mental illness is hard.

mental illness is hard.
loving someone who is battling mental illness is hard.
getting outsiders to understand your struggles with mental illness is hard.
being a person others look to for support while they face mental illness is hard.
being judged blamed accused unsupported rejected all because of mental illness is hard.

Recently I had the opportunity to sit in a room filled with people. People who all had a couple things in common. 1. they love someone or care for someone with mental illness. 2. they all have the 'deer in the headlights' look about them. All of them struggling, grieving, hearts aching and some broken. All looking to me for comfort, advice, regulation, mentoring. Somehow I switched into leadership advocate mode and was able to pull it off. I stood there looking in the eyes of desperate people and for a brief moment thought, "Lord, how in the world am I going to bring hope and healing to these people when I stand before them with the remnants of a broken heart myself?" I stopped myself just short of righteous anger and self pity and slowed my thoughts long enough to hear Him whisper. Open your hand and show them your broken heart. I will mend it along with theirs.
I argued I did not want to share my brokenness with anyone much less a room filled with desperate people, afterall they came for me to help them and give them hope not for me to scare them and steal all hope from their grasp. Gathering all my courage I slowly stood introduced myself, opened my hand and gradually poured out the story of my journey. The more that poured out the stronger I felt. I gathered strength with each word spoken and each tear shed. Yes, I even allowed these people to see my tears. By the end of the time we shared together I saw hope filter into the room. I saw darkness lifting.
I do not believe I made a miraculous difference in these good lives. I do not believe they were all magically happy and filled with joy and hope as they walked to their cars. But I do believe HE used me my experience my journey and my love for my child to show grace and hope and light where it had been missing. I am grateful. I am humbled. For the opportunity to share my story.
Maybe, just maybe slowly as I share my story of mental illness and how it affects my life and breaks my heart daily MAYBE others will walk away feeling more hope more power more compassion more empathy for those on this journey and more sympathy for all touched by mental illness If nothing else I still have grace hope and love.