Remember Heather?

Today was almost a cliche: Memorial Day, car wrecks. Ron and I are fine, [sniff] we ride with professional drivers. However, we saw several accidents, and one of them was bad enough that they had half of the freeway blocked, waiting on the helicopter, as the firemen feverishly worked to free some poor victim.

It wouldn't be a bad way to go, assuming I went fairly quickly. I just dread the thought of LINGERING. Of course, I would have dreaded the thought of marriage to someone with all Ron's physical issues. Just the thought of alcohol issues would have sent me into permanent celibacy. I would have dreaded the thought of going through my life with brain damage, always feeling like everyone else got the joke; but me. Watching other people get in their cars and drive somewhere, whenever they felt like it, while I had to wait on my bus (assuming it even RAN that day). Mental illness? Severe mental illness? The thought of that would have had me committing suicide. So, I know I'm a lot stronger than I think; I would just hate to have it TESTED like that.

Today had some pretty standard trips. Sam's Club, so I could get Driver Candy. Work, so we could stock all our new merchandise. Let's not forget the lunchtime outing Ron planned. One of my least-favorite restaraunts, it lives in my head under the dreaded NOT A GOOD VALUE heading. I would have rather gotten a couple of value burgers, had he asked. [shrug] One good thing about us having our issues, we're pretty good at compromise. I had a secret bag of peanuts because I don't find the meals very filling.

Anyway, it was late getting us to Sam's, and early picking us up. I got Ron his Tylenol (Sad that he gets the giant bottles you see and wonder "Who would ever take that many painkillers? What a lousy life!"), and some apple danish pastries for work. He had given me the personal debit card. I never use that unless he tells me to put something on it. I selected my Driver Candy, about $25 worth. I accidentally rang THAT under the debit, so I paid for the other stuff with "my" cash. I had the cash in my hand to repay him when I told Ron. Ron said it was OK. He likes that I please the drivers when I hand it out. He knows it's not for me, it's for others, and deep down inside he wants to please God.

So, I was ahead about $15 on Driver Candy. I went back because I had forgotten the BUBBLE GUM. I got a big bucket of wrapped gum, the good brand. Our ride was early and the driver laughed when I told him it was for Driver Candy. He immediately knew what I meant, and had made a comment about cutting out sugar so I gave him a bag of sugarfree. I need to bag up more of that.

We got to work early and I did it all. We stuffed the vending machines, unloaded most of the pallet. I brought a microfiber t-shirt and hung it up, so I can change when I'm doing heavy labor. I hate sweating up a t-shirt. I took out the dumpster. Busy.

Ron decided he just wanted to eat his leftovers from yesterday's meal, and go home. So he called to change it. But Metrolift wouldn't let us keep the same driver, they reassigned us a different one, and she was going to be later.

Riding with her, I saw the first of several car wrecks. We rode together for maybe an hour and 45 minutes, just to get home (a 20 minute trip). We had to go to the far reaches of the service area and then pick someone up, then drive him even farther (he got a Bible too). While she unloaded him, I ran into Starbucks. Yay. Drinks all around (she didn't really like the white chocolate mocha frappuccino I picked for her). She was more into the gum; so I gave her a couple handfuls out of the new bucket I almost didn't go back for!

We passed wreck after wreck, all the way home. [shudder] Thank you for safe transportation, Lord. I always send up a prayer for the FAMILY. Based on my own experience the backbiting and attacks start the day of the accident. Not to mention the personal doubts and waiting, endless waiting for news. The look on the doctor's face when it isn't good... and they don't know how to tell you. That sad look they get when you tell them you still have hope.

Thank God I had CAUSE. Anyway, on to more cheerful topics, the giant sack of candy and I rode all around Houston for a while.

Ron was having God issues today, a lot of talking today. I believe he loves God, but doesn't completely trust him. Me, I had to completely surrender the whole life, if you could call it that, at a young age (13) because I could not carry my burdens alone. I would have been "Remember, Heather, the girl who killed herself?"

[Oh, interesting. Ron just came in and told me he wants to get baptized.]

I should have had a pretty happy early life. I lived in a beautiful home, plenty of food to eat, my own room. [Ron is calling the pastor of the small church I've been eyeing.] I had a loving adoptive mother and siblings I liked, most of the time. [laugh]

So much pain! I had so much pain in my spirit. I had bad thoughts, they are so hard to articulate. I didn't always perceive reality correctly; and a lot of people thought I was just kidding around or exaggerating. I did have a tendency to exaggerate and tell stories for attention. Me.

So, it's tough. Now, at least one of the step-sibs was playing head games with me, on top of my mental illness. That continued until the day I moved out but God holds EACH of us accountable. God has an accounting of injustices, He will repay (Hebrews 10:30). Me? I let it go.

I got saved at age 8. I found a lot of comfort in God. For me, dependability is very important. I would be happy to marry the most boring guy in the world (I figured I would, actually), as long as he was dependable. You don't get any more Reliable than the Lord of the Universe. He is the same always, full of love, mercy, and compassion for all of us, His children. I knew I needed HIM from a young age. That's the nice thing about a neglectful early life. :)

Then I began to develop even more severe depressions. I would get a little hyper now and then, always had a slightly distorted reality and wierd thoughts in my head, but these were BAD. So bad, they literally had to shove me in the shower. So bad, they had to sit and make sure I ate. So bad, I couldn't even tell one day from another and could find NO JOY in life.

I am a very joyful person, that is a gift from God. The fact that I could find no joy in life is the worst part of the depression. [shudder]

I was in such torment. I had a bully at school. Scott Dallas. I wonder what he's up to now. I wasn't exactly busting my tail to read "How to Win Friends and Influence People", either. Richard Farley went to my Dad's office, at ESL, and shot the place up. This was 1989. You can google it.

Pretty traumatic, especially when you're already deeply depressed. It wasn't just that, but things kept getting worse and worse. They decided to put me on Prozac. I ALREADY felt like I lived in the Twilight Zone - I always had. It just got worse.

In 2004, the FDA issued a warning, antidepressants may increase the risk of suicide in kids and teens. You betcha. Within a few weeks, I became obsessed with suicide. I couldn't get the thought of ending my life out of my head. Interestingly, I don't have that problem with Wellbutrin.

I even went to the extent of planning it. I was a member of the library club. I would go to school early and go into a storeroom. I would overdose on my antidepressant and hide in the stockroom. It would take them a while to find me. I planned my final note, something along the lines of "I can't take it anymore".

April 5, 1989. The night before I laid in bed and begged God for help. I told him "I can't take it anymore. I don't want this life. If You don't want me to do this, please help me." I surrender.

I literally cast my life on Him. I did not want to be the boss of my life. I wanted my life, as it was, to end.

It did. I had a dream. God wrapped me in His love, and let me know what I endured was absolutely necessary. He needed me, ALIVE. He needed me to do His work. He had created me for this, with all of my problems, because they uniquely suited me for the job. I was in school, and no matter how bad things were they'd never be that horrible again. Things would get better, I would have a joyful life full of love and caring. I would manage my illness and control the demons in my head. THINGS WOULD GET BETTER; BUT I NEEDED HELP.

He told me what to do. The next day, I went to the school office and handed my bottle of antidepressants to Mr C, the guidance counselor. His eyes bugged out, especially when I told him my plans. He did not let me leave the office. He left and began making phone calls. I just sat there like a dead lump of meat, until my father and the ambulance showed up to take me to the mental hospital.

I didn't get out for a month. I was telling Ron tonight, I feel God can use me because I SURRENDER to Him on a regular basis, just like I did when I was 13. I KNOW I don't want a life without God at the wheel.

If I have a secret: that's it. I surrender to God. God is the boss of me. I do what I'm told and I ask Him to guide me. It's not about me, it's about Him, furthering His work.

To paraphrase, one day I hope to find I've done my duty well.