There’s been no pain in my life that has been more persistent and haunting than having a severe mental breakdown and being laughed at, excluded, or misunderstood because of it.

Nothing in this life has hurt me more, and to varying degrees, I grapple with those feelings every day.

In all transparency, I struggle to find myself worthy of respect and inclusion. I struggle to see myself as an equal with others because I feel abnormal and unrelatable. I feel out of touch with the rest of the functioning world sometimes.

Meeting new people can be a challenge because I’m always calculating how much of myself I’ll need to shield away from them.

I wonder:

• If I tell new people about my past and share my blog with them, will they reject me?
• Will they want me to stay away from their parties or weddings?
• If I share too much, how can I convince people that I’m just a regular person?

I struggle every day, wondering, Why has my life been the way it’s been? What’s wrong with my brain? Am I crazy? Am I insane?

Every day, I’m a little haunted, and I feel there are some stains on my soul that will never be washed out completely.

It’s terrible to admit, but I feel like I’ll never live down the shame and embarrassment of having a mental breakdown.

It doesn’t matter the circumstances that led to the breakdown – that I was lost spiritually, alone and young in a big city, and incredibly stressed and severely depressed.

It doesn’t matter that I contracted pneumonia and mono at the same time and my body and brain were broken down because of it. It doesn’t matter that I had high blood pressure at age 22 due to overwhelming stress and trauma.

Understanding the causes doesn’t matter to me sometimes.

Just knowing that I have gone to unspeakable places in my life – psychosis and a trip to the mental ward – brings me an enormous amount of shame. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do…

Like Job, I’ve questioned what I did wrong. I wondered why I had to be the one to suffer from painful mental illnesses that made me feel ashamed.

I questioned the imbalance of justice that God seemed to allow in the world.

I wondered why my suffering was so deep, that I felt I was in “no man’s land,” unable to find people who could even relate to my suffering much less show compassion for it.

But through it all, I know that God is with me. He’s always been with me. I keep my focus on Him because I’ve come to know and feel that He loves me. He’s healed me in ways I didn’t think were possible.

He restored my natural circadian rhythm after 5 years of having to be sedated to go to sleep.

With the exception of a few incidences, the panic attacks have stopped. I no longer pull my hair out of different places of my body, and I’m not afraid of being in any particular place.

God has given me a story to share.

And no matter how scary it feels to share my story sometimes, I feel compelled and obligated to share it because God has brought me through so much and I want to give Him the glory.

For every laugh that was targeted at me, for every judging word spoken against me, for every decision to exclude me or disown me, for every misunderstanding of my pain and my character, for every ounce of pain I’ve endured…

God has showered me with so much more love, hope, grace, and favor. And I want to be an encouragement to someone else who may be battling the same issues.

I’ll continue to stand tall knowing that there’s no human being who sees me, understands me, and loves me the way that God does.

My life has not been easy, and every day comes with its set of challenges, but I put my faith in God and I believe my future will outshine the darkness of my past.

I know that in due time, God will bring things to pass that will completely blow my mind.

And if He can do it for me, He can do it for you too.

Be encouraged.

Sincerely,

Alexia