Trust Me

I have a bipolar II disorder. The II means that it is not a typical bipolar, though what is 'not typical' varies from person to person. What it means for me is that I cycle very quickly and my severe depressions last much longer than any mania. I'm currently pretty well stabilized with medication, but I occasionally still experience bouts of depression.

Sometime in the last year the Lord gave me a scripture: "I want you to trust me in your time of trouble so I can rescue you and you can give me glory." I felt 'time of trouble' meant depression. So I thought that was great--God was going to rescue me--I've always wanted to be rescued. :)

A few weeks later I woke up depressed. I remembered the scripture so didn't say anything to anyone but just prayed for help. I struggled through my morning responsibilities and headed for work. I couldn't see how I was going to make it through without crying, but I just kept praying. By the time I walked in the building, the depression had lifted. It had only lasted a couple of hours. I thanked God profusely and later shared with a coworker what God had done--giving Him glory.

Not even a week later it happened again. I knew God was going to rescue me so again I just prayed as I struggled through. This time the depression lasted six hours. I thanked and praised Him and again shared with another how He had rescued me.

A couple of months passed before I was again depressed. This time it continued for days and days. I had a regular appointment at the mental health clinic and when I arrived the director asked to see me. (Makeitha had started the clinic and is the director but she still sees clients and does intakes and re-evaluations.) We needed to do a re-eval. Well you can't be honest about your mental health and hide depression, so of course Makeitha saw what was going on. We talked for a while and decided I would come see her once a week until things were better. I also saw the doctor that day but we decided we didn't want to do a medication change yet.

As the depression continued I continued to pray for God's relief. But it didn't come and it didn't come.

I saw Makeitha again and she said things like, "You're not the only person who has to deal with depression," and "You might as well realize it's going to happen. You are bipolar." She wasn't very sympathetic and basically told me to suck it up. (Don't judge her yet. There's more here than meets the eye.)

The third time I saw her I came away pretty miffed. She had absolutely no compassion for my suffering. As I left the building and walked to my vehicle I planned on having a good cry. But I was also talking to God about it all and He showed me something I needed to see: I was feeling sorry for myself. Ouch. So I quit feeling sorry for "poor Robin who has to deal with depression."

Very shortly after I quit feeling sorry for myself I found myself angry all the time. I prayed, "What's going on here?" Well, God showed me. Anger was another way to feel sorry for myself: "Oh poor Robin. Someone did her wrong." Okay, that took care of the anger.

Two highly valuable lessons. I was still depressed, but I wasn't making it worse by feeling sorry for myself or being angry.

After about four weeks--all the while asking God what it meant to trust Him in the dark places--I shared with a friend all that had happened, including the things God had taught me. About ten minutes after our conversation the depression lifted. Just "poof" and it was gone. I was extremely surprised and poked at my emotional self just to see if it was true. It was true--the depression was gone. Wow.

The next time I saw Makeitha I started to tell her about what God had taught me. But when I explained my perceptions of her words to me, she freaked out. "What?!! Oh no!" She insisted she would never treat a client so callously. She was deeply shocked and very upset. "Tell me exactly what I said or did that felt that way to you. I don't want to ever do that again." At this point I felt that maybe God had played a 'perception card.' I'd had it happen before, where I saw something no one else did because God wanted me to--because He had a work He wanted to do in me. So I told her that story and told her how powerful and important were the lessons He'd taught me. I was convinced she'd come across as unsympathetic because I needed to see that I just wanted people to feel sorry for me as I felt sorry for myself.

So the whole thing with the scripture and the perception trick feels like a big bundle of love from God. Being corrected by the Lord sometimes hurts for a few seconds, but ultimately I feel so loved. He cares about me enough to shape me, to grow me up, to make me someone He can use.