Karma in A day in the life...

Last night I called my best friend to apologize to her and ask for her forgiveness. Why? Because it was weighing heavy on my heart, and she deserved it.

My best friend has bipolar disorder. She was diagnosed about 15 years ago after having a breakdown at work. At the time, and for a long time, I had never dealt with someone with a mental illness. I mean, my sister was messed up, but we didn't see much of each other or have much to do with each other, so as far as I was concerned she was just a drunken fuckup. Years later I realized that the drug and alcohol abuse were her self-medicating, and a huge symptom of mental illness. My sister also has bipolar disorder, and now that she's clean and sober and taking her medication, she's a totally different, totally amazing woman and I love her so much and am so proud of her.

But anyway, back to my best friend. After she was diagnosed we would sometimes go for a year or more without speaking. I would call and call but she would never return my calls and I became extremely bitter and angry and hurt. In my mind there was no reason she couldn't pick up the damn phone and at least let me know how she was doing. I was supposed to be her best friend, so what the fuck?? I managed to still "keep tabs" on her through her husband, but inside I was still simmering.

I sat in judgment of her. I would think, she's just not trying hard enough, she's using her "mental illness" as an excuse, she could get better if she wanted to, and my favorite - she obviously doesn't care about our friendship as much as I do. I don't think my moral high horse could've gotten much higher. But you know what they say....the higher (or better) you think you are, the harder the fall. And fall I did.

I had been treated for depression for many years, but that's ALL I had (even though I had more than one psychiatrist tell me depression wasn't all that was wrong with me). I was stronger than my friend and my sister, so there was NO WAY I had bipolar disorder or anything else. So I had depression...so what? I'd been through enough shit in my lifetime that I was entitled to be depressed on occasion. My best friend and my sister hadn't been through the crap I had, yet they're more emotionally and mentally fucked up than I am....how pathetic were they??

In February of last year (2013) I started a very stressful job. The longer I was there, the worse things got. My psychiatrist had to up my anti-depressant and start me on an anti-anxiety medication....but things still kept getting worse. About nine months after starting there, I found myself counting out my sleeping pills (my husband was out of town) and being upset that there weren't enough there to do the job. I couldn't stop crying. I would cry all the way to work, throughout the day while I was at work, all the way home from work, and while at home. I prayed and prayed and prayed....all day, every day. I kept telling myself that if I just prayed more and prayed harder then I would be okay. After all, I was a Godly woman, and Godly women aren't weak and are NOT mentally ill!

I ended up in a psychiatric hospital for six days. Unbelievable. Me, in a psychiatric facility? How was that possible when I was so much stronger than my weak best friend and my weak sister? I was told yes, Amy, you have bipolar disorder. Ummm...no I don't! I fought the psychiatrist there and refused meds for bipolar disorder for the first few days. I walked the halls at all hours of the night, cleaned the activity room constantly, wiped down the telephones with antibacterial wipes every chance I got, and hardly slept. Finally on the third day there, totally exhausted and unable to stop crying, I agreed to take the meds. That night I slept.

I was released a few days later with the understanding that I would continue the meds, see my psychiatrist and therapist on a weekly basis, and participate in group therapy every other week. I agreed and went home....feeling like the weakest person who ever walked the earth. What kind of Godly woman was I? Obviously not very. I also obviously hadn't prayed very hard or enough, or I wouldn't be in this situation. When did I get so weak?

I continued to ask that question for weeks...to myself and to my therapist and psychiatrist. Christians aren't mentally ill, so what happened to me? When did this weakness overtake me?

Now, I go to a wonderful church and have made amazing friends there, but I have to tell you, many Christians do not understand mental illness and do think it is a weakness. I actually had a woman tell me that I never would have ended up in the hospital if I hadn't taken my eyes off the Lord. True story....she actually said that to me. This happened not too long after I got out of the hospital, so that only reinforced my feelings of being weak and pathetic.

But God uses everything for the good of His people who love Him. I started talking more to my sister and my best friend and really understanding what they had gone through and were still going through. I learned that they weren't weak at all. If anything, they were stronger than I was! They came to accept their diagnosis and did what they had to do to get better. All I did was fight it and sit in judgment of others.

I know better now. After a few med changes, I'm happy to say I'm doing much better. I'm not a weak woman, or an ungodly woman, or a weak Christian, or anything like that. I'm a Christian woman who has a mental illness, who has to take medications to manage the part of my brain that isn't working correctly.

I'm ashamed that I was the way I was...it's very embarrassing to admit. But my best friend and my sister have forgiven me, I'm learning to forgive myself (and certain people at church who have spoken out of ignorance), and most importantly, God forgives me. I'm a work in progress....perfectly imperfect.

I love you, best friend, and I'm eternally grateful that you heard me out and forgave me for being so selfish, self-righteous and judgmental. You're amazing and I admire you more than you'll ever know.

And that's my story of how karma took a huge bite out of my arse :-)