The Life of Glory

"Mental Problems," and "Panic Attacks," are labels that limit and frustrate us. Us, being me and anyone like me who has been taught that we are, in fact, limited . I say "taught" because I have fought  this teaching tooth and nail and limb my whole life in order to achieve what I want. Remember everyone asking you what you wanted to be when you "grow up" and having to research colleges and majors in high school? Well, I studied and explored my options and was excited about my conclusion. However, when I went to an adult in my life and told her, she told me I wouldn't be able to handle it. Without hesitation. When I came to my own defense she continued to shoot it down.  She was right at the moment, but not because my anxiety wouldn't have been able to deal. She was right because no one believed I could do anything . The fact of the matter is that because I had mental problems there wasn't a single adult in my life that believ

“Too hard.” How many times have you heard that phrase? I’ve heard it a lot. When you wrestle with mental health issues, this phrase and concept especially seems to come up. In church, it was too hard to please God because “all have sinned and fall short.” At home it was too hard to please my family because of my uncontrollable emotional outbursts and overwhelming circumstances. Around everyone else it was too hard to be who they wanted me to be because I hyperventilated and started experiencing painful muscle spasms they all got uncomfortable with. It often felt like every place I turned, especially as a teen, everyone expected me to be someone else . When I was young I clung to my Christian faith like God was the only life raft there was to save me, but I couldn’t quite get in and so I constantly felt like I was about to drown. I clung and clung, trying to feel accepted by someone as people (peers and adults alike) alienated me because I made them uncomfortable. It was

I always hated being told I had mental problems when I was a kid. As if I had no choice but to succumb to erratic panic, heart palpitations, and other emotional outbursts everyone deemed as my mental problems . How is it possible that my mind could have a "mind of its own," so to speak? Am I a slave to my own body? Most people won't tell you that you can control your mind. The Buddhist idea of enlightenment is essentially about having control of your mind to find nirvana in absolute truth. The Torah is filled with encouragement that nothing commanded is too hard to do . Yet, psychiatrists told me that I'd just have to try to prevent panicking. As if they didn't think that I could.  All of life is one day at a time of new experiences, hurtles, struggles, etc., that we have never faced before. It is impossible to prevent freaking out from every single one of those new experiences. The real problem is that freaking out is considered wrong. When I was

One of the most difficult things about growing up in the church with a blanket of "mental illness" over your head is that its theology can result in some pretty messed up conclusions. For instance, Christian theology taught me that humans are awful apart from Christ. Doesn't sound too bad, but add the plethora of sins we supposedly can't help but commit even "after" or "with" Christ and it becomes impossible to please God no matter what you do. The answer they have to this is heaven. So, I naturally concluded that dying and going to heaven was my answer and sought to make that happen sooner rather than later. I was alone at home on a hot afternoon. A young teenager, angry and hopeless and in tears. I had decided that slitting my wrist and bleeding out was the way I was going to end it all. Right then. With the knife to my wrist, someone said my name. I put the knife down and called out, afraid someone had come home and would catch me. I wal