I know God has a purpose in keeping me alive or I wouldn't be. I just don't know what that is or why I so easily and quickly fell for the lies of the enemy. I have truly never been in a place like this. This is utterly unlike my depression of times past when I simply thought about ways to kill myself, but never attempted. I am not sure what caused me to step over that line this time. But I feel it is a line that cannot be crossed back over, I opened a door that I cannot shut.
I question whether I can even be forgiven for breaking so many of the commandments at once, ever though His word is very clear on the issue. I know what the Bible says; my emotions say otherwise, and I have to fight to keep a Biblical perspective.
His sovereignty is my only hope and my deepest fear. My only hope in that only a sovereign God can get me out of the mess I've made (now compounded) and use this for my good and His glory, and my deepest fear in that He may prevent me from killing myself if I ever try again. I want to be master of my own fate and call my own shots in life. A sovereign God short-circuits that and must be followed because only a sovereign God is worthy of being followed.
A sovereign God takes away my freedom, and that is something I want to protect at all costs, even if I always use that freedom to destroy.
I realize I still have very deep issues with God. I thought they were resolved, but they weren't. They were answered. And the answers are ones I do not like, and so I struggle and rail against the only One who has ever loved me. I know all this - in my head. It has not yet made it to my heart.
I prayed nightly that my heart would be synched with His word. And instead of trying to live that out, I tried to kill myself. I wish it were as easy to sync my heart to His word as it is to sync my iPhone to iTunes.
I'm pretty sure this is a pretty bad screw-up, and I broke multiple commandments that night. Can such heinous sin from a believer be forgiven? Is there hope for me? Satan tells me I'm such a screw-up - I can't even kill myself without messing it up. But God tells me there's a purpose in keeping me alive.
When I came to on Thursday afternoon I was dressed in the garb of all the other inmates - blue slacks and blue shirt and non-skid socks. I have two memories of Wednesday, the first is being wrestled to the ground (or bed) and someone shouts "5mg Geodon!" I feel a sharp pain in my butt, but barely feel it and lapse back into unconsciousness. I am told they gave me a few injections, but I only remember the one.
The second memory is of waking up in one of the rooms. I am no longer tied down. I need to pee really bad. I try to get out of bed and my legs collapse under me. I try to get up again, and fall backward. I try to crawl, and again fall backward. I finally just lay on the floor and go unconscious again. I suspect I must have peed myself because when I woke up Thursday I didn't need to pee nearly as bad.
If that isn't the picture of the seriousness of what I've done, I don't know what is. Even trying to fill in the holes is painful. How could I have let myself sink so low?
And when I checked, I had no underwear. I have no idea if the others with me were the same, or they just got tired of me wetting myself and just threw some slacks on with no undies. No bra either. Just slacks and shirt, nothing underneath.
I didn't have a Bible for most of my time there. The Spirit used what He had available - Scriptures that I have read so many times that I can practically quote them, or a sermon illustration about thanking God for things you never thought to thank Him for before. In short order I was made to thank Him for my clothes, even though they were not mine, and my bed, even though it was not mine and may not be mine the next night, and the food even though it was terrible. It was nutrition and I thanked Him for that. I thanked Him for the roof, even though it was the roof of my prison.
I didn't do this because I wanted to. I did this because this is what the Holy Spirit brought to mind. There was no option. God doesn't bring to mind to praise Him in a place of despair unless He means for you to carry out that praise. It's training for me, to help me learn to praise Him for all the little things I normally take for granted, such as clothing and food, and learn to praise Him in the middle of the storm. Baby steps. :)
God didn't feel close during this time. My only real prayers there were, "Lord, have mercy," and "God, help me!" That was all I could pray. And He has answered those, both by helping me, and showing me not just mercy, but true unmerited, undeserved grace.
I saw people fly off the handle at the smallest perceived offense. They would be herded into a room. If they screwed that up by refusing to stay in the room or turning over the bed (yeah, I saw a woman do that and a security guard remarked to me how heavy those beds were), they would have their arms pulled behind their back (not in a rough way), and escorted to a room where they could be tied down as I was at first. I was combative, which is why they had to resort to drugs as well.
I haven't slept more than 4 hours a night in a week. I'll sleep 3 or 4 hours and then be awake the rest of the night. Getting back to my regimen of Benedryl and melatonin hasn't helped. Brad thinks it's the drugs being worked out of my system, but how can it go on for so long? I just want to sleep.
And so I am forced back to square one (Dad's death) to really deal with the emotional fallout, and everything that has happened since. It means admitting that I am at a place where I need help.
Camping is such a small portion of this. Yes, I am heartbroken to see God's judgment fall on the very people who believe they are immune to it, but this is where God has me, and I know that I am a created thing, and He can (and will) do as He wishes with my heart. Perhaps He wants me to feel the brokenness He feels at having to judge their evil. But I know His holiness is too important to let it go unpunished. And that is also why I am suffering - He disciplines me because I affronted His holiness and glory. I was stupid and tried to commit self-murder.
I feel like I am freefalling again, just as I have so often these last few months. God has always caught me, but I worry that this time will be different, this time he won't catch me, this time He will give me what I deserve instead of mercy.
In those times I cling to His word. He will not ever go against what He has already said. He declares me forgiven by Christ; I am forgiven, even if I don't feel forgiven or feel I don't deserve forgiveness. His word is clear. I'm forgiven. Period.
Now if I could just get my heart in sync with His word. My biggest regret from last week is not that I did it, but that I wasn't successful. I know that's wrong, but that's where I am.