#Someone Held by love

#KwentoNino

Hi, I’m Justine. I’ve been attending GCF since I was 3. I was technically raised in church: first came to know Christ when I was 6 years old and studied in GCF-ICS from middle school to high school. I had re-committed my life to Christ at least 4 times before I had fully surrendered it in 2017. Today, I have the privilege of working here as a full time staff member.

By the end of 2018, I was diagnosed with the Bipolar II disorder, a form of mental illness where my mood cycles between highs (known as hypomania) and more often lows (or depression). In between hypomania and depression, people with bipolar II typically live normal lives. Currently, I take 3 pills that help balance my mood disorders, hormonal imbalances and insomnia.

‘Still, I would get up every day, and did what I had to. It had come to a point when I wanted everything to stop: Not a single ounce of joy was left in me. I wanted to die.’

Last September, I had one of my more serious suicidal episodes. Prior to this, my attempts ended with just thoughts or ideas of how I wished to kill myself. My depression started 4 months before when I had made a huge irresponsible mistake which caused sleeplessness for me and others. I was running out solutions as each option entailed someone else answering for my mistake, which felt wrong. That’s when my suicidal thoughts began. It was the escape I wanted, even though it didn’t solve the problem. I felt like I was a burden to everyone around me, and I didn’t want that. I couldn’t be that. Still, I would get up every day, and did what I had to. It had come to a point when I wanted everything to stop: Not a single ounce of joy was left in me. I wanted to die.

Memories started flashing back. Labels that were placed upon me 12 years ago seemed louder than ever. One of which was a comment that said I was not a woman of my word. I was disliked because I couldn’t live up to what I say. I thought that comment had passed since I promised never to be that type of person again. Yet, in that moment, it had never felt much truer because my all attempts had failed.

I prayed and made a deal with God that if He still had a purpose for the mess that I am, I would give Him two weeks to show me anything that would make me want to stay. Any sign or help, just anything that would make me feel that I am wanted or needed in this world.

But each passing day grew darker and heavier. On the last day, I woke up with a firm decision that I would do it. I came to work and teared up a few times throughout the day at the thought that it was final, wondering what will be said of me, and what effect it would bring to my community.

When I got home at 7pm, I cried while trying to reach certain trusted people. At 10pm, someone replied. I was talking to a friend who always made me happy to be with. I brought up the idea that I wanted to kill myself that night, but I had also dismissed it when I sensed she wasn’t in the mood to hear it. We talked about other things, but ended the conversation with her encouraging me. It felt good unloading myself, but the pain and desire to die did not go away.

The next thing I knew, it was 2AM, and I was on the balcony of our unit on the 8th floor. I was crying till my tears had dried, apologizing to God for what I was about to do. I messaged my friend, “Help me get out of this. Talk me out of it.” But got no response, yet I took that as a sign to go commit to jumping off.

I leaned on the railings, swaying back and forth. How do I jump? What if I survive? Will I survive? Who will miss me and who will I miss most? Should I have messaged everyone that I loved them? That I was doing it to leave them at peace? My mind was filled with a million thoughts as tears streamed again. I couldn’t take it anymore. I hopped on the ledge. One last deep breath calling out to God - when suddenly, everything fell quiet.

‘I felt like a newborn being cradled to sleep; that while I’m fragile, He’s got me wrapped me in His arms. It was the most comforting, non-physical hug I had received. It was a voice with no sound that spoke louder than anything it this world.’

Quiet, like the waves just stopped roaring. I suddenly found peace. I want to say it looked like I just shut off, but the vivid scene of a calm ocean at dawn was all I could see. And all I could hear was a loud distinct voice hushing me to rest. I was tired. So I got off the ledge and went to bed. That was the moment I felt God’s presence, His love and care. How precious life actually is. That was the moment it was clear to me that I needed to fully let go and trust Him completely. I felt like a newborn being cradled to sleep; that while I’m fragile, He’s got me wrapped me in His arms. It was the most comforting, non-physical hug I had received. It was a voice with no sound that spoke louder than anything it this world.

Being a Christian and growing up with a mental illnesses has caused me to constantly belittle and doubt myself. And even when that suicidal episode felt traumatic, it needed to happen for me to be reminded of the glimpse I saw of God’s glory. It had also pushed my family and I to seek the professional help I needed. Mental illnesses aren’t just matters of the heart, but the body as well. His love and truth is constant - regardless of my imperfections or successes, in spite of my hurts and hurts I’ve caused those around me. It was the reminder I needed to truly believe again in His power and His promises, in His truths and His comfort, in His peace and working hand.

My depression and anxiety are still there, but I continue forward, with a renewed sense of my Living Hope. and with the help and support of my immediate community.

Justine-Someone Held by Love