You Big Baby

Mental Health Issues Are Not Your Identity

After many trips to the doctor, I got a defining diagnosis that explained everything. The shallow, irregular heart rhythms, painful muscles and joints, constant headaches, dehydration, and exhaustion punctuated with insomnia… were related to PTSD.

Immediately I was angry, ashamed, indignant… was this the same thing as diagnosing a woman in the 1950’s with hysteria? I pride myself on mental toughness and deep faith, and this diagnosis threatened everything I professed to be. My identity was wrapped up in that I carried on despite being physically challenged and mentally drained all the time. My tight grip on my perception of myself as superior to others who struggled with mental health issues was knocked right out of my hands, leaving me slack jawed and confused.

I was not a veteran of a war. I was not violently attacked. I found no excuse for having succumbed to trauma of any sort, let alone what I saw as the mostly inconsequential events that happen to most people. And yet…my son had died. That alone would cause anyone with common sense to allow space for grief and all its emotions.

Not me.

My identity was all about strength, fixing all the problems, being the smartest, best or fastest in any group. I would never allow myself to be perceived as weak or incapable. Here I was, with a doctor putting scarlet letters on me I felt all would see. How was I going to hold the family together and keep my job if I had a disorder?

The answer was humbling. I was not going to keep all the balls in the air. It was literally killing me to even try. I had essentially looked at God and said, “MOVE!” and tried to shove Him off the throne.

He is God. I am not.

I have since sat (more than once) in a puddle of my own tears, confessing to the Lord all the ways I had sinfully upheld myself as the lynchpin in all things, the fixer of all problems… martyr extrordinaire.

None of these things is my true identity. My identity is child. A child that needs things that are okay to need; a child that lacks wisdom but is graciously instructed. I’m a child of God that is loved beyond measure and expected to do nothing more than allow God to be strong in my weakness. In fact, Paul says this about it in 2 Corinthians 12:9 “But He answered me, ‘My grace is always more than enough for you, and my power finds its full expression through your weakness.’ So I will celebrate my weaknesses, for when I’m weak I sense more deeply the mighty power of Christ living in me.”

I’ll let you know when I have fully accepted that and evolved into a mature woman who unconditionally embraces weakness, but that’s not today… and that is okay. I’m still a child of God, and He’s still on the throne.

Reflection

Have you ever encountered a problem that challenged your view of yourself?
Are there things you think you need to do that are not God’s job? What are they?
Do you perceive God as unhelpful or unconcerned about certain things? What are they?

Goals

Identify one area of your life that is draining you of strength, and think about how you can turn it over to God:

But he answered me, “My grace is always more than enough for you, and my power finds its full expression through your weakness.” So I will celebrate my weaknesses, for when I’m weak I sense more deeply the mighty power of Christ living in me. (2 Cor. 12:9)