The Story that is My Life

My life as it has been and as it continues to unfold is a story. One story made up of many stories. One complex, yet simple story. One sometimes messy, but so beautiful story. One story that I wonder if it might be interesting to be told.

This blog is my attempt to put part, or parts, of that story into words, pictures, or whatever form my mind can wrap itself around or create from within myself to express what it is like to be the one inside Cindy's Story. This is an exploration on my part and on yours in reading, and seeing, and maybe even hearing. It is not necessarily chronological. It might not always make sense, but it is my expression. It is me.

You are invited to see how my story unfolds.....

Saturday, September 12, 2015

"I Shouldn't Feel This Way Survey"

1. What would you like people to say about you at your funeral?

At my funeral, I would like people to say that because of what they saw in my life, they were able to see and admit their own struggle and pain.  They would say that they were able to turn and get help and hope from Jesus and from the help he gives through people.  They would say that though they saw my struggle to stay alive on earth, I eventually held on and was able to be happy.  They would say that they knew it was always my desire to be in heaven with my Lord, but that I gave my life to him to decide when the right time would be for him to take me home.

I would hope that people would remember my kindness.  That they would know that in my life I loved them dearly.  I would hope that many people would want to share stories of how I helped or even just listened to them when they needed someone, and also stories of fun, learning, and laughter.  I would hope that my life would have impacted people for eternity.  I would really hope that a celebration of my life after I have died would also be a celebration of the One who died and rose again so that those who also believe may truly live.

2. How does writing that make you feel?

Writing this makes me feel challenged to live in the way that I want my life to impact others.  It makes me want to be kinder and more purposeful about living in a way that shows love for others.  Thinking about the shortness of life causes me to think about how I can be more present with people in the time I have.

Writing about my funeral causes me to think back over the many years that I wanted to die every moment of every day.  It was a time that I thought about my funeral more than most people do.  It is strange because part of me still feels that desire for life to be over, even though I have found help and unconditional love to get me through.  I have seen the world for what it is, in it's evilness and goodness.  This is not easy.  But I have made a promise to God and to everyone else that I will be here and present until God brings me home.  My funeral can wait for now.

Writing about my funeral and that fact that it might be far off, can sometimes bring me fear.  When a person comes to the point, like I did, where they decide they can always kill themselves if thing get too difficult, there is comfort of a way out of unbearable pain.  But when suicide is not an option anymore, that means when difficult things come, a person will have to go through them.  I suppose this can be when that love from God and others gets us through to the joy.

How does writing about what I would like others to say about me make me feel?  In short: challenged, desire for that moment to come, fear of the future, knowledge that I have help through pain, and joy from love and goodness and hope for a future.

3. If you had a time machine, how would you use it?

With a time machine, I would want to go back and observe the important moments in the lives of my mom, my grandmothers, and my great-grandmothers from the time they were born until the same age that I am today.  I would want to see the joys and tears, the excitement and fears, and the moments when the found hope.  I want to see how the woman who have come before me have influence who I have become today as a woman.

4. Please write as many of these as you feel like:

I'm supposed to feel ________ about _________, but I don't. I feel ___________.

  • I'm supposed to feel excited about going to group gatherings for fun, but I don't.  I feel anxious and stressed.
  • I'm supposed to feel sad and guilty for not having children, but I don't.  I feel relief.
  • I'm supposed to feel happy about going through times of hell in my life because it made me a better person, but I don't.  I feel angry at myself for being so weak that that is what it took for me to learn.
  • I'm supposed to feel happy about praying for others, but often I don't.  I feel fear that God is not hearing me because of my lack of true enthusiasm and concern that acts to bring about the change I am praying for.
  • I'm supposed to feel like I wouldn't welcome death, but I don't.  I feel like I would leave this earth with joy.  I can't wait for the next.  God has something he wants me to be here for though so I stay and rest in him.

5. How does it make you feel to write your real feelings out?

Writing these feelings out makes me feel somewhat ashamed.  It also makes me feel afraid of sharing them with others because I want people to have a good view of me.  I want them to think that I have it all together now.  But, the truth is that I don't.  

6. Do you think you're abnormal for feeling what you do?

Now, that I think of it, no, I am not abnormal.  I think we all have feelings that we feel aren't how we should feel.  I think that is what can make us feel so alone.  We are scared to make our true selves known.

7. Would knowing other people feel the same way make you feel better about yourself?

Yes, at this point in my life, it does make me feel better about myself to know I am not the only one who struggles with their feelings about themselves and life.  It makes me realize I am not alone.

On the other hand, when my life seemed like hell, knowing that other people felt the same way that I did, confirmed my thoughts of how bad the world really was.  When in a suicidal state, knowing that there were more people feeling terrible too, just compounded the awfulness of the world and gave me more reasons to want to die.  It just made me feel that we should all die.

Hope is a funny thing though.  Seeing others feel the same way that I do, and that they get through it and are okay, that make me feel better about myself.  I am not alone in hope for joy.

(This survey taken for the Mental Illness Happy Hour.)