A Prodigal Daughter’s Journey Home

Wow!  Where to begin?  It’s been ages since I created this “site” or whatever you call it, but all I’ve written so far is a basic profile.  I still don’t know if I’ll ever share anything I write with others, but I want to at least get started.  “Just start writing what comes to mind”, isn’t that what “they” say?!  So here goes. 

The last year has been one heck of a ride!  Not only for me but for those who love me, primarily my parents, brother, and my two best friends, Arpan and Melanie.  I’ve struggled with mental illness since I was about 15 or 16, which is the majority of my life.  But not until this last April was I diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder.  At first I let it define who I was, blaming all of my behavior, etc. on  BPD.  But my therapist has helped me see that I’m actually very high-functioning for a BPD, so I’ve decided to take it for what it is and deal with it without letting myself be chained to that diagnosis.  I am so much more than just “BPD”. 

The biggest thing that’s just happened in my life is that I’ve come back to God after an intense year of despising Him and anything to do with Him, including most Christians or just most people, for that matter.  I rebelled against all the values I’ve grown up with and set my face against Him.  I think I always knew I’d return to Him, but I didn’t see it coming, at least not last week.  I started Friday morning, Dec. 9, as usual, in a bad mood and feeling utterly hopeless.  Just working in silence at my job.  But then God somehow touched my heart and I just knew it was time to return to Him.  That simple!  Nothing dramatic, like I would have liked, just a quiet repentance, a bit of emotion, and a gradual change of mindset and mood.  So I’ve been kind of on a high since then, until this evening.  For some inexplicable reason, the “sadness” has returned.  The whirlwind of excitement that I’ve been living in, the dreams and hopes and plans that have been streaming through my mind, all temporarily on hold. 

But this is reality, right?  Did I really expect that everything would just magically be all better, that I’d never be sad or anxious or angry again?  No.  Pragmatist that I am, I should have been prepared for this.  But that’s story of  my life, paradox.  On one hand, you have the analytical, self-aware, cynical realist, but on the other hand, you have the starry-eyed dreamer, with hope springing eternal! 

I don’t want my pain and struggles to be wasted.  I want God to use them to somehow help others who struggle with the same things I have and do struggle with.  And I believe there are many out there like me, Christians who are afraid for anyone to know the mental and emotional anguish they’re in, those who’ve been hurt by ignorant, judgmental Christians careless words and actions, the “good girls” who are ashamed to admit their sexual sin and wonder why they keep allowing men to use them, those who feel they’ll never be good enough for their parents, those who remain single as they watch others much younger than them find joy in marriage and children and successful careers.  The list goes on and on.

Well, all out of words for now.  Til next time.

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