Elizabeth | Hope in a Hopeless World

Healed

Bipolar /

Elizabeth / May 24, 2021

While ringing up the wrapping paper and first birthday card for our nephew, the cashier asks, “Would you like a bag?” “No thank you.” I respond. “Unless it started raining again…” I add looking out the front of the store at the clouds in the sky. “Yeah, Mother Nature is so bipolar.” The cashier says with a chuckle. I grit my teeth, quickly take my receipt and head out the door. The weather isn’t bipolar, but I am. I thought to myself as I got into my car. I really wish people wouldn’t use mental illnesses as adjectives. This has always been a serious pet peeve of mine. Whether it is to describe a person that is acting irrationally or a way to joke about Minnesota’s weather, it is not accurate, and it is not funny. Bipolar disorder is a real illness that real people wake up with and manage every single day. I know I am ultra-sensitive to this. And I know most people aren’t trying to be offensive. I know strangers andacquaintances can’t tell that my mood fluctuates throughout the day and with the seasons. So, I should just lighten up, right? Well, no. We need to watch our words. We need to be kind. We need to be mindful of the truth that those around us may be struggling or may have gone through something in the past that is still affecting them today. I usually just let these comments roll off my back. If they know me, I get that side-ways glance, with the apologetic look that says, “Whoops, I shouldn’t have said that.” It’s fine, I think to myself. They didn’t mean anything personal by it. Maybe they just momentarily forgot because I’m doing well, I’m stable. Some would even consider me in recovery from my mental illness, but can you really be healed from a mental illness? Can you be healed from an unpredictable beast that once landed you in a psychiatric hospital and requires daily management to keep you from ending up there again? Satan wants me to believe that I’m not healed and never will be. He drops these hurtful words off the tongues of man to trip me up. He whispers that my bipolar disorder has a strong-hold on me that will prevent me from living out my dreams. But, guess what, Satan? While I may have the internal scars and three little pills that remind me daily what I’m up against, my heart is healed and I have been made whole. I have been healed by a loving, never failing, powerful God. He has taken my pain, my wounds and my imperfections and woven them togetherbeautifully to be used for His glory. And the best thing about healing is that it is available to all of us. We know that the hurts of this world leave scars that can be devastating and life changing. We may feel as though nothing will ever change or get better. We may fear that we will never feel like ourselves again. Don’t believe the lies Satan uses to distract us. If we put our faith and trust in the ultimate healer, we will be made whole again. “Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.” And the woman was healed at that moment.” Matthew 9:22

When Things Don’t Go as Planned

Pain & Purpose /

Elizabeth / December 7, 2020

I snuggled into my recliner with my favorite mug and enjoyed the quiet morning. I took in the familiar taste of the peppermint mocha creamer. I decided to set an early alarm so I would have more than enough time to get ready, and as I noted the four hour mark, I walked to the sink and rinsed my mug. The night before I had precisely followed all the pre-surgery directions to shower and then wait an hour before using special cloths to sanitize my skin. I re-read the instructions for the fifteenth time. No food after midnight. Only drink water and Gatorade until up to 4 hours beforehand. That morning we arrived early, so my sister snagged a front row parking spot and we took advantage of the extra time to catch up. Since she couldn’t come in with me, we exchanged a hug in the car and I told her I would see her later that afternoon. I went into the lobby and stopped at the screening desk, explaining that I was Covid positive last month and wasn’t required to have a test prior to surgery. The elderly woman nodded and instructed me to head to the fourth floor. After checking in with the receptionist, I picked the sunniest spot in the waiting room. As I sat down, I noticed the TV screen with a list of patients by number. The man in the chair across from me fidgeted anxiously in his seat while looking up at the screen. I joked that it reminded me of the airport and he pointed out which number I was and said he could tell by the time I had checked in. He seemed incredibly nervous, breathing anxiously, so I said a quick prayer for him as he was called back. I was next. The nurse introduced himself and went through all of the procedural questions before leaving the room so I could change. After putting on the hospital gown and slipper socks, he returned to the room and stood awkwardly against the wall across from the bed. “Since you had coffee with cream, we aren’t able to do your surgery this morning. We could do it at 1:30, however, your surgeon isn’t available this afternoon. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to call his office to reschedule.” I felt a huge wave of confusion, realization of what I had done and a mix of emotions rush over me in a matter of just a few minutes. Another nurse entered the room and explained the risks and confirmed there was nothing else we could do. They left me alone to get dressed as tears flooded my eyes. I was so mad at myself. There was no one else to blame. It was all on me. I was incredibly frustrated that I had messed up something that I had planned for so long. As I got back in the car, my sister comforted me, “It just wasn’t meant to be. There is a reason this is happening. Maybe your surgeon didn’t get enough sleep last night or something.” I agreed with her in my heart, but this wasn’t the plan. I had just got everything lined up and figured out. Now it was all unraveling before me because of my own mistake, and there was nothing I could do about it. After more tears and several phone calls, I eventually accepted the fact that it just wasn’t going to happen that day. “What would you like to do? Are you up for shopping, or did you just want to go home?” My sister asked after I hung up the phone. “Maybe some retail therapy will help you feel better.” “Let’s go Christmas shopping. All I’m going to do at home is be sad and upset.” I responded. So we decided to make the most of it. We had a great day together that stretched into the night. We ate, we laughed, we drank more coffee (after I spilled it all over shoe) and successfully filled the trunk with Christmas gifts. Later that night I read this beautiful and timely Evening Blessing from Susie Larson, “May you – in spite of your mistakes and missteps – see how God’s love & provision more than cover you. May you – in your weakness – experience abounding grace that makes you divinely strong. Where you’ve experienced loss and brokenness, may you know healing, wholeness, and redemption. Your Redeemer is for you and He is strong. Sleep well tonight.” Sometimes things don’t go as planned. At least not according to our plans. However, we don’t have to let our circumstances dictate or steal our joy. In fact, God may have something even better in mind and he can always use what we offer to him, no matter how much we messed it up. We all make mistakes and experience disappointment, loss and pain. Some of us more deeply than others. Sometimes our course abruptly changes and we don’t always understand why. Maybe he is protecting us from something we know nothing about. And maybe he will use our pain for a purpose greater than we could ever imagine. This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24 Author: Elizabeth

Free Dishes

Thankfulness /

Elizabeth / November 25, 2020

Dishes off Facebook Marketplace. More importantly, FREE dishes. They’re used…they have some chips. That’s okay, I’ll take them. We loaded them into my car and as if I needed to explain why I was accepting free dishes, I shared with the stranger that I recently left my home and it was just easier to leave the dishes. She asked how many kids I had and if this would be the only dishes we would have. I told her yes, but that it was okay, this set will be more than enough. She said she had another set and insisted I take those too. “I’ve been through two divorces and both times I left behind most of my things…I get it.” I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her again. Then as I left she thoughtfully told me to message her if I ever wanted to talk. As I drove home with not one, but two, sets of free dishes clanking around in the back seat of my car, I reflected on how I have been blessed over and over by the kindness of others in the past few months. From family, friends and complete strangers. Both big things and little things. So to say I am grateful this Thanksgiving week is a huge understatement. I am in absolute AWE over how God cares for us and abundantly provides over and over. He uses the people in our lives and strangers that he intentionally places in our path to bless us and also to be a blessing. As we count our blessings this Thanksgiving, remember that we all have our stuff. Stuff we carry. Stuff we move. Stuff we leave behind. Stuff we need. Stuff we give. Stuff we receive. Some stuff is free and some costs us a great deal. And like free dishes, we all have chips. Some small and barely noticeable, and others big and ugly. There is one thing for certain though: God will use our stuff, chips and all, for something beautiful. “Our love for others is our grateful response to the love God first demonstrated to us.” 1 John 4:19 Author: Elizabeth

Forgive Your Past and Be Set Free

Forgiveness /

Elizabeth / July 29, 2020

There is a saying, “Don’t let the past haunt you.” I have definitely allowed this to happen in my own life. Past hurts, past choices, past relationships. Past circumstances and past seasons. While it’s good to learn from our past, we should not dwell on it and allow it to take over our present life. I recently started seeing a new therapist and after one session she already had me thinking about how my past is affecting my present. She began putting names to events I have gone through and helped me realize that several of them were traumatic. I am still holding onto them in one way or another because I haven’t allowed myself to forgive my past. In an interview entitled How to Forgive and Let Go of Your Past, Joyce Meyer said: “If people can understand that as long as they don’t forgive, they are poisoning themselves. Hating somebody that’s hurt you is like taking poison hoping they’ll die.” Joyce acknowledged that a lot people want to forgive, but don’t know how to do it. She says we can decide to forgive, but not actually walk it out in our lives by taking the necessary action. We have to recognize this and acknowledge that when we do this, we are still taking in that poison. There are several actions we can put into practice in different areas of our lives that can help us deal with unresolved bitterness, forgive our past and ultimately overcome evil with good: 1) Thought Action: Change how you think about others and your past experiences by praying for blessings for those that have hurt you. This can be a very difficult thing to do, but also transformational. Instead of thinking negatively about your hurts and your past, ask God to bless others through it. 2) Talking Action: Stop talking unkindly about people who have hurt you. Words are powerful. When we speak unkindly about someone we are ultimately allowing them tocontinue to hurt us, sometimes years after the incident occurred. 3) Feeling Action: Ask God to help change how you feel. Sometimes we can change how we think and talk, but our feelings don’t follow suit. We might still feel angry, sad, orfearful about a person or experience. It will take time for these feelings to subside, but with patience and help, you can overcome the feelings of hurt. 4) Walking Action: Do things God prompts you to do, even if you don’t want to or don’t feel like it. This is where you put yourself out there. You’ve worked on your thoughts, your words and your feelings and now it’s time to put them into practice. I have many things to work through, but just like we can forgive others and forgive ourselves, we can also forgive our past. We don’t have to let it hold us captive. We can forgive our past and be set free.

Elizabeth’s Truth

Bipolar, MH Awareness, You are not alone /

Elizabeth / May 14, 2020

#YouAreNotAlone #MentalHealthAwarenessMonth How has mental illness impacted your life? Mental illness has affected my life in many ways. It can keep me in bed all day. It can give me boosts of energy. It can make me emotionless. It can make me irritable, bring deep sadness and moments of elation. It is challenging and ever-changing. Mental illness has a mind of its own, inside my own mind. What does mental health look like for you? Mental health has been a learning process. It has been about getting to know myself. It has been acceptance of my illness and treatment regimen as part of my reality, but not allowing it to define me, or what I can accomplish. It has been a team effort of doctors, therapists, family, friends and other peers who live with mental illness. It has been about learning to let others in. Helping others in their own journeys in living with mental illness has become my passion and has given me purpose in life. I want to be part of setting a new example for future generations to come so that it becomes the norm to be open about mental illness. Together we can live successful and happy lives by providing each other with the support we need.

Mystery of Joy

Love. Joy. Kindness /

Elizabeth / February 8, 2020

“But, do you feel joy?” Our mental health support group had been discussing the side effects of medication, in particular flattened emotions. That “meh” attitude towards everything. These beautiful people, new friends who I have had the pleasure of getting to know over the past few years, were describing the difficulty of not experiencing emotions. Normal, everyday human emotions that most people don’t think twice about. One was struck by the fact that he wasn’t excited for the new Star Wars movie that came out. Another described not being able to enjoy the beauty of nature like she used to. We discussed how long it takes to actually feel again. “Yes, I do,” was his initial, slightly hesitant response. A few minutes later he asked if we could go back to the question as he wanted to clarify his answer. He then explained that he has felt happiness but doesn’t think he has ever experienced true joy that he has heard other people talk about. I admired his honest and specific answer. It was his clarification that made me start to think about the difference between the two – happiness and joy. Is happiness a temporary feeling and joy a long-lasting state of being? If so, then can one feel unhappy and still be joyful at the same time? It got me thinking about my own life, current and past circumstances, and different periods of time when I didn’t feel happy. Or was it that I didn’t have joy? Being the nerd that I am, I looked up the dictionary definitions of these two similar, yet different things: Happy = Feeling or showing pleasure or contentment Joy = The emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation. If it were a math equation, which would be the correct answer? A. Happy > Joy B. Joy < Happy C. Joy > Happy Just kidding, this is not a test (but the correct answer, in my opinion, is C). Okay, so if we can agree that joy is greater than happiness (meaning more fulfilling), then what sets it apart? Happiness is a “surface” feeling. It is something you can feel or experience in a moment but isn’t something that usually lasts very long. Joy on the other hand is a deep, soul filling, heartwarming state of emotional being. It can’t easily be dissolved or distinguished by life’s circumstances and can withstand hardships. Happiness can come and go, throughout the day or week, the months, or the years. But what about joy? Is it available to each of us at any time? “It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.” – David Steindl-Rast When I read this quote it reminded me again of that pressing question asked during our discussion, “Do you feel joy?” If it really is gratitude that makes us joyful, then what if joy isn’t something we find, feel, or experience at all? What if joy is a way of life that we much seek, learn and master? My current truth: I have been allowing the temporary circumstances of life overshadow the overwhelming joy that I know is available to me. One of my “temporary circumstances” that doesn’t feel temporary at all is my depression. Depression can be a persistent, dark and seemingly endless cloud over our lives. Depression can decrease our happiness – the feeling of pleasure. But are we giving it too much power? Are we allowing it to steal our joy or are we diligently and intentionally taking steps towards gratitude and joy every day? Depression is serious. It will bring you down. It will take you out. With one swift blow straight to the shins. We must get up. We must push ahead, slowly, yes. But forward. Once small step at a time. Did I mention, you don’t have to do this alone? Reach out, lean on others, and accept help. Embrace hope. Cultivate gratitude. Choose joy.

Worst Day

Parenting, You are not alone /

Elizabeth / July 22, 2019

Not long before celebrating his eighth birthday a few weeks ago, my son asked me, “Mom, have you had a worst day of your life?” We were out kayaking on an overcast, yet calm afternoon and the question really caught me off guard. While I could think of several days that I would consider my worst, some incredibly recent and others not so much, there wasn’t really anything that was appropriate to share with his sweet innocent heart. I paused to choose my words carefully and briefly answered, “Oh I’ve had some pretty bad days honey, but nothing that God hasn’t been able to make better.” As vague as the answer was, it was the truth…at least eventually. Now, if one of my good friends had asked me this same question, I would have responded much differently. I would have explained the great pain and heartache that I experienced within weeks of the birth of my son. The feelings of euphoria and superwoman power and energy during and shortly after my pregnancy, and then the debilitating crash in the aftermath. I would have confided about the recollections of my psychiatric hospitalization and the long road of recovery that followed. While these are not the sort of memories I enjoy reminiscing about, I choose to share my story with others. Especially if I think it can help the person on the receiving end somehow. I truly believe there is power in my story. In every person’s story. At a recent service, our pastor spoke about how God takes our broken lives and pieces them back together in a beautiful way. Just like the Japanese art of a broken vase fused back together with gold, the final product is more valuable than ever before. If there is something broken in your life right now, there is hope. Some day, some how, it can be restored and made beautiful again. And there is nothing He can’t work with. It may not look exactly as you had planned or imagined, but that doesn’t make the end result any less wonderful. Later in the day, as I proudly watched my growing son insist on carrying all the grocery bags in from the car, I reflected on how much has changed over the past 8 years. As much as we might not be able to see it in the moment, the worst days (or weeks, months, or even years) of our lives can be preparing and equipping us for something so much greater than we could ever imagine. Stay hopeful friends. And don’t forget to reach out, and look up, during those worst days. We weren’t meant to do any of this alone. Author: Elizabeth

Open Hearts

Love. Joy. Kindness /

Elizabeth / June 26, 2019

My husband and I were out for a simple anniversary dinner at our favorite local diner. A hole in the wall place really, but they have delicious burgers, tater tots with just the right amount of crisp, and mostly friendly staff. As I went to sit down with my one-trip salad bar plate, I noticed the waitress cleaning the booth across from us. I had seen her earlier, turning chairs upside down on tops of the tables and sweeping the dirty floor beneath them before the end of what her face told me was a long shift. I turned and offered a simple smile, not expecting one in return. She smiled back. I said hello, making eye contact, and asked, “How are you doing?” She quickly replied, “Tired, I haven’t slept in three days.” I showed some concern and she continued to tell me how her dog was in labor two nights ago so she had been up with her, and then caring for the puppies before coming to work. I asked some questions about the dogs and she shared that she breeds them for veterans service animals. She went on to tell me that she brought her two children to the zoo and then had to come back to work again that evening. To engage the conversation further, I asked how old her kids were and she said 3 and 2 years old. Then she confided that she should have been delivering her third child in a couple of weeks, but the baby was really sick and they had to deliver the baby at 21 weeks. She explained it was either her or the baby and there was nothing the doctors could do. I empathetically said, “I am so sorry” a couple times, not knowing what else to say to this young mother. She casually shook it off, and matter of factly stated, “So, now I work.” as if pushing down her emotions while remembering again that she would be close to full term and soon on maternity leave if not for the loss of her child. My husband rejoined me at the table, I told her I hoped she could get some good rest tonight, and she returned to her clean up duties. And just like that the crossing of our paths was over. I could have let that tired, crabby looking waitress go about her work while we enjoyed a quiet anniversary dinner. But I noticed her and saw something familiar. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or sadness, maybe the pain. Something drew me to her and I responded to the nudge. All it took was a simple smile. A hello, with eye contact. A genuine, “How are you doing?” It wasn’t a long encounter, less than two or three minutes, but none the less meaningful. It was as if she needed someone to listen even if it was just for a moment. You never know how much someone may need that simple gesture. Let us keep our eyes and hearts open and available to those around us. Let us not forget that we can all make a difference. Every day, in big and small ways. Sometimes even in the lives complete strangers. Author: Elizabeth

Attack in the Night

Anxiety /

Elizabeth / July 25, 2018

Chest pain, shortness of breath, upset stomach, on the verge of tears. I forgot how terrible this feeling is. I remember feeling paralyzed by these feelings in the past. Paralyzed by the silent, fierce attacker that gives no warning. Tonight it is keeping me awake. I fall asleep for a few minutes only to be jolted awake by the sound of a car alarm. I move around our bed unsure at first of where I was and if it was a dream or reality. Thankfully the beeping stops, but then my husband quickly enters our large master bedroom to peek out the front window that overlooks our driveway. My heart is beating fast now, almost as fast as my thoughts. We exchange a short conversation about what just happened. He seems concerned that the alarm went off, saying, “It doesn’t just do that for no reason.” I ask if there are dogs barking. He doesn’t know, but I’m sure I heard the neighbor’s dogs barking at the sound of the alarm. As if I need another worry to keep me up at night. A massive flood of emotions and thoughts come rushing through my body and my head at full force and I am sure it will be a sleepless night. Fast forward a few months and my attacker has followed me again. While enjoying a beautiful evening of music this summer, my husband and I decide to venture into the standing only section to get a closer view of one of our favorite bands, For King & Country. They are the headliner of the music festival, the last band of the weekend, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. We stand together as the sun begins to set and the air cools. At the same time I can feel the crowd growing thicker and thicker, closer and closer. All of a sudden the air feels heavy, my heart rate quickens, my palms get sweaty, and the sounds and smells of the strangers around me become increasingly louder and overwhelming. Even though I’m aware that there is no real threat of danger, thoughts of unlikely situations start racing through my mind. I close my eyes and start taking deep breaths to help calm myself down. Sensing my restlessness, my husband asks if I’m okay and takes hold of my hand to comfort me. I would feel horrible leaving after waiting for so long, but all I want to do is run out of there. Finally, the white curtain is lit, shadows of large drums appear, and the band’s signature entrance begins. My attacker is distracted for the moment, but still looms in the background ready to rear its ugly head at any moment. Recently, as I went through some boxes of paperwork in preparation for our upcoming move, I came across some old medical records. There it was, typed in simple words, no different than my height and weight listed the same page: Anxiety Disorder. My first ever mental health diagnosis. Anxiety is the name of this attacker, and sometimes, like some kind of metaphysical werewolf, it morphs into a full blown panic attack. Its abrupt interruption and lingering presence can be life altering. It is a silent, but strong force that affects the lives of many people I know and love. This attacker is not discriminatory. It can impact the young and the old, men and women, single or married, career-driven or stay-at-home parents. It isn’t convenient or welcome, but it will show up anyway, regardless of the place or time, and stop us dead in our tracks. The overwhelming weight of anxiety can be debilitating, and many times even those closest to us do not know or understand what is happening within us. It is important for us to try to explain what we’re feeling because as with any disease, you don’t know what it’s really like until you’ve experienced it yourself. There are many people who haven’t had the pleasure (ha!) of first-hand experience with a mental illness, but they truly do care and want to try to understand. There will be people who will say hurtful things. They might dismiss and undermine our feelings saying things like, “You worry too much” or “You’re just stressed out” or “You just need to relax.” As hard as it might be, let’s give them grace. Perhaps they want to help, but don’t know what to do or what to say. Accept that no one is perfect and even if they don’t completely understand, that doesn’t mean that they don’t love and care about you. Let’s be transparent and open up the dialogue. This does not show weakness, it shows strength. It can be truly refreshing and healing. This is a place of acceptance, support and love. We would love to hear your story. In the comments below, share how anxiety or another mental illness has affected your life, and some ways that you have been able to overcome.

An Unexpected Nudge

Bipolar, Featured, Introduction, MH Awareness /

Elizabeth / July 20, 2018

Hi! My name is Elizabeth and I am thrilled to have the privilege to contribute to this wonderful blog. As Crystal mentioned in her last post, we met at a woman’s group which I lovingly refer to as “Coffee Group.” It’s just a small group of real women gathering together a few nights a month to drink coffee and chat about life. I am not one to hold back details about my personal life and most people probably think I overshare, so surprisingly I hadn’t shared much at Coffee Group about my mental illness. In fact, aside from brief comments here and there, I hadn’t really talked about it with anyone for a long time. My psychiatry check-ups had been reduced down to 20 minutes two times a year. I had been managing it well for several years and feeling back to myself, so why talk about it? Following my hospitalization and diagnoses of Bipolar I in 2011, I had a strong desire to connect with others that had similar experiences. After taking part in group therapy, I tried out a depression and bipolar support group in the Minneapolis area. While it was comforting to hear from others going through similar struggles, it didn’t feel quite right for me and I only attended a handful of times. I later attended a mental health conference in Miami with my sister and was inspired to start a local support group, and took several steps in that direction, but never saw it through. I always chalked it up to being too busy at work or at home, when in reality it was my fear of putting myself out there and lack of confidence as a leader that kept me from pursuing it. During one Coffee Group last year we were discussing how we can use our God-given gifts to serve others. We were going around the table each sharing something meaningful to us – working with children, instructing yoga, and dog therapy were among some of the ideas these beautiful women were passionate about. When it was my turn, I nervously explained that I wanted to start a mental health support group, and also shared some of my fears surrounding it. The outpouring of encouragement from the other women was amazing, but I still had that nagging, negative “You can’t do it” thought stuck in my head. After our group ended, Crystal approached me. We talked for a moment about our shared experience living with mental illness and then she said it…she would be willing to co-lead a support group with me. I was speechless (that takes a lot!) and beyond excited. The thought of leading was a scary thing for me and now that huge barrier was removed by someone I had just met. I told her I would love that and we agreed to talk again soon. I am so thankful that I decided to talk about my experience and my vision that night and even more thankful that Crystal decided to reach out to me. Our friendship began that day, and I am very proud to say our journey as co-leaders of an official mental health support group commenced in March of this year. We are just getting started in our shared goal of raising mental health awareness and breaking the stigma surrounding it. The process will look a little different for each of us, but there is true peace and healing in finding your tribe, your community, your support. Whether it be through family, friends, church, a local support group, an online blog, or a combination of these things, please know you are not alone and you don’t have to let your mental illness define you or your life. We hope you will join us on this journey and invite others too – the bigger the circle, the bigger the impact. If you or someone you know is living with a mental illness and would like more information about finding a local support group, please reach out to us. Author Elizabeth