I want to take a moment and respond to my last post. My hope was to draw attention to the reason for my sporadic posting, especially due to unresolved trauma. What I shared was honest and from the heart. Unfortunately, I drew too much attention to the pain of past experiences rather than the unresolved issues of abandonment.

I want to say that, while the stories of my past were very painful, God was present. Some of the greatest experiences of my life happened during that time and I have friendships that lasted decades. Humans hurt and failed me, but others blessed me, and God grew my faith in ways I never dreamed.

I am doing my best to share this journey, but confusion frequently reigns over clarity. What used to be easy, no longer comes naturally. Sometimes, it’s humorous, but often it is a different form of pain. I will be more careful to share the whole story as best I can.

Recently, I enjoyed several days of normalcy. For three days, out of the past two years, things were good. It was nothing exceptional for most, but to me it was amazing. It gives me hope. The other days are better than they were, for the most part, but the last week was quite difficult.

This is the thing with depression and anxiety. It can change without notice. Every day is different. Some days you feel the improvement, some days you are in a pit, and most days you fake being normal for the sake of others. This leads to exhaustion. Sundays are a big challenge. A few hours of preaching and visiting and I am spent.

My memory is affected by the disease and the treatment. It requires tremendous effort to keep focus. The tools I’ve used for decades to track what needs done no longer work. Learning new methods is interesting, but, unfortunately, things get lost in the process.

It is things like this that create extra challenges. Like so many things in our world, my struggle is old news. Where once, people worked to adapt to my changing reality and offered to help any way they could, they now expect me to be my old self and function as if nothing’s changed. I am sure they still care, but their awareness is different. They have their own concerns to attend to, and my struggles can add to those concerns.

Of course, no one knows the parts they don’t see. They don’t recognize that the challenges I experience, like the ones that affect them, happen all the time for me. My therapist is excellent, but we have a lot of work to do. I normalized, or repressed, many things that now, have a negative effect, not just with ministry, but in every facet of my life.

Sharing the following thoughts is a difficult level of vulnerability for me to express, even to myself, but I feel it is necessary to support others who can say, “Hey, that’s me!” It also helps reveal what depression/anxiety is like for those who don’t understand.

There are mornings I wake up in panic. I don’t know why. Sometimes, I get fifteen minutes before it sets in, but without any stimulus, I am overwhelmed. It may resolve over coffee, or mid-day, or not at all. Still, life goes on.

There are moments where I suddenly feel completely isolated, that I have no one around me and everything is on my shoulders. It is an empty feeling, but life goes on.

The chaos of the world can suddenly produce great fear. It can cause questions of life and purpose, and remove the joy from pleasurable activities, or remove all motivation for things I love. Thankfully, my therapist keeps reminding me this is normal, but I hate it. Even so, life goes on.

Working through these issues is hard, and not just on me. It affects many around me, especially those I love. My wife experienced major battles the last three years, and has her own stress. She also has been through all this with me—every day. Her love and support is amazing. It’s hard to know you are complicating the life of someone you love.

It is also hard to process the daily stress of all of this on our relationship. The past few weeks were really bad. They really strained our marriage. It was a blessing to have a support network in place to help us, but it was hard, and we are still working through it. As difficult as it was, and is, life goes on.

I will keep showing up to worship and preach what God gives me, with a smile on my face. Most will never know. I will still love and care for those God asked me to serve. Visits during coffee hour will still be times to listen to others and share in their joys and sorrows. Because, life really does go on.

If you’ve read this far, let me share two important things. If you are struggling with your mental health, you are not alone. It’s okay not to be okay. Your feelings are valid, even if they are inaccurate. You can be you.

If you are around people who are wresting with depression, anxiety, and a host of other struggles, know that what you see is the smallest portion of what they are experiencing. Be mindful that the negatives you experience are a drop in the bucket of their lives, and the guilt they carry is torturous. Be patient. Be loving.

Yes, life goes on, but together, we can change the experience of that shared journey of community. Compassion is not always easy, but everyone is wrestling with something, and it likely feels worse for them than you can imagine. The world is hostile like never before and loving has taken a backseat to winning. A kind word, can change someone’s life and by doing that, change the world.

Maybe, that’s the whole point, to accept one another for we are, not perfect people who meet everyone’s expectations, but imperfect people who are authentic and willing to grow together. We can be the body of Christ who draws people to wholeness through love and compassion. We can leave the judgement and fault-finding behind. We can embody what we say we believe.