God and Mental Illness

Have you ever thought about how weird it is, to trust God? I believe (most of the time) that God is there, but I worry often, probably a lot. It is like I trust and doubt at the same time. It is also weird, how so many of us worry so much, as if it helps anything. If I took action in a productive, healthy manner, half as much as I worry, I would be so much better off.

But back to God. Trusting God is a strange thing, because, what if God doesn’t exist? What if we’re wrong? What if I’m placing my trust in an illusion, a delusion? How much of an investment should I place in my faith, and how much, in more practical problem solving? Is God the answer to everything? Some people refuse medical care, trusting that God will save them, heal them. Is that possible? Most of the time, it seems those people die. That doesn’t say much for faith, or for God. But, maybe God also expects us to think for ourselves, use our capacity for reason and solving problems.

But what about when that seems impossible, when we are desperate, anxious, scared? What do we do? Some would say to pray about it. Some would say to seek counsel, wise counsel. Some would say to do both. Trusting is challenging for me. I’m not sure why. I know that growing up, sometimes things were difficult for me and other members of my family. My parents got divorced, and my mom was depressed a lot. She was overwhelmed with her problems, and didn’t have much energy to dedicate to me and my brother. My brother and I fought all the time, hard. I was older, and stronger, and he bore the brunt of that reality. Years later, I still feel very sad about that time in my life, the things that happened, and the things that didn’t happen. And now I wonder how that time affected me and my brother mentally. And, especially now that I know I have a mental illness, I suspect that others did too, and that some still do. How widespread, I’m not sure. How far back it goes, not sure either. Could be very far, and very widespread. I suspect that many families that encounter as many problems as my family has, also encounter mental illness.

And, speaking of mental illness, what if religious faith is a mental illness? What if it is a kind of social, mental, psychological disconnect, maybe even a serious delusion? That is scary to think about, especially for those of us who take great comfort in our faith, especially in times of fear and doubt. Again, what if there is no divine being, no Creator of the Universe, no protective Father, taking good care of his children? Many of us who believe would be completely at a loss if that was taken away, and sometimes, in times of fear and doubt, it momentarily disappears, until we mentally, emotionally, reach for it, for Him, Her. After all, none of us want to be overwhelmed, none of us want to be alone. But I do still wonder, what if God is just Santa Claus for adults? It’s scary to consider, really.

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Till might comes believe hope try

Hold fast desperately trust only

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Fend

Many dole topple. Devout were ale. Will bark, will divide. Round before lots. Into all up. Real yuck. Bend to. Nick weird. Roving wand ill wall. Waver cube if tempered deal wail all. Tube tight sorted bare near. Tall soul, wheel tell. With tender types veal wears take. Angular tell walk order rule. Lead tower beautiful besides. Bale seep tale. Reach take make work sift. Lag wake rot ear rail toward sill. Rude feet wonder all.

Dear If

Hello. My Random. Do you and live real slight beyond? Name hit dip how. I wish real motley. Sometimes, belief cries empty. Even damn, slick about deed help. Lack doubt aim raw. Do above naught can. Hell seem win. Beer. Now, sift rowdy psych. Every same never be. Elbow will sick. Mere russet still if. Wonky bit lift wad. Were rough, fear bout. Like. It soothe balk sound. Dear Rick loud tame. I el tift render walk.

Thankful

Love. Leisure. Emptiness. Somber.

Yearning. Wishing things were different. 

Hand in hand. Holding your heart

Close to me. Spite. Bitterness.

Laughing. Loneliness. But,

A balance comes with age, with wisdom.

Time helps you handle life’s ups and downs.

Real. Genuine. Grasping all the parts

That we experience. Biting a bit, giving.

Treasuring all of it. Allowing everything it’s place.

Accepting. Moving on. Wondering what will come next,

Enjoying the adventure, the unexpectedness of it all.

Making plans, then canceling them.

Changing your mind. Commitment.

Staying true to yourself. Hanging in there.

Being there. Helping. Doing your part.

Hoping. Dreaming. Staying. Sorting it out.

Loving life, no matter what happens.

It is all part of it. It wouldn’t be the same

Without every part. Thankful.

What Seems to Be

And there were little things, powerful things. Stop! Turn back! I scream, but there is no one to hear. No one left in this world who cares. It is the end, above and below. All things come to a stop. There is no air. Nothing moves at all. I don’t see any light, but neither is it dark. The world is a blank surface, empty, where there is nothing to do, nothing to be.

And then, just as sudden,  all begins to be again. There is movement all around, scurrying. Across the surface, things cling, to anything, whatever is nearby. Can I exist again? Can I be? I want to feel the rhythm of life in my body. I concentrate now, focusing on my breathing. I feel the warmth in my chest, and the coldness of my feet. There is much movement: a squirrel climbs up a tree. A breeze pushes into my hair, gently swaying a few locks across my forehead. I think about the blood pulsing through my body. I want to say I am empty, but instead, I realize, I am full. I am content.

A few moments pass, and I just stand there. I look around. I am standing in my front yard. I must be weird. I am alone, except for God’s creatures, doing as they always do. I think about myself instead, which is my tendency. I am embarrassed. How long have I been standing out here? Have things happened as they seem, or was it all in my head? I look around again, gazing down the street. I see a neighbor, a few houses down, getting into their car. I wave, but he takes no notice, which is normal. Why do neighbors wave to each other, despite the fact that they have never spoken a word? I guess it makes us feel like we are giving something back, saying thanks for being there, thanks for never bothering me, thanks for being you. It all runs together. It is a seemless tapestry that has its own beauty, in its simplicity. Really, it doesn’t bother me. It is almost a comfort, staying in my own private space. I prefer to be in my own world, without interruption.

Now, to continue. How will I move on, now that the world has returned to me? So much has happened, and, yet, from the looks of it, nothing at all. It must have been an an illusion. Perhaps a better word is hallucination. Am I schizophrenic? I dismiss that possibility, for, at the least, it makes me uncomfortable. How many things passing through our minds each day do we dismiss for the benefit of our own comfort, our own convenience? So trivial, so irresponsible. I wonder.

Pea

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