Our miniature rhododendron is blooming.

We had a lovely home day. A bowl of oats. Andy Griffith reruns. Knitting. A visit from my bonus daughter and her husband. We watched the most recent episodes of American Idol. It was chilly and rained off and on all day. At 4:30, we bundled up and headed to town for the youngest granddaughter’s softball game.

We stopped and grabbed a sandwich on the way and at the last minute, Mr. FixIt called to find out if the game was still on and sure enough…it was cancelled. We whipped into one of our favorite discount stores to pick up some pool chemicals. It’ll be time to start working on that project pretty soon.

When we walked back into the house and put our things away, I asked my sweetheart to please wait to turn the news on because I just don’t have it in me. When the news anchor says, “I must warn you, these images may be too disturbing to watch.” I’ve only watched the news a handful of times since Ukraine was invaded. And each time was worse than the last. Earlier this week, I saw the bodies in the streets. I simply cannot do that. It is not good for my health…mental or physical. 

I do read the news online to get the gist of what’s going on in the world. I don’t have to read all the stories or look at all the pictures to get an understanding of what’s happening. I read a devastating story about a Russian woman who lives in the states. She was a normal person, a good wife and mother, till she started following the news of the Russian invasion. Something broke in her. She became convinced Russian spies were going to come take her children and abuse them. She became paranoid and heard voices. She started drinking heavily and became violent. And finally, she killed her youngest son with her bare hands. In court, she turned to family members in the gallery and told them she loved them and she doesn’t understand what has happened. 

What happened is what they used to call a “nervous breakdown”. It a sort of trash basket description of a psychotic break, anxiety, or depression. When I was growing up, once in a while I would hear Mom talking about someone having a nervous breakdown. I sort of looked at it as emotional exhaustion. Something that seemed to happen when people were under an inordinate amount of stress. In my child mind, you got to go into the hospital for a nice, weeklong rest from housework and child rearing. It didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

Till it happened to me.

I was going through a terrible stretch in my marriage to Hubby #2. I was stressed, sleep deprived, and had a baby and a sixteen year old. I coped with alcohol and prescription medications. Sometimes I handled things well…other times, not so much. When he’d had all he could take, he was done. My marriage was over and I was so far down the hill, I didn’t know how I would ever get back up again.

I had that “nervous breakdown”. I overdosed on two full bottles of medicine. After two or three days in our local hospital, I went into a behavioral unit for a couple of weeks to get my **** together. That’s when I found out, it wasn’t a nice week off full of tea and cookies and naps in a darkened room. It was brutal and flat out scary. This poor woman who resorted to murder was out of her mind and it doesn’t sound like she was getting any psychiatric help, even though the police had been called to their home at some point. 

I am afraid there will be a tsunami of mental health crises in the aftermath of the pandemic and the current events in the world. I’ve had moments in the last year when anxiety overtook me. But, I’ve been to the bottom in the past and I have more tools in my toolbox than I did prior to that hospitalization. I could recognize now if I needed help more urgently. Not everyone has those tools or that insight into their own behaviors. I urge anyone who is struggling with their mental health to reach out to someone for help. You can start with your doctor or clergy person, your spouse or a trusted friend. 

There is absolutely no shame in asking for help with your mental health. No more so than asking for help with a broken arm or a bad gallbladder. Perhaps this time in our civilization will be the catalyst to finally let go of some of the stigmas surrounding mental illness. No one should be left to their own devices during these challenging times to keep both oars in the water. If you are struggling, please reach out to someone who cares. 

We may not be in the same boat, but we are in this storm together. Let’s walk with each other and lift each other up.

?

“The waters closed in over me to take my life; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped about my head at the roots of the mountains. I went down to the land whose bars closed upon me forever; yet you brought up my life from the pit, O Lord my God. When my life was fainting away, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came to you, into your holy temple.”

Jonah 2:5-7 ESV