Why to Persevere: Living in the Fire

 *Keep in mind that all of what I speak of and say is in my own opinion. I am a fallen human being who makes mistakes.

It has been quite some time since my last blog post, but I believe I needed that time to formulate a conclusive reason for why people with illness should continue to persevere even through their own "fire".

Because I myself have been faced with the same question.

Some days my nightmares leave me so violently rattled. I can't count the number of sleepless nights I've endured these past 5 years since my brain-damaged induced illness has gotten worse.

Some times I feel like withering away to sand, where even having hope feels like too much of a drain of energy.

For most people, the question of "why should I live" never really crosses their minds. They just know why, or if they don't, they don't see any reason to end things.

But, I've thought of it many times.

I believe in God, and in Jesus, His son, but at times I've felt very alone and disconnected from God's word and God himself. And in the midst of that, felt that I wished there was someone beside me who could relate and help put mental maladies into perspective. To be there for you.

During these past few months, I've for the most part, given up on finding a cure. There's also been health issues going on in my family besides just the regular family health issues with someone close to me. In that, I felt a certain despair, that no matter how many dietary health plans, natural supplements, and therapies I could write, dispense, or implement, it invariable leaves a person to make their own choices about health and life. I always believed that if I worked hard enough to become healthy that it would reveal a freedom of life that I've never been able to live before: A Normal Life.

But, there's a big difference between being healthy and being happy/contented.

I believe that all the days we suffer with illness, are tormented by our own mind's demons, that if we try our best to serve God everyday in what we do, that everyday counts. Many days, I've thought about sleeping the day away (as a survival mechanism from my disease), that nothing matters, waiting for life to pass me by as it seemingly inevitably does. But I believe that God didn't choose for us to have the illnesses we do, nor did He afflict us with them. I think God is just and that means that Satan also has his due. 

"Then his wife said to him, “Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God and die.” But he said to her, “You speak as one of the foolish women would speak. Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?”[a] In all this Job did not sin with his lips." Job 2:9-10 (ESV)

I believe it tears God up to see us suffer such diseases, but I believe Satan would want us to believe otherwise. Someone close to me suffered from the psychosis schizophrenia for several years, who didn't get the help they needed, and an infinite concoction of drugs that dulled him and drugged him. (I never really got to know him due to this heavy sedation)

He committed suicide a couple years ago.

I can only guess from my few shared walks with him, and talking a bit to him during the time I was transgender, that he lost any sense of hope, was completely exhausted from an pervasive illness, and just wanted out. To hear of his death was devasting to me. Even though I couldn't be close with him, it felt like we were fighting a very similar battle: the battle of our own minds.

It pervaded me with a battering of questions as to his own life, and what it meant for my life, for my own fighting. With the biggest one being, What's the Point?

Part of my illness creates almost a type of emotional and memory amnesia (Anhedonia). I rarely feel joy or happiness in anything I do, and my self-worth and self-esteem almost constantly reset to feeling worthless from day to day. My brain can feel all the bad, miserable emotions, but never feel good or okay. This applies to even my physical sense of well-being.

Many nights I've thought about what hell it would be to travel some place (spikes my anxiety, taxes my rationality, and creates phantom sensations), where I won't feel much of anything except the bad, and how much effort it takes to endure those things every time I spend time with my family and live life. But in all of it, it was all about me, me, me.

After the recent health problems a member of my immediate family recently faced (she's doing good), I learned that even if I can't feel good or happy for very long (or not at all), that my family still can. For these past few years I've felt like a shut-in due to how debilitating my problems and my continual search for a natural total cure of my problems, that I haven't really been there for my family. Even though to this day I suffer from my problems greatly, I want to spend time making memories for my family, because in that, I feel a small sense of happiness and worthwhileness to my life. Even if I can't feel it, I need to be there for my family.

I'll still work some more on finding a cure, but I'm learning that life is shorter for some than for others, that I shouldn't spend everyday cooped up in my room looking continuously for research studies that may help me or close family. That I need to be there for my family, even if just for my family's sake, they need me no matter how Satan, or nightmares, or other things might tell us not. We need to be there for the people around us in God's truth, and that is how we can truly serve Him.

 

He sees all the battles you face, all the days you may dread, and He's there for you. Even when you can't feel Him or see Him working, He's there.

I believe that all of us to some degree will have to face the stormy weather of challenges in our lives. It's what makes us resilient, strong, braver, and empathetic in ways people who have faced lesser challenges will never understand. It's a part of growing up, and a part of life.

We can weather this storm together!