me trying to claw my way up to the Light.

When I was falling, and trust me that's the best adjective for the process, I wasn't even aware I was.  I only knew that it was getting more and more difficult to handle issues in my life, until suddenly I could handle none.  I didn't understand the roller coaster of my emotions.  This isn't rational, so why am I crying myself to sleep every night?  I couldn't understand why I felt out of control of my own skin and bones.  Why I slowly ceased enjoying those things I once reveled in --- although that one has been a cycle that has taken years to fall into passive nothingness.  I couldn't understand why I couldn't find a reason for my life despite all these superficially good things in my life: new house, new marriage. 

I think my depression is an incredibly complicated thing.  I didn't get here over night for only one reason.  All I know is that until I can handle all the many facets of my life that brought me to this point, I simply have to live with it;  I simply have to know what my body and mind are capable of and take care accordingly to get back the joy I once had (A true loss as a Christian, since I have always believed that Christians were known for their joy, but that's another blog).

I spent all of Lent learning how to cope and deal.  I think now I am ready to tell my story.