Saturday, November 07, 2009

The Pit

It's so peculiar, I think, that I can work myself into such deeply woven thought spirals that I find it difficult to crawl back out again. I unwillingly play "bad tapes", as cognitive behavioural therapists would say. I slowly get better and better at ignoring the thoughts, at not letting them direct my actions, and not giving in. It would be preferable, to never get into that hole in the first place.
I have an image of that hole in my head, and if I had the skill to draw it, I know precisely what it would look like. It's like a well, deep and dark, cold and damp. The stones are slick and offer no purchase, no way to claw myself out of the despair.
Instead, I need something to stand on, a foundation to build my way out. From Psalm 139:

7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?

8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,

10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

If I make my bed in the depths, You are there. Even in the veriest pit of despair, God will not desert me. From Psalm 69:

14 Rescue me from the mire,
do not let me sink;
deliver me from those who hate me,
from the deep waters.

15 Do not let the floodwaters engulf me
or the depths swallow me up
or the pit close its mouth over me.

16 Answer me, O LORD, out of the goodness of your love;
in your great mercy turn to me.

17 Do not hide your face from your servant;
answer me quickly, for I am in trouble.


I've often wondered if King David suffered from a major depression or even bipolar disorder, because from what he wrote, I think he would understand. Even if David couldn't fathom how much this hurts sometimes, I must remember that Christ does, and that even when I feel crushingly lonely, I am never alone.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

and your Mom is always thinking of you and holding you close no matter if we aren't in the same place.
Love you sweetheart.

Mom

Adamity_Bomb_Bomb said...

I could send you the requisite {{{hugs}}} bullshi*, but, I won't. Although I *would* give you a hug if I were where you are, the electronic {{{hugs}}} mean little to nothing. I say this: Climb out. Climb out! Raise yourself, through your love for the Christ, and exit your too-early tomb. Life can be rough--I've heard stories. But I have also heard that life can be quite beautiful, life can be a high. I am not one much for looking up famous people's sputterings, but I know that E. Roosevelt is a master of phrasing prosaic words into a meld of higher meaning. She writes a good Uplift-Mofo. =0)

Dig on her. But, most important, dig one you.

Peace to you, H. Get outta yer hole, already.

=)