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Dear God,
It’s me, Therese (not Margaret). I hate to be a white, whiny, ungrateful pest (I’ve been called that before). Really, I do. But I’m feeling a bit like Job (you know, from your instruction book, the Bible).
First I’ve got this bipolar thing that almost killed me last year and is apparently mine to deal with for the rest of my life. On my bad days, depression shrinks and kills brain cells in the prefrontal cortex of my brain (of course you already know this)–which could mean that I’ll be getting more and more stupid with every year. And these volatile moods don’t exactly foster intimacy between a husband and wife, or facilitate mothering two needy preschoolers (one borderline special-needs with explosive outbursts at the top of every hour).
Then I’ve got this growth in my pituitary gland (a.k.a. brain tumor), which messed up my hormones enough to make me lactate like the overzealous cow on the Horizon dairy trucks. (I considered becoming a wet nurse if the writing thing didn’t happen.) The meds I take to shrink the growth bloat me so badly that David keeps asking me when his baby brother is due. And at my last visit to the endocrinologist, she told me that my Arnold-Schwarzenegger testosterone levels (and my chest hair) suggest that I might have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), a cyst-manufacturing operation right there in my ovaries.
But God, the real killer was this afternoon, when a chiropractor told me that it’s no wonder my right hip is sore because my entire right side is shorter than my left. He recommended that I not run for a long while, until the right and left sides of my body reconcile and shake hands–like a bipartisan Congress.
Not run?
For a quarter of a century I have, in “Forrest Gump” style, run off all my frustrations and anger and sadness and loneliness and despair and confusion. The year of the Great Depression I ran over 1,600 miles (the distance from Boston to Tampa)–talking to you, your mother, and St. Therese to keep me company. Running is my “go to,” my salvation now that I gave up booze, smoking, caffeine (okay, not really), sugar (I try to anyway), and all my negative vices.
Not run?
You must have mistaken me for another woman, an even-tempered chick with far more patience. I am what you call a mentally ill addict with issues as tall as your pearly gates. I depend on things here on earth until I see (at least I hope to) your face in heaven. And in trying to avoid all mood-altering substances, I choose constructive habits like running, which make my brain very happy.
I’m curious, God. Did I do something bad in a past life? Are you angry with me about something? Can we talk about it?
I know that I am far more blessed than 99.9 percent of the world. Don’t even get me started on everything I have to be grateful for. Oprah and friends remind me every day. I know, I know, I know, and that only makes me feel worse. Like I suck at one more thing: gratitude.
I was just wondering if you could maybe take it a bit slower with all these “character building” exercises. I need a little time to recover before you pop out the next surprise.
Thanks so much,
The bipolar lady with brain tumor, chest hair, and short right side
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Therese J. Borchard writes the daily blog, Beyond Blue, on Beliefnet and is a regular contributor to the award-winning blog, World of Psychology, on Psych Central. Therese is the author of Beyond Blue: Surviving Depression & Anxiety and Making the Most of Bad Genes and The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit. Subscribe to Beyond Blue, visit her website, or follow her on Twitter @thereseborchard.
Meet others on the journey in
Therese’s community group
Ask Therese to be your friend
Therese J. Borchard writes the daily blog, Beyond Blue, on Beliefnet and is a regular contributor to the award-winning blog, World of Psychology, on Psych Central. Therese is the author of Beyond Blue: Surviving Depression & Anxiety and Making the Most of Bad Genes and The Pocket Therapist: An Emotional Survival Kit. Subscribe to Beyond Blue, visit her website, or follow her on Twitter @thereseborchard.
posted January 27, 2007 at 5:52 am
I couldn’t of said it better. Hey girl if that’s of any comfort for you your’e not the only one feeling like this!
posted January 27, 2007 at 1:59 pm
My Dear Woman, I am so sorry for you and your medical woes. What a Heavy burden to carry ! I just Hope You find some kind of comfort with our dear Lord, as I do. I sufer from many medical problems but not as bad as you seem to be. You will be in my prayers and I hope anyone ,reading your story will Pray for you also. My Deepest Sympathies.God Bless ~ Mrs. Helen Hunt
posted January 29, 2007 at 7:09 pm
I will be thinking and praying for you and your family. Remember in heaven we will not have any of the problems and woes of sin.
posted January 29, 2007 at 11:44 pm
I think it may be wrong to say this, but I have felt this way for so long I don’t know any other way to feel. I’m not a bad person, and try to busy myself helping others and praying on what seems to be a continuous basis. I am seeing a doctor and am on meds now, but so far am not seeing any positive results. I have so many moments when I do not want to try any more, I am tired. Reading what you have written has in some strange way given me hope, as I am seeing I am not so very alone as perhaps I had thought. God bless and keep you, I will keep trying and I thank you for your honest, open thoughts.
posted January 30, 2007 at 10:07 pm
When I feel overwhelmed (which seems often, as I have depression as well as fibromyalgia, so physical and mental pain seem to be a constant in my life) I remember my favorite quote from Mother Theresa: “God, I know You will not give me more than I can bear, but sometimes I wish You did not trust me so much.” I may not have that correct word for word, but you get the idea. Pray for me and I will pray for you and for all of us who are afflicted.
posted February 3, 2007 at 11:19 pm
I really enjoyed your letter. It was funny, heartfelt, and honest. Thanks, Karl
posted February 6, 2007 at 2:35 am
“I know, I know, and that only makes me feel worse. Like I suck at one more thing: gratitude” Man, oh man. That is EXACTLY how I have felt so many times during depression. Guilty that I wasn’t grateful enough, that my faith must be pretty lousy if I couldn’t pray my way out of it. Even though I know that kind of thinking is simplistic. Thank you for putting is so eloquently.
posted March 28, 2007 at 12:40 am
is this for ladies only
posted September 26, 2007 at 7:59 pm
I didnt read this one before….Therese….My heart is with you always. We both have had the same journey and I too am a addict runner. I started only 3 months ago…couldnt run a lap…now I run 6…I cant go a day without running…I would hate if my trip to the gym was ever taken from me.
posted March 8, 2008 at 6:21 am
In these days of uncertainity & we aren’t in that good of health — we can use the help of prayer. I’m always praying for direction in my life & help with understanding of my mental/physical health problems. I’m also not ashamed to ask for others to pray for me because we all can use the extra help with the Man Upstairs. I’m not even ashamed to admit that I talk to my deceased loved ones & ask them for a little assitance with my concerns. Because sometimes even God needs assistance.
posted April 5, 2008 at 7:28 pm
I know, I know, and yes it may my feel worst and guilty. My daughter just got the result of an state exam (going to be a teacher) and she did not past for 4 points. She also AGREES WITH YOU. Really!!!!
Carmen