Who Is That Girl I See...

When you spend most of your life inventing and reinventing yourself, the image you see can feel skewed. Some days I forget who I used to be. Some days I want to forget who I used to be. Some days I forget who I am. Some days I want to forget who I am. And some days I just desperately want to be anyone other than who I see in the mirror. 

October is weird and angsty. There are so many emotions that swirl around me during this time that some days the best I can do is close my eyes and hope the ride stops soon. I am fairly certain it was October about four years ago that I sat on the couch of the second therapist I tried to get to fix me, looked into her eyes, and said, “Do you think I’m bipolar? I feel bipolar.” She smiled, informed me that I was not bipolar and then stamped PTSD into my chart and into my life. Bipolar is how I was feeling then. And that’s how I’m feeling now. I’m feeling lost and hurt and euphoric and happy and depressed and anxious and stubborn and brand new and broken all at the same time. 

And then, a friend posted what today is. Today is World Mental Health Day. I didn’t know, but sitting at the head of my bed feeling like a swirling ocean of emotions and trying to breathe and discovering this makes me laugh out loud. Is it mental health awareness day where we want to promote mental health? Is it fight for a cure day for those of us suffering from some form of mental unhealth? Is it a day we should celebrate with no work and being with people we love and doing something to take care of our mental health? Should I celebrate myself? Or should I feel badly that I’m a statistic and am diagnosed with PTSD? How does this work?

I find it interesting that September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day and then October 10th is World Mental Health Day. Seems like that should maybe be the other way around. Maybe if World Mental Health Day was more than just a day, we wouldn’t need to even have a World Suicide Prevention Day. And it’s obviously not publicized very well. I didn’t know. I haven’t heard anything except for one Facebook friend that posted about it. But I can tell you that this month is Breast Cancer Awareness month. It’s plastered all over. Wear pink. Think pink. Raise money. Find the cure. And trust me, I am NOT trying to take away from the breast cancer cause at all. We need research in ALL areas of cancer to eradicate these horrible diseases. Breast cancer incidence rates are currently 20 deaths for every 100,000 women. I have grieved and have worried about and have lost more than my share of people from brain cancer, prostate cancer, lung cancer. It’s all terrible. 

But did you know that the suicide rate in males is 21.3 for every 100,000 and for females is 6.0 for every 100,000. Suicide is now the second leading cause of death in 10-34 year olds just behind unintentional injuries. But we are still not talking about it. They give it a day. And then a month later we talk about mental health. For a day. It’s not enough. It’s not saving enough people. It didn’t save my husband. 

I am eight days away from the eight-year anniversary of my husband’s suicide. Eight years has flown by and part of the invention and reinvention of myself that I talked about at the beginning of this post is directly linked to that incident. I suddenly found myself a young single mother with a three year old and a six month old. I had to learn to be strong and do it all and balance life without being “Brian’s wife.” So I have changed immensely. For the better, I feel, but it has still be a process that has changed me into a person I don’t recognize sometimes. Who am I? Who do I see in the mirror? I work hard to see an image that is positive. I work hard to make sure my girls see a mom who is involved and strong and a good provider. I work hard to feel and appear ok. And most of the time, that works. 

It doesn’t work as well in October. I miss my husband. I miss his goofy laugh and his mischievous grin. I miss his smelly fire fighter bunkers in his closet. I miss ironing his State Patrol shirts. I miss the scanner on the counter. I miss making him rum and coke and watching him mow the lawn. I’m sad that he ruined his career and his volunteerism and his family in one fell swoop because of his choices. I’m sad that the good he did in his life is sucked away by the bad that he ended on. I’m sad that rather than just focusing on grieving him I have to be angry and hate him. I’m sad that I feel like I can’t honor and remember my husband that way most widows honor and remember their husbands because he became a monster and I have to balance how I feel about him. So many emotions. I need a mental health day. 

So, there are days that I look in the mirror and don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I fit in this world. I don’t k ow what purpose I have on this journey. And then I remember that God is walking me along this path. He is helping me to discover the message in my mess. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says “But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” I know that God has already used our story to shine through to others. I know that the hills and the valleys are just pieces to the journey that Father God is walking us through and that looking back, we will see His power and His glory and His grace and mercy. He has a plan for us. He has a plan for me. He has a plan for all of us!

Who is that girl I see? Some days I don’t recognize myself. But, I can smile with confidence and know that that girl is a daughter of the Most High King. That girl is chosen and precious and a princess in God’s kingdom. That girl is more than her struggles, more than her pain, more than PTSD, more than the sum of all of her experiences. She is strong and amazing and beautiful and will rise above the statistics. It doesn’t matter who I see, it’s all about who my Heavenly Father sees. And I know that I’m precious in His sight.