Grace for Kathleen
Praying through Mental Illness
My name is Kathleen. At age fifteen I received a rude awakening: I was diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. Living a life of “insanity” and feeling totally out of touch with reality kept me in a mental hospital for a full year. I slowly regained my grip on reality with the help of medication and therapy.
I survived the illness and led a normal life until age twenty-eight when, once again, my world crashed down upon me even worse than in my teens. I was lost in my own world and could not find my way out of the darkness.
Yet, I found comfort in transcribing my prayers in the form of poetry. I have written a short history of my life and experiences; my poem-prayers share my life and how once again I survived one of the most life-altering illnesses known to man. I hope my story will be an inspiration to others who, like me, suffer from the effects of mental illness. My faith and trust in the Lord pulled me out of the pit: if he could do it for me, then he can also do it for you.
Hell
Who said, Give her the life of no choices;
let her hear the torment of demonic voices?
Who said, Give her the illusions
Of seeing the supernatural, fearful delusions?
Who said, Let her lose the touch of reality, lost in her mind:
Let her be insane, out of touch with mankind?
Who said, Let her suffer so she will want to end her living;
Let me take it all so she will have no room for giving;
Let her suffer everyday so much she can't even see a light;
Let her be tormented so much she will have no will to fight;
Let her will be crushed and a dark cloud cover her spirit;
Let nothing but misery be in her path, only life she will fear it.
Torment and darkness day after day, year after year;
Let her weep in her madness, her head never clear;
Confusion and sorrow be her companion as if cursed,
Crying herself to sleep each night as if her heart would burst?
She felt a hand holding hers as she felt she for the last time fell:
I am the Lord Jesus who holds your hand even in hell:
I am the Healer Who hears your cries of pain,
And in my care, my child, my grace shall make you sane.
Kathleen with daughter Candace
Within my illness I will not hide the fact that I felt I was battling an army of fallen angels, having visions, hearing voices, feeling things touch me, seeing things move, shadows on the ground and lights turning down. I felt my world was being torn between heaven and hell. I was in a battle and within my delusions I stayed close to the Lord.
I even asked a “Catholic” priest, Who is this devil and what does he want from me? He replied, The church has replaced the devil with mental illness. I was a lost soul, not knowing I was ill but thinking I was trapped in a world of spiritual warfare. With the Lord by my side I was unafraid of my hallucinations. Yet little did I know what was in store for me. The only thing that made any sense to me was the Jesus’ words in the Bible.
Man had no answers for me; there was no pill to get me from my madness. And so, I prayed continually, searching for answers that refused to be found. My coping mechanism was writing my poetry; no demon and no illness was going to destroy my life. If my story, my insanity, my humility or my dark world could bring understanding to the suffering, hope to the hopeless or a will to live to those who want to end their lives, then my suffering and misfortune would not have been completely meaningless.
Any comments or suggestions please e-mail me at kathleen_bernard@yahoo.com
The Future of Mental Illness
I feel those who would treat mental illness need to be more educated. Far more research needs to go into understanding this devastating illness. There needs to be more housing available to the mentally ill. We simply need to offer them a higher quality of care if and when they are unable care for themselves. They need more options in their mobility and activity.
In short, they need the support of family and friends, doctors and therapists to keep them busy. If they are to truly recover, they need to feel needed. Those who “reach out” to the mentally ill must do so with the objective of really understanding their illness. Give volunteer work to those unable to retain paying jobs.
But, most of all, give concrete answers to the side effects that these people suffer day after day and year after year. Do we need more hospitals? more doctors? more therapists? Not necessarily, no.
And knowing how terrible this illness is to the housed, imagine how much more awful is it for the homeless who are not being medicated or treated in any form! We need more public funding to be funneled into programs that have been shown to consistently improve the lives of the mentally ill and get them off the streets and into their own habitations. For that to happen, the illness needs more publicity: it is not a shameful illness; if anything, it is misunderstood.
I say, let’s bring hope to the suffering, let’s shine a light on the darkness.
intelligentdesign.faithweb.com
