The Process of Sickness - Part III (IT IS HERE)

*I'll start by telling you, "I don't remember." It is important for you to understand, I have lost parts of my memory based on the story you are about to hear. So, it might seem incoherent, obscure and mangled, but it is what it is.*

During my third year in school, I lived alone in my apartment. My friends started noticing something was wrong with me. Sometimes I didn't show up for class. Sometimes I didn't call them. But I was always a bit unpredictable, so no one really said anything. I felt something going on, but I didn't know what it was. I was sad...a LOT. I would cry every time I was alone. I didn't want to go to class. I was getting behind in all my work and feeling pressured, overloaded. Migraines were a norm now. My new couple of friends who lived down the hall would come over to find me vomiting on the floor. I was becoming a recluse and no one knew why, including me.

At the same time, I was good at my own bluff. I was youth/music director for a small church, always preparing and doing stuff with the kids. I pulled my friends in to help and they always said it was a blast. But this thing was tugging at me. During music practice one day, I just broke down. During choir, I would frequently have to excuse myself in crying fits. During concerts, I would sit down among the sea of black performance outfits and huddle into my own mind. During classes, I would keep my head buried in a book or my own notes would drift off into nonsense.

My constant frame of mind consisted of: "I am worthless. I am ugly. I'm in pain. I am useless. I am weak. I can't stop crying. I am dumb. I can't sing. I'm unlovable. I'm sad. I'm a sinner. What's wrong with me? I am losing my mind...." My friends experienced the worst of me - coming over to my place and it would be a wreck; a week's worth of dirty dishes piled up, clothes scattered everywhere and me in a trance on the couch in front of the TV. I didn't know what day it was. Didn't remember if I had slept or eaten or even taken a shower. Sometimes I would do things 3 or 4 times in a row because I couldn't remember if I had already done it. I would either sleep for days at a time, or not sleep at all. I couldn't remember when I had class. I couldn't hardly make myself go when I did remember. I could just imagine everyone looking at me when I walked in - and I just couldn't show my face. I was invited to a very special wedding one weekend, where we had to sit in the front row. At the reception, I found the furthest wall away from the action. I literally glued myself up against it while I shook with fear of every person in that room. My friend was with me who noticed I wasn't well and took me home.

I'll never forget the day that one of my friends became the truest of them all. We were in bowling class together. I was studying for a test for my next class. But I was so stressed out, I couldn't' see the words in the book for all of my tears. "N" came over to me. How I love him for what he was about to do to me. He asked me why I was crying. I told him I was about to fail a test and I couldn't miss any more classes because I had already missed so many. He looked me straight in the eyes and said: "Rachel, you are going to the school's psychologist and I am taking you right now." I was so mad at him at that moment, but he wasn't backing down. He literally dragged me up to the third floor of the student center where everything became clear.

The psychologist gave me a depression test - usually scores can be up to 15 points or so, though a normal score would be 5-10. I scored a 42. He told me I was clinically depressed and needed to be admitted to the diagnostic program of the psychiatric ward in the capital of our state. I refused. I told him I was fine. I had no family anywhere nearby and all I had at school were my friends and I was not about to leave them. So, he forced me to sign a contract that I would continue coming to see him and to seek out medical help to put me on antidepressants.

The next phase is so blurry to me. But what I can tell you is that 3 doctor's were put on my case. They started me with a normal dosage of a light antidepressant. They kept raising the dosage, but nothing happened. They would change me from one to another, raising dosages and eventually started mixing drugs. I became quite familiar with: prozac, wellbutrin, zoloft, serzone and paxil. At one point, I was taking 4 of these at the same time. I gained and lost weight quite regularly. My appetite would increase and decrease daily. And, I started to really lose my memory. The idea of self mutilation and suicide became a constant.

I remember my parents finding out. They came to visit me and I was shaking all over. They went to the psychologist with me and he forced me to show them my forearms which I had cut and scratched and left obvious scars. I remember just becoming even more sad because now I was hurting them too.

I remember being up late at night wondering if this would be the night I would really do it - I would really commit suicide. But most of the time, some friend would come by and distract me with an outing to the mall or to get something to eat.

I remember throwing myself and the feet of my friend - the one who was my twin, the one who I was in love with - and screaming to him to help me. It was raining. He sat on the steps of his dorm praying, while I wallowed in my own tears and the mud in the field in front of him. He left my life at that moment. I know that because he didn't know what to do - so he didn't do anything. Somewhere around that time, we were coming back from an overnight at a friend's house. I drove him back to his dorm. He never spoke to me again. We passed each other by on campus, but never said a word. It was like we had never even met. About a year later, the week before he graduated, he stopped me on the street; said he was sorry. I said OK. And I haven't heard from him since. It has been over 7 years.

I'm sorry I can't give you a complete and detailed story of this time of my life. But that it the point. My secrets had caught up with me. The moment I had always dreaded had come. Now it was out there for everyone to see - I was nothing. I was NOT smart. I was NOT funny. I was NOT spiritual. I was NOT strong. I was NOT lovable. I was not anything I had pretended to be all those years. I had lost control and now my life was quickly spiralling to its end.
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1 Peter 1:6-7 In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Yeshua (Jesus) the Messiah is revealed.