I want to start a mental health blog.
But what would I say? Am I recovered or credible enough? Do I have a story worth telling?
All questions of doubt and insecurity that have plagued me over this last year.
I’m a communicator.
I write, speak, and sometimes yell (most times without much of a filter) about what I feel and what I think. Somehow by the grace of God, my friends tell me that it’s worth listening to most of the time.
This last year I’ve gone on a hiatus. Feeling as though I had nothing to say and no story to share. The reality is that I didn’t want to listen to those unfiltered thoughts and emotions myself.
I cringed at the truths, emotions, and experiences deep in my gut and did everything I could to filter it—ultimately filtering myself to silence.
The truth is that a pursuit of mental health is hard to understand—even when you’re on the journey yourself.
Those unfiltered thoughts make people uncomfortable and squirm in their seats without an idea of what to say or how to respond.
It leads family and friends to look at me, concerned because they don’t entirely understand. They are fearful even as I try to explain that I am okay and that mental health disorders are always on a spectrum.
I’m here to break this silence caused by fear and speak up—not for myself, but for the ones who are still where I was.
I’m finally saying “screw you” to the fear of failure and rejection, and “hello” to Freedom.
Because, here’s the deal.
I have some things to say—and I don’t think enough people say them.
I think that when it comes to mental health a lot of people are all “talk.” They keep it all shallow and fluffy until someone else succumbs to the effects of an illness. And we wonder why nothing is changing and no one is doing anything.
I think anxiety, depression, and eating disorders are complicated and messy. Especially when someone struggles with a combination of them.
I think the stigmas need to be eradicated. I think that can only happen if people who experience them speak up and invite others to join them in the confusing mess.
And I know that we can’t leave Jesus and the Gospel out of the conversation. Otherwise the pursuit of Truth regarding mental health will forever seem hopelessly confusing, messy, and ultimately unredeemable.
HOWEVER, the conversation shouldn’t just stop at a “pray it away/trust more” kind of answer.
And because I know Jesus and His victory, I know the lack of understanding and the battlefield that is mental health is FAR from unredeemable.
So, I pray that even if only one human ever reads to the bottom of this first post—that my words, experiences, brokenness, stories, and weaknesses would glorify and honor the One who gave me the ability to think, speak, and write.
I pray that vulnerability about brokenness would ultimately bring healing. I pray that my weaknesses would bring others strength. And I pray that freedom would replace fear, and faith would replace anxiety.
Because really, my prayer is for people to know that this journey is a process. And the process is about building a new life as a new creation in the victory of Jesus.
On solid rock.