So I Had a Nervous Breakdown...

 

We use the phrase more flippantly than we should... "nervous breakdown".  And while it may be a contextually appropriate expression when we feel overwhelmed or stressed, it's not always a truthful statement - by definition - of the person using it.  (It's certainly not the most politically correct terminology in 2021, but I'm more into being kind and considerate as a practice than being PC.) 

I've reflected A LOT on my mental health in my healing months, and I've come to the conclusion that that's what I'm going to call it.  My nervous breakdown.  It's my truth.  By definition, it includes the following symptoms...

If that doesn't describe my life over the 2019-2020 season, I don't know what will.  So I'm owning my truth and moving forward in it.  But in my recovery and reflection, I have a lot of things to say that need to be said to continue fighting against the stigma of mental health issues.

You see, people throw the expression around, including other related expressions like “I’m so OCD”, which admittedly, I’ve been guilty of saying before... but the difference is that I’ve been officially diagnosed as having obsessive compulsive disorder.  Stop claiming a trait as your identity when you know nothing of the true suffering of either diagnosis!  Some others - including other Christians I’ve known of - have not been so lucky in their fight. They succumbed to the darkness of their compulsions and left this earth. I attest that it must have truly felt like their only option. I have stood in that darkness, my friend. I have honestly felt that my husband, my family, my friends, this whole world would be better off without me. And people claim in Pharisaical superiority that they’d rather listen to your story than your eulogy. But don’t you dare share that or say that unless you mean it. Because in my observations - as a mental health sufferer - people are only comfortable when sufferers share the “right amount” and “within the right parameters”.  

We "applaud" people who are being brave in their fight... as long as they're fighting silently and privately.  If their outward struggles and cries for help make us uncomfortable, insecure, uncertain, or convicted... that's right... WE want THEM to stop making US uncomfortable.  Our friends and family are struggling to find the purpose in living each day, but we want to judge their every move as selfish, attention-seeking, overly dramatic, or just plain CRAZY.

I, along with many other sufferers, took to social media sometimes to share my wounds.  Perhaps too openly.  There's not a thing I can do to retract that now.  But for myself and others, there should be grace and forgiveness to cover those mistakes.  Now granted... discerning the difference in true sufferers and those seeking attention can be difficult because there are truly drama queens out there in a "15-minutes-of-fame" kind of world.  But if we are to err, shouldn't we err on the side of grace and comfort?  Let's take someone at his or her word until proven otherwise.  We cannot judge, for example, that someone is openly sharing and bearing their wounds to be hurtful to someone else or to be attention-seeking.  When you want the emotional pain to stop that badly, you'll do anything and everything to try to make it stop.  When it's physical pain, that's easier... go to the ER or another doctor and they can see your wounds and help you.  When you're in emotional pain, you often cannot get the treatment you need so you try to take matters into your own hands.  And this is precisely why we have astronomical suicide rates in this country.  

Bottom line... we honor someone’s tragedy and trauma as long as it’s visible and tangible to us. 

But by selecting which traumas we validate and which we don’t, we rob ourselves of the opportunity to learn from others and to grow ourselves better, wiser, and stronger for an unknown future that we might even face ourselves one day.  Because you just don't know.  Even I used to be fine, until one day, I wasn't anymore.  

Then let's consider the lack of support in the church for mental health, and it’s heartbreaking.  We are to be among the most compassionate, servant-hearted people on this earth, but we can be the most back-biting at times.  Don't hurt your brethren like that!  Someone who's suffering so shouldn't have to play mental gymnastics to figure out who is safe enough to be a trusted confidant.  My husband and I learned the hard way that you have to be so vigilant about the people in whom you choose to confide.  

And while I'm talking about being "judgmental" (think also: quick to hear, slow to speak), I want to be inclusive of every sufferer, no matter how they're coping, because I wanted that so badly when I was in the throes of the abyss.  Someone posted the following quote the other day, no doubt well-intended or a reflection of her own circumstances, but I wanted to scream and shout, "THAT'S NOT THE ONLY WAY!"

A strong woman is also the woman who cannot smile in the morning, but she wipes her eyes as her tears continue to fall and goes about her day.  A strong woman is also the one who posts on Facebook how badly she's hurting and wants complete healing more than anything.  A strong woman is also the woman who cannot leave the house or go to work in her despair because she is too mentally and functionally compromised to be "at herself."  And a strong woman is also the woman who thought about taking her life, but she chose to fight one more day.  Strength comes in so many different shapes and situations.  Who am I to say that some other fighter isn't strong because her mascara stains give her away?

So yep. I am calling it what it is.  I had a nervous breakdown.  And now I'm finding myself again.  Hopefully there's a new and improved version of Erika waiting just on the other side of this valley.  I can't wait to meet her, and I can't wait for you to get to know her too.