Invisible Illnesses

I'm taking some time to break away from my usual style of postings to explain my long absence.

Back in March, I finally left a job that had me getting more and more stressed every day, because I was behind on work from last year when a bad reaction to mold had me away from my building for a month.  No one had stepped in to help me catch up; it was all my responsibility.  I had bad stomach problems, headaches every day, and would completely lose my appetite at times.  I had begun seeing a doctor because I wanted to have blood work done to check for diabetes; my blood sugar came back high, blood pressure was 150/90.  I was extremely shocked, because I have always had great blood pressure and no blood sugar problems.  I now know that all the sodas and candies I consumed, as well as junk food, contributed to the high blood sugar reading.  On just my second visit, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure.  I had asked the doctor if stress can cause the issues I was having, and was responded with "maybe", and put on an antidepressant.  I was so angry, because I had stated I was seeing a therapist and she did not see a need for me to be on antidepressants.  It seems that that is a knee-jerk reaction by doctors who don't know any better. 
My stomach problems grew worse, and blood work had revealed elevated white blood cell levels.  The doc thought I had an intestinal issue, so she had me go through an MRI, which showed a thickening in my left colon.  That, with the white blood cell level, made her think that I had an infection in my colon.  I was put on two different antibiotics, had an allergic reaction to one, and discontinued using both.  My doctor had me admitted to the hospital so I could go through a series of GI tests, all of which showed a normal stomach and GI tract.  I was checked for any infections, I was normal.  After a week, I was released from the hospital with the diagnosis of endometriosis.

I had endometriosis before, and it was NOTHING like what I was experiencing.  The same old pain was there, and had been growing for a couple of years, but the fatigue, the nausea, headaches, etc. just didn't make sense.  I spent over a month worrying about my headaches possibly being a neurological disorder, before going to see a chiropractor on a whim.  Within two weeks, my headaches were eliminated...it seems I had some pretty bad subluxations in my neck and back.  The neck pain got worse, I had an MRI done, it showed a small bulging disc in my neck.  Five months later, my neck pain is gone, but I still have to have back and neck adjustments done.

May 1, 2012, I had surgery for endometriosis.  What happened?  NO active endometriosis was found, there were some adhesions which were removed, and there was absolutely no sign of my previous surgery, which was unheard of.  The active endometrial spots had been cauterized, a growth removed from my uterus, an intact ovarian cyst removed, and the remnants of a ruptured cyst removed as well.  All that should have left signs, but nothing.  All was nice and squeaky clean.  I give God the credit for that; endometriosis DOES NOT go away on its own.  It is a chronic illness that affects more and more American women, and more research needs to be done on what causes this illness.  It's excruciating, debilitating, depressing, and difficult for the women suffering it.  I am blessed to be free of this illness now.

I still had massive fatigue, and noticed that I would feel like I was trembling all over when I was really tired.  This was chalked up to my spinal misalignments, and an overloaded nervous system.  I finally found another doctor, told her everything I went through, and said I just want to know why I'm so tired all the time.  It's depressing, because I used to be very active and now...I want to either sleep or just sit down.  She ordered blood work to be done, and found what the other doc found: my white blood cell count was elevated.  I went back in for more blood work because my doc wanted to check for a specific antibody; I received the call that I had mono.

MONO?!?  You have to be kidding me!  This is the THIRD diagnosis Doc, we gotta talk.  I went in and chatted with her about this third mono diagnosis, and received a bit of a blow: I have what is known as Chronic Epstein-Barr Virus.  The virus enters the system and, after the initial bout of mono, goes dormant.  Sadly, there are folks like me who have immune systems which are not so great, and the virus reactivates.  Stress caused mine to reactivate, which is why, months ago, I felt like passing out in the mall because I was so tired.  There is hope that I will be better next February, but to be honest, I have accepted that this virus is now part of my life.

I have to admit, there are times that I feel depressed.  It's so easy to be around someone with an "invisible illness"; an illness that doesn't show on the outside, like a broken bone or cancer, and forget that the person does have an illness.  I feel tired for the majority of the day, which makes me feel a bit anxious sometimes because I keep thinking there's nothing wrong with me.  I wept when I got the news of having CEBV, because after seven months, I FINALLY had an answer as to why I felt the way I felt.  When the fatigue hits really hard, I have a hard time keeping up with interests.  I do work study to pay for my tuition at school, four to five hours a day.  I help someone clean the school on Sundays, and after a few hours I just feel exhausted to the point of feeling a little anxiety.  It's so hard to feel this way and see a light at the end of the tunnel.  I'm taking steps to boost my immune system by taking vitamins and eating food that is nutritious, instead of the junk I used to eat.  I have lost about 70 pounds in the past few months and keep losing it, how, I really don't know.

Having a silent illness means that support doesn't come often.  It's so easy to forget that just because someone doesn't "look" sick, doesn't mean he or she isn't sick.  It's rough, because I continually push myself to meet the demands of my work study, doing my clinicals (I am working to become a licensed nail technician) and other school requirements, and go out with my husband.  Some days I feel that all this is for nothing, that I am wasting precious energy only to be forgotten.  It's so easy to slide into self-pity, which begets depression, which begets anxiety.  I've lived for so long as a sad person, constantly looking to see the bad and completely missing the good.  Now, knowing that I've got this stupid virus attacking my immune system, I want even more to be happy.  I'm in therapy to help me make room for discomfort, be it physical or emotional.  It's helped me begin to make room for this illness I have, even though there are speed bumps on this road.  Some days, like today, I just wonder if anyone cares about how I feel.  I keep how I feel to myself, mainly because I don't want to sound like a whiny attention grabber.  It's important to let someone know how you feel, but if you do it every day, it gets tiresome after a while.  It's also easy to let ourselves forget about our loved ones who are sick, but don't "look" sick, and not offer them emotional and physical support, as well as physical support.

So I am doing my best to stay as healthy as I can and not let this invisible illness get to me.  Chronic EBV can do some nasty work on the entire body, stomach included.  I am working with a good GI doctor to alleviate the symptoms I've been having in regard to my GI tract issues.  Daily readings in the Bible have helped, because I love to see how the Lord encouraged His people, which in turn gives me encouragement.

Thank you for letting me explain what has been going on.  I'm not tough, I'm not perfect, but I am trying to live my life as it should be lived; with love, laughter, and encouragement.

Shalom to all, and chag sameach!  Today is the beginning of Hanukkah, so read about the Maccabees and be encouraged knowing that if G-d can help a small army defeat a large evil, then He can help you defeat your daily hardships!

A war on Gaza?

As many of you know by now, Israel has launched an offensive against Hamas, the terrorist organization that has control of the Gaza strip.  Unfortunately, once Israel struck and killed a top Hamas leader, the world stood up, took notice, and immediately began the demonization of Israel with much "Israeli offensive against Gaza"-type articles.  They certainly neglected to write about how, in the span of 72 hours (that's three days), 600 rockets were launched from Gaza into Israel.

Why has Israel done this now, and in the past?

In 2005, after much international pressure, Israel gave up the Gaza strip to the Palestinians.  This was in exchange for peace, a peace that never came.  The Palestinians promptly tore down any industry left there that would enable them to become a self-sustaining country, and began firing rockets into southern Israel.  Israel has continued, even during offensives, to supply food, water, medical supplies, and electricity to this people who hate them.  It's the equivalent to allowing your worst enemy to live in your house rent-free.  Only so much in the way of physical attacks can be taken before self-defense is a must.

Imagine, if you will, living your daily life in the constant fear that a siren will go off and a rocket will explode near you.  You don't know if you will live or die.  You lie on the ground, head covered, shaking with uncertainty.  In the past week and a half, Israelis, especially those in Southern Israel, have had to live this way.  Children live with PTSD because terrorists launching rockets are now part of their daily lives.  IDF reservists are being called in.  The only way Israel can truly avoid massive civilian casualties is to launch a ground operation.

Civilian casualties.  If you know your terrorist organizations, you will know that every one of them loves to use human shields.  Not only that, but they will parade dead bodies and blame Israel for the deaths.  I remember back in 2006 when an Israeli missile landed near a building in Lebanon.  Supposedly the missile hit the building and killed everyone inside, but it was later revealed (after the damage was already done) that not only did the missile land NEAR the building, but the building collapsed hours later.  What about the bodies?  The people had been dead for over 24 hours.

It seems to be the goal of the media to hate Israel and warp the truth.  I wonder...how does it happen that journalists and photographers just happen to be there when an Israeli missile strikes and kills someone?  They're never there when a terrorist or terrorist leader is killed, only when civilians are.  It makes me wonder...and it's not just with the situation in Israel either.  I'm beginning to think that many things are posed, plotted, and planned in order to strike the hearts of the readers.  CNN, BBC, ABC, CBS...the media list goes on...are amongst those who twist and distort and absolutely lie about Israel.

I urge you to pay very close attention to what is going on.  We need to know exactly what is going on in Israel before we can make judgments.  A certain journalist, name withheld, used a photo of a murdered Syrian child and claimed it was a Palestinian child killed by an Israeli missile!  Just how low will these media giants go to demonize a small Jewish country?

Remember that Hamas is backed by Iran, a country whose leader has proudly proclaimed he will "wipe Israel off the map".  Israel is a small Jewish country surrounded by hostile neighbors.  Terrorists in both Lebanon and Gaza have made life hell for Israelis.  Were this to happen in America, would we take it?  I have a feeling we would, because this nation is spiraling quickly into defenseless mode.  We tolerate bullying of Christians and have "dialog" about bullying in schools.  Self-defense is no longer fully accepted.  There is a time to talk, and a time to act.  Israel has acted, and has acted in proportion to attacks on her people. 

You can make a difference.  Write to your local media, write to your state leaders, write to the President.  Show your solidarity with Israel and the Jewish people.  An attack on Israel is an attack on Jews all over the world, and each attack MUST be made known, in order for us to see what is truly going on in this world, and to defend our beloved Jewish brothers and sisters.

Hamas shot first.

Justification By Faith

"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with G-d through our Lord Yeshua the Messiah" - Romans 5:1.

So just what is justification?  The fact that though we ARE sinners, G-d not only forgives and forgets our sins when we repent and ask for forgiveness, but He chooses NOT to see us as sinners.  Wait, WHAT?  You mean G-d, the all-seeing Creator, DOESN'T see us as sinners?

That's right!

So if He chooses not to see us as sinners, then how DOES he see us?

He sees the beauty within each of us.  He sees our creativity, our love for Him, He sees every good thing there is in us.  Not only that, but G-d, being our Abba (father), wants us to see ourselves the way He sees us.  He wants us to walk in the assurance that we are justified by faith in Messiah.

I have been looking at this time in the desert as if G-d has seen all the sin in my life, especially the sin since leaving my old congregation, and is putting me through the wringer as punishment, because that sin displeases Him.  The fact is, the opposite is happening: He is doing this because He loves me and wants me to walk with confidence in Him.  I am in this desert place because I need to be freed from old habits, old ways of thinking.  G-d isn't punishing me, He is cleaning me out.  He has heard my heart's continual cry of "Please just let me accept myself as I am.  Please help me stop being afraid and distrustful of You and everyone around me.  All I want is to serve You with confidence, with joy, love, and peace in my heart!"  He has heard that cry, a cry that has been in my heart since I can remember.

Just as the Hebrews in Egypt cried out for about 200 years (give or take) and were taken out of Egypt, so my cry has been heard and I have been removed from my own personal Egypt.  There wasn't just deliverance from Egypt, however, but a time in the wilderness when the people were given opportunity after opportunity to trust in the G-d that delivered them.  They continually whined, rebelled, and moaned about how they wished they had meat (and then had a very un-pheasant experience).  G-d continually provided for them, they continually forgot about it once the next issue came up.  Eventually the real test of faith came up; the people arrived close to the Promised Land.  These Hebrews were told to go in and take the land.  What happened?  Twelve spies were sent into the land, with ten coming back and spreading fear throughout the camp.  A mere TWO SPIES were the only ones whose faith in their Deliverer should have put the rest of their kin to shame.  These men, Joshua and Caleb, did their darnedest to encourage the Hebrews.  Sadly, the majority won.  What happened?  The ten spies looked at the giants in the land and failed to comprehend that G-d, their Deliverer, was bigger and more fierce than the giants.  The Hebrews failed to remember the mana, the water provided from the rock, the cloud by day that shielded them from the burning desert sun, and the fire by night that provided light and warmth for the journey.

Because they failed to look back and remember G-d's provision for them, and chose instead to put their trust in the report of ten cowards, the Hebrews did not have the faith and encouragement to know that, in leading them to the Promised Land, G-d would provide for them yet again and hand their enemies over to them.

So, too, if we fail to look back and remember how G-d has provided for us, we will also lack faith and encouragement.  G-d, our Abba, our Daddy, loves us so much that He gave up His Son for us, that not only would our sins be washed away, forgiven and forgotten, but that He would choose to not see us as sinners.

Satan wants to distract us from G-d's promises.  He wants to blind us from the love of our Father.  He isn't called "the accuser" for nothing!  Night and day he does his best to remind us of our sins, his goal being not to cause us to sin, but to make us see ourselves as undesirable to G-d AFTER we sin.  It's the spiritual equivalent of taking a puppy's nose and rubbing it in the mess he made.  It causes us to focus on the sin we committed, instead of allowing us to accept forgiveness and see ourselves as G-d sees us: His lovable children whom He delights in.

Too many congregational leaders preach sin-centered shame, not the grace and mercy of a loving Creator.  Yeshua is the one who is seen as loving, but not G-d.  G-d is seen as a powerful, bad-tempered being who is constantly being placated by Yeshua, and on whose good side we MUST stay lest He decides to suddenly yank our salvation from us.  We are taught to approach G-d cautiously, with a carefully-worded prayer to get Him good and buttered up, when in Hebrews 4:16 we are told to CONFIDENTLY approach G-d's throne of grace.  How easily we forget that G-d and Yeshua are THE SAME!  They are one and the same, it's true.  The same Creator that we fear is the very one who came to this earth to provide a way for our sins to be forgiven, forgotten, remembered no more.  It isn't our view of ourselves that needs to be changed, but our view of G-d that needs to be changed!  When we begin to see Him and Know Him as the very loving Father He is, to understand that NOTHING can separate us from His love (Romans 8:38-39), THEN we can begin to allow Him to change us, we can allow ourselves to be guided by Him and to walk in complete confidence, assurance and knowledge of who we are in Messiah, how loved we are by Messiah and by our precious Abba, no longer fearing His wrath, no longer having doubt, but walking with Him with joy and peace in our hearts.

While the West sleeps

Many of you probably don't know about the recent barrage of missiles that have been sent into Israel. In just a few days, over 180 rockets have been fired from the Gaza strip into neighboring Israeli towns. Schools have been closed because it's too dangerous for the children to go, and families have had to scramble to get into shelters whenever the sirens go off.

Can you even imagine living like that? Most people would say no, that they could never live like that, that they would find somewhere else to live. This isn't the same for Israelis; they are a hardy people and a resilient one at that. I'm thankful to receive updates from a dear friend who lives in Israel and is the author of The 2 Spies. She will tell us what news outlets won't, most specifically the news outlets here in America.

I am appalled that we Americans call ourselves an ally to Israel. If we are, then WHERE is the outcry against this attack on the Israeli people? Why isn't our media covering what is going on in a fair and just manner? Remember the Israeli offensive in Gaza almost four years ago? our media turned it into a bellyaching, "Israelis killed *insert number here* people". While we fight wars in the Middle East where civilians are, unfortunately, caught in the crossfire, we point a hypocritical finger at Israel for daring to fight back against those who wish to destroy her. The IDF are demonized as child-killers, the leaders of Israel are chastised, and more people in America either feel justified in their ranting against Israel, or more people fall victim to the deception.

Before time existed, before any of us took our first breath, almighty G-d set out this land, Israel, to belong to a people He would choose. He didn't choose Israel because of number. He has not once, throughout millenia, broken one vow He has made to His people. In Genesis, we read about Avraham and the promise made to him by the Creator of Life: "I will bless those who bless you, and curse those who curse you". We all can do well to remember that. Right now, an Iranian madman continues to make proclamations of his desire to wipe Israel off the map. Sanctions have been made, but what good will they do? Where is the outcry against this? Will it be too late, as it was with Hitler and the over 6 million Jews who were murdered at his command? Thank G-d that those who were left in the concentration camps were delivered, otherwise the Holocaust would have continued unabated. And, after two thousand years, the Jewish people finally came back home. This aaliyah continues today, even among the cries of madmen to wipe Israel off the map.

One week ago was Purim. This is a wonderful holiday to celebrate. Another madman, Haman, plotted to destroy the Jews in Persia (now modern-day Iran). Esther, a Jewish woman, pleaded with her king for the lives of her people...when she very well could have lost her life in going before the king unsummoned. I urge you who read this to go back and read the book of Esther. More Esthers are needed right now to go before the King to plead for the lives of the Jewish people, to remind Him of His promises regarding this people. Think back to all the attempts made to destroy the Jewish people. The leaders of such attempts fell victim to their own plots; their deaths should serve as warnings to people such as Ahmadinejad. Sadly, such warnings will go unheeded, because men like him are so fully convinced of their rightness in attempting to destroy what is, first and foremost, G-d's land.

Watchmen, keep Israel in prayer. May G-d watch over His people and may he give wisdom to the IDF, especially the Iron Dome missile intercepts.

Struggles

It's been seven months since my last post. In that period of time, I've been fighting with depression, stress, and anxiety. In December, I realized that I could either continue going the way I was going, or I could seek help and go to a therapist. I chose therapy; the reasons for depression and anxiety are rooted deeply in the way I grew up. My logic was that if I was able to get to the roots and deal with them, then I'd finally be released from this terrible depression that has hounded me since childhood.

I grew up being rejected by family, peers, and the church I was in. I was told I was antisocial, too quiet, was repeatedly told to speak louder. I'm an introvert who likes quiet, and I speak softly both because I'm afraid to be heard, and it's something I inherited from my father, who speaks quietly too. I was told I was weird, just because I didn't have the same interests as the little girls around me. I preferred books to human companionship, read and understood Shakespeare when I was only six, and at that same age began a love affair with classical music and opera. I wasn't like the rest of my family; loud, outspoken, controlling. This rejection caused me to withdraw more into myself, with occasional outbursts of my attempts to be accepted. These attempts were rewarded with other kids or adults laughing at me, the former pointing fingers as well.

As I grew up, I still tried to be popular, to be the person my family and my church thought I should be. I never knew what it was like to have individuality; my mother tried her best to put me in a mold I was never meant to fit into. On her death in 1994, on my 14th birthday, my depression became worse. Anxiety attacks accompanied horrific nightmares that always involved Mom. Waking up was hell; I would realize that it was just a dream and that Mom was gone for good. Part of me put on a show for my grandparents, the other part showed its butt at school, around the "friends" I had surrounded myself with. I developed a foul vocabulary and every other word was the F-bomb. I couldn't stand going to church because I saw hypocrites who would never understand what I was going through. I couldn't stand that my grandparents got so many sympathy cards, and only a few mentioned me. All this anger was shoved down inside, coming out in bursts when the pressure was too great.

Because my way of grieving was to shut myself out from the people around me, my grandmother became worried and insisted that I see a therapist. My grandfather agreed, but I fought them like crazy. It was useless; I would have to see this therapist every week or so. I didn't want to do this because I didn't think that some stranger should be privy to the details of my life. I didn't think there was anything wrong with me at all, I thought that everything was wrong with the world. These therapist visits were a waste of money; all I did was avoid talking and would answer the therapist's questions with answers I thought he would want to hear. After the sessions, my grandmother would drill me on what I said. I got so sick of it, especially because she was told that these sessions were absolutely confidential. I realize now that she asked because she was worried that I was saying bad things about her.

This kept up until shortly before I turned 18. Halfway through my senior year in high school, I joined a witches coven. To me, these people offered me the acceptance I felt I'd never find in church. I was very much mistaken; when I became high priestess, I ended up giving more than they gave. I was guided through all kinds of training for this and excelled at it, but not without payment. My nightmares grew worse, my depression deepened, and I felt like all was lost. What snapped me out of it was a graduation gift from my church - a beautiful gold cross on a gold chain. I felt terrible for having been so hard on these people. I ended up leaving the coven and going back to church almost weekly. Life still had its issues; two days after my 18th birthday, my grandmother suffered a stroke that left her half-paralyzed. Two years later, my grandfather was diagnosed with emphezema and congestive heart failure, as well as diabetes.

In the years following, I made all the dumb decisions that I could make. I got married at 20, and divorced three months later. I dated different men, ones that would ignore me in favor of video games, or ones that would try to change me. I did find a couple of good guys, but ruined the relationships because of my then-controlling nature. In 2003, my now-husband and I met through a site that determined one's hotness based on votes. Emails and instant messages went to phone conversations, and he ended up coming to see me when my grandfather had almost died. He and my grandfather hit it off and, about two months later, I was traveling over three hundred miles away to get married. My grandfather moved out of the house and into an assisted living facility, right down the hall from where my grandmother was in the nursing home. They insisted on me not "ruining my life just for them". In truth, I wanted to stay at the only real home I'd known, to work and take care of my grandparents. To be separated from them by such a distance was not what I wanted at that time, but I loved (and still do love!) my husband. I chose to move and get married.

Things weren't all roses at first, and within a year and a half of our marriage, we came dangerously close to divorce. That's when my husband had cried out to G-d to help us, and He certainly did. We both began attending a Messianic congregation, the one we have since left, and it was great at first. My depression lessened; I only had bouts of it every once in a while, and not for long. Unfortunately, the congregation's leaders changed, and while my husband and I "advanced" up the ladder of congregational ministry, we found ourselves changed as well.

Depression came back with a vengeance. Because I'd shed my Gothic skin and started wearing more colorful clothes, once I joined the dance team I was expected to look that way ALL THE TIME. I couldn't wear black nail polish without being reprimanded, kept my hair very long so that the tattoo on my neck (Japanese for "warrior", the meaning of my name) couldn't be seen, wore long skirts and long-sleeved shirts even in summer so that the tattoo on my right arm and the tattoos on my legs were also concealed. I gained a lot of weight and lost more of my confidence. I went right back to depending on the people around me to define who I am, and looked to them for acceptance. The leader's wife did not give this out freely, if ever, to me. She was one of the people who really hurt me. Again, I found myself completely unable to be myself without being teased or laughed at. The depression became so bad that I couldn't keep up a weight-loss goal for more than a couple of weeks, wore more frumpy clothes, and let my hair just do it's naturally curly thing. As an armorbearer, if I arrived at the building later than the leader's wife, I was chastised...so I stopped taking so much care with what I wore in terms of clothes and makeup.

When we left, I harbored so much anger and resentment for the treatment my husband and I received, that it continually ate at me. Despite my thinking that, finally, I forgave them months later, I was wrong. I can forgive someone for one thing at a time, not for many things all at once. So, since January, the sediment of many years is being stirred up. Combine that with many job responsibilities and major stress, and you have a recipe for major anxiety attacks. I experienced my first real one back in November. Now, after Mom died, the anxiety attacks were about two minutes of fear, followed by another bout of depression. This anxiety attack in November was horrible; I became extremely dizzy, could hardly move because all my limbs felt heavy, and the worst feeling of terror came over me. Another one followed in January, then many more in February. All the stress at work, combined with the depression I was feeling, finally overwhelmed me. I asked for help and received a little, with just one thing taken off me. I still was struggling to meet the daily requirements of work and was failing with each passing day. Finally, I just couldn't deal with it any longer, and requested that I be allowed to go back to my original duties. This was denied and, a week later, I handed in my resignation.

I'd been thinking about doing this on and off for a few months, but decided to soldier on and do what I could. I didn't realize that I was allowing stress and depression to dictate my daily life. In December, I began having daily headaches and my female cycle started going haywire. I started dreaming about work every night. The wake-up call for me was when the anxiety attacks started becoming more frequent, and I started worrying about my physical health. Taking time off from work didn't help; I only worried about having to go back in and face my daily duties. I talked about work when I got home, complaining to my ever-patient husband about the happenings of the day. Once the anxiety attacks became almost daily, I knew something had to give. It was either my job or my health, and so I chose what was most important: my health.

I've gone into such a history so that anyone who reads this blog knows that I am truly only human. I do desire to help others as much as I can, and so I can truthfully say that I'm grateful for what has happened to me. If it can help me empathize more with another human being who needs that empathy, then praise G-d. This isn't an easy fight, and I have to be reminded too often that I need to trust in my heavenly Father. You see, I AM merely human and cannot win battles on my own. Being alone isn't going to help those who are fighting depression or anxiety disorders. Having supportive friends, family, and even co-workers is essential to people like me who struggle. The best thing is, for me, that I have a Messiah who isn't unsympathetic to human suffering (Hebrews 4:15), and that helps so much. I know that, because He experienced suffering far beyond what I have known, I can trust that He will not be indifferent to my cries when I'm having a bad day.

Every day is a struggle for me. It's been less than a week since I resigned from my job, and I still feel daily guilt for what I did. I couldn't take any more of the stress, but I believe that if I had realized much earlier the signs of stress, I could have avoided the eventual effects of it. I miss my co-workers very much, and it grieves me to think that I didn't leave on terms that I'd hoped would be good. I didn't leave on bad terms, per say, but it was sudden when I did it. I asked for help, received little, and that is that. I did what I felt was necessary for me, for my physical and mental health, but that does not lessen the sadness and guilt I feel. This is a daily process and, with G-d's help, depression and anxiety will be defeated. It certainly helps that we have a new congregation we are attending, with a wonderful leader whose wife speaks Klingon (YES!), and are going through discipleship with the intention of becoming members. Yes, I have joined the dance team and have been told that it's refreshing to have me on it...blue-streaked hair included.