Two Thursday afternoons ago, I was given the go-ahead to pack my bags and go home from the psych unit. One quick clip of the scissors, one donning of a winter jacket, and one elevator ride equalled no difference between me and Joe Schmoe walking past the gift shop at Emerson Hospital.
Each time I walk out the front door of a hospital after a psych stay, there are different emotions attached. Sometimes, I want to turn around and bang down the door, begging them to let me back in. Other times I practically run out screaming, giving them the finger. Sometimes I saunter out, cocky and ready. Often I bite my lip, trying to remember how to walk, talk, and function without a psych counselor watching my every move. Each time I swallow hard and beg that God will let it be the last one, that I won't need the hospital anymore. That I will have licked this bloody illness once and for all.
This time is a whole lot different. When I started to come down from my manic highs and finally stopped climbing the walls, I thought about God more and more. I thought about the Lenten season, and how this is a time of prayer, fasting, and giving. Often, as Catholics, we have this idea that we should NOT be thinking of ourselves, in fact anyone else BUT. I want this time to be different.
I am realizing that feeling like myself is ok. I am realizing that the prayer, fasting, and giving can be for myself and others. I am realizing (finally?) that God means me too! when He speaks of His children. I'm included in that number. He didn't say "everyone except that loon over there in the corner". He said ALL. I am encouraged by this ever-expanding feeling in my gut that even though I won't be well all the time, I'm allowed to enjoy it when I am. I'm allowed to pray for myself as well as the world, I can fast from being needy and afraid of myself, and I can give to myself when I give to others, whether I'm giving money or time or just a simple smile. Look out Clairol, 'cause I'm worth it too!!!
There is a fabulous staff at Emerson Hospital's psych unit, but one gentleman stands out in my mind. We were having a "check-in" conversation (one per shift required), and I mentioned my desire to stop coming to the hospital, that I wanted to be able to handle my illness without it. He said "Laura, I think that's the wrong approach. You are battling a chronic illness, and sometimes that requires hospital care. It is never a defeat to come here. I like to think of this place as just one more stop on the journey. Everyone has to pay attention to their own needs in order to be any good to the Universe at large. Keep paying attention, come here when you need to, and know you are doing the world a favor when you do." I was blown away by his words. Never in my life did I see this as a necessity; it was always just my human failing to have to admit defeat and let doctors & nurses sort me back out. But what if, just like praying, fasting, and giving to myself and others, hospitalization was part of that journey?
What if Lent can be more than just a season for me, but a way of living always? What if I could pray, fast, and give my way to a sense of freedom?
It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me.....
And I'm feeling good.
