My Breakdown and What it Did to My Faith

This is hard for me to admit but, this is my journey and if it helps someone it'll be worth saying it:

I had a breakdown a couple of days ago.

Feel free to judge me as you want. The stigma of it makes me feel ashamed but I've come to terms with the fact that I was a lot stronger for much longer than I should've been.

There were a number of contributing factors that just added up at the worst time; all at the same time. Those I've trusted with the details the two main causes -- who hurt me and what happened. No one who knows the details is happy with those involved. I have never seen so much swearing coming from my friends before; they're that angry on my behalf.

Then we have my digital burnout. I don't think I need to say anything about that; y'all know what has happened. Y'all can see some of the hurtful messages I have received in the days prior to my digital detox break -- at least the ones that don't have their accounts protected. I don't need to tell y'all how overwhelmed I felt but y'all also didn't know this happened during one of the most difficult times in my personal life. (side note: if you hate seeing my updates and prayer requests on Twitter so much, please just unfollow me instead of telling me that no one cares about what I'm going through and/or that no one is going to help me when I ask for prayers. It's incredibly hurtful when all I'm asking for is prayers.)

To everyone who kicked me while I was already down, I want to say: I forgive you. I don't want to feel anger or resentment, though I have. I don't want to blame anyone for causing my breakdown, though others have and still do. I'm simply going to pray for those who hurt me and ask God to merciful.

Have I also mentioned that my car broke down (again; still at the mechanic's), that our check for the rent bounced (and now we have to pay $100+ we don't have due to the error; thanks, Chase!), and that I experienced a strong spiritual attack all on the same day as well? Yes, it all happened at once and within a couple of hours.

Hitting rock bottom is incredibly humbling. At first, I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I felt like I deserved it -- all of what happened. Friends will argue with me on those points but that's what I believed. It took a lot of (patiently) walking me through everything that happened to help me get through the worst of it. I now understand that I could have prevented some of it -- up to a point -- but that the bulk of it was out of my hands, I did everything I could to prevent things from ending the way it did. I am so incredibly grateful to God for placing the right people in my path during those dark days because it was really bad.

Going to First Friday adoration last weekend -- though I couldn't stay for the entire hour like I had planned -- was refreshing balm for my weary soul. Immersing myself in scripture, particularly the Psalms, has been the nourishment that has kept me from completely breaking down to the point of needing hospitalization. My regime as a Benedictine Oblate novice -- praying the Divine Office, doing Lectio Divina, and doing everything with God in mind -- has saved me from spiraling down into an even deeper depression.

Providentially, I received my Epiphany gift to myself on the day of the breakdown. That gift? A Benedictine crucifix -- a crucifix with a St. Benedict medal imbedded in it -- blessed and sent by the Benedictine monks at Clear Creek Abbey. It almost felt like God was saying, "Here. You're going to need this. Hold onto it and never forget that the crosses you bear will only bring you closer to Me." And it has felt that way.

Though I hit that wall, God has never been far from my mind. Though my mind might focus on the latest calamity for a minute, I've somehow managed to find God in it.

He's there with me in the arguments and anger, in the tears and sorrow, and in the attacks. He's there with me, reassuring me that it's all going to be okay. No saint went without their trials on this earth. While I'm nowhere near being a saint, I know that God never allows anything to happen which won't sanctify us. I know that if I have to go through this, it's all for a reason.

Perhaps I need to shed vanity, pride, and/or other vices I may have. Perhaps I need to atone for any past sins I might've committed. Perhaps I'm just called to endure suffering to offer it up for others, especially the Church. I don't know the reason (or reasons). I may never know them, but I have no doubt that God is going to use all of this for good because God is good all the time.

The story of Job has been on my mind these last couple of days. I am reminded of how I need to strive to stay faithful to God's commandments and always praise Him for the blessings He has given me, even during the most difficult moments of my life. And, it's not always easy. I've asked God why He has allowed this to happen; why I must suffer. It's a human response to it. I have my moments of "Well, I deserve it", unlike Job who was innocent of wrongdoings. But then I'm reminded that I am a beloved daughter of the Lord's. Just as my earthly father would've hated seeing me in pain and suffering from a broken heart, I know that God does not delight in seeing what is happening. But, as I said, I know that this is all happening for a reason so I accept it. That's when I take refuge in the Psalms, doing Lectio Divina; because I can always find some words of consolation from them.

Just how has my breakdown affected my relationship with God? It has only strengthened it to a degree I didn't know was possible. As I'm writing this, I've reached the point where I'm even grateful for the trials because they have only brought me closer to God.

I meant it when I said that I was prepared to give my heart to God, even if it had to break otherwise. If breaking me down -- making me hit the lowest of the low in a way I had never experienced -- is the way to help me be able to fully give myself to God, then I give thanks for the hardships. I want to belong fully to God and if it means that I have to "start over" (in a sense) from rock bottom then I'm prepared to do that.

After adoration last Friday, I got to chat with a fellow parishioner who helped me see things from a different perspective on one of the main causes of my breakdown. I saw the immense blessings that came from it. Then, as I was getting ready to leave, a ladybug landed on my back (which someone else pointed out because I obviously couldn't see it). It did not want to leave my side. The lovely part of these two things -- the chat and the ladybug -- was that it reminded me of Our Blessed Mother. After all, she was the one who interceded for me -- oh, if I could only tell y'all details of how she blessed me through this crummy situation! Also, legend has it that ladybugs were named after Our Blessed Mother after Catholic farmers asked her intercessions so... hard not to think about her. Having that ladybug on my back felt like Mama Mary saying she also had my back. Badda-tssss.

Things are still a mess. I still have to figure out how to heal, how to move forward, and how to work things out (e.g. the car and rent issues). I'm still very much hurting and fragile. I have to be very careful because I know another big things will push me over the edge and I don't want that to happen. Trust me, it can very easily go there but I have God and Our Lady on my side and I place all my trust in them.

Please, say a prayer for those involved because the two big causes are not pretty and they're not going to go away easily. I pray that those involved have their hearts and minds enlightened by the Holy Spirit to ensure that there is no more hurt inflicting on anyone. One of those people I can (and have) absolutely avoid; the other I cannot, despite everyone's best efforts to put a considerable amount of distance between the two of us.

It's been an incredibly difficult start to 2020 but I know that God will bring good out of this.

Anyway, I hope to write again soon and update y'all with (God willing) better news. For now, I just want to thank everyone who has prayed for me. You have all been in my prayers.

Always, thanks for reading and God bless. :)

Death Anniversaries and the Crucifix

As I type this I am sad, weepy mess. Tomorrow will be 4 years since my father passed away and it still sucks. While I am not a soul-sucking killjoy (or at least I hope I'm not), I am in a funk and the only way to get some of it out is to write so... here I am.

My spiritual director picked up (after one meeting) that I was not done mourning my father's death. He's right; I'm not. It's been a slow process. I don't know where he is (still in purgatory or already in Heaven) but I hope he will either soon be in Paradise or already is. That provides some comfort. I am so incredibly grateful that he came back right before he died and embraced the Church and God fully. I still tear up when I think of how he returned (received the Sacrament of Reconciliation and the Eucharist for the first time in over 40 years) the day before my 24th birthday... and how he had told my mom that it was because he knew how much it would mean to me. My father forgot my birthday every year (without fail) but he gave me the greatest gift for the last one he would be alive for. That is a wonderful memory that I like to think of instead of remembering about how he died.

I saw my father died. I saw him take his last breath. I heard the monitors that were hooked on him flat line. I felt how cold he was hours after he had died (I was the last person to leave him before he was taken to the morgue). All of that triggers my PTSD and makes me feel physical ill; I even feeling a bit faint as I type it out. Yeah, not fun. Don't worry, I am having sugary cereal and making myself a cup of tea so I'll be fine. Anyway, thinking about him and his death reminded me of something: I've always been scared of death but have never had the guts to admit it.

I don't know why but I've always been afraid of it. My earliest memory is of me when I was around 4-5 years-old, sick in bed, asking my parents if I was going to die. I was terrified that being sick meant I was going to die. How I got the idea in that little mind of mine, I don't know. I also remember being utterly terrified of a statue of Jesus, lying in a glass coffin, at the beautiful church where part of my family still attends Mass in Mexico. I visited that small town from ages 7-12 (so, not in over 16 years) and that statue still leaves an impression on me when I think about it.

I wonder, why are we all so afraid of death? Is it because we've all done really dumb (read: still, very human) mistakes that we don't want to be held accountable for? Is it because we don't know where we will end up? Is it because we fear that it's too late to seek total forgiveness and amend our lives? Because it totally isn't and we can.

I think that, for me personally, it's a combination of all of those. I've done a lot of really cringe-worthy things. In fact, I still do. I'm getting better at staying out of the confessional for longer periods of time but I still have to go. I'm not perfect. Do I occasionally think that I will die with some mortal sin without having a chance to confess it? Yes. That worries me. Why do you think I try to lead a holy life (though I often fail) and why I insist on going to confession regularly? I'm not taking any chances.

I think about how Jesus died on the cross for our sins. God loves us to much that His only son (who did not sin) died in the most cruel manner for us. He loves us to much that we have this beautiful sacrament that absolves us from our human mistakes (if one is truly sorry for having committed them) so that we may join him in Heaven one day. There's still hope for us all. It's that hope that keeps me going... and keeps me from going into full depression mode when I think about my father. Every time I look at a crucifix, I am reminded of both the sacrifice and the hope. That is also the reason why I am saving up to get myself a crucifix to wear around my chain (along with my St. Jude pendant; St. Jude's intercession got me to revert to the Faith). I know many non-Catholic Christians will be unhappy with my choice (crucifix instead of a cross) but it's something I am going to do for myself, not for them.

Yes, today and tomorrow are going to suck (pardon the language). I am (and will undoubtedly be) a weepy mess for at least the next two days but whenever I look at the crucifix, which is hung right in front of my bed, I will think about what it means to me. I will give thanks to God for allowing me to have my earthly father for 24 years, for sending His son for our sins, and for His unending love for us.

Believe it or not, I am no longer crying and I am feeling more at peace. Huh. Writing really does help. :)

Anyway, I need to go eat before my next tutoring session begins. Sorry if this post was kind of a downer but I needed to get it out of my chest. :)

As always, thanks for reading and God bless.

Palpitations and Pains in Church; Golden Crucifix Dream.

Man, I've had one doozy of a weekend. When I went to confessions yesterday, my heart kept beating as though it was going to jump out of my chest. It calmed down when I confessed but when I went to kneel in front of the tabernacle, it started right up again. I was trying to say the Act of Contrition and then say the amount of prayers Fr. Juan had given me but I just couldn't concentrate. My heart was beating with so much force that the St. Jude medallion (which I wear on a chain) was actually bouncing off my shirt. That's never happened and it was quite scary. I closed my eyes and said "Lord, if this is the work of the enemy trying to keep me from praying, please help me." I managed to calm down and concentrated after that.

Today, I went to Mass by myself (mom's battling a painful toothache and dad simply didn't "feel like going"). I was fine until I started getting these chest pains over my heart. I ignored the first one but when the second and third came I worried and left Mass. They were about to start with the Eucharist too. :( I was seriously scared because the pains burned. I only got about 5 pains before it stopped though. Still, I got home and I cried. After the ordeal I went through last year, I've remained very nervous about my heart. I think (and hope) it was maybe some heartburn or something. I'd eaten some hot (chili) chicken in the morning and then took a nap an hour and a half later. I woke up with my stomach all acid-y so I think that that's what triggered the burning chest pains. I haven't had any pains since, thank goodness. To be honest, I think I cried mostly because I left Mass early. I was scared about the pains but didn't get a panic attack or anything like that. Hopefully I won't get a repeat of it again.

I don't know what's going on but I think I'm definitely in for a fight. I haven't been praying as much as I used to -- either I run out of time or forget. I didn't go to Mass for two weekends (I was sick in bed the first week and had that midterm last Sunday) and confession for 3 weeks. That was also a first. I usually go to confession once a week... or at least once every 2 weeks. It's been that way for nearly 2 years now. I had to leave Mass early the last time I went, and again today. My parents have started refusing to go to Church with me. Oh, I'm definitely in for a battle but I'm not going to give up on these things! At least I'm still having my wonderful dreams.

A few nights ago I had this dream that I was left at the altar, in my wedding dress, by someone I cared about in real life a while ago. Anyway, I was really upset in the dream and then I found this golden crucifix. It somehow appeared in my hand, wrapped in a silk handkerchief. I was so happy to see it that I kissed it because I knew that it was a sign of comfort... and then woke up. I told a friend of mine about this and he said, "Well, maybe the golden Crucifix means that Jesus is always there. Gold is precious, so even though things go to custard, as you could say, Jesus is still there. So Jesus is your treasure." I think he's right. Lately I've been feeling just horrible at home and the lack of communications between my friends and I is starting to take its toll on me. I think that I just have to remember that I'll always have the love of God, and our beautiful Blessed Mother; especially when I don't feel it from anyone else. The dream was definitely a reminder of that... and that's such a comforting thought to have. :D I hope everyone remembers that when they're feeling down.

Alright, well, I have to work on some schoolwork. Yeah, it's a never-ending cycle of critical analysis and research papers. lol. I hope everyone had a great weekend!

As always, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D
.

Cold, You are NO Friend of Mine; Dreams: End of the World (Again).

I think I have my first actual cold (not just cold-like symptoms) in nearly 3 years. Yes, you read that correctly. The last time I had a full blown cold/flu was in November 2005. You see? I'm pretty healthy, except for my anxiety. :D This blog won't be too long because I want to get back into bed soon. Hopefully my anxiety won't get worse. Prayer to St. Dymphna will definitely be said today! Mister Cold, you are definitely NO friend of mine! I missed my British Lit class yesterday... and my paper was due! UGH! But, trust me, I spent most of the day in bed because I felt like passing out. I only went to the hospital to get the heart monitor taken off. Hey, maybe the whole episode on Sunday was just a warning that a cold was on it's way. Ah!

I had yet ANOTHER end of the world dream. It's been quite a while since I've written about my dreams, eh? I've only had one dream about what happened after the world ended (which I wrote about a few months ago). Most of my dreams that are about the end of the world never get beyond what's happening as the world is ending. Only that one in April has been about what happened afterward -- walking through Purgatory and all of that with my parents and maternal grandmother. Last night's dream was typical except that it went a little further than usual.

In the dream, we looked up to the sky -- the sun was setting behind us and we could see the sky getting darker and all the stars shining like little diamonds in the sky. Then I saw three bomb explosions happening right next to each other in the sky. The explosions were very golden but think of the color of 10 karat gold. That light golden color. Then I saw something silver/metallic coming down from the sky and the earth began to shake violently. I remember going to grab the Our Lady of Guadalupe framed picture that's up on my way and then grabbing the St. Jude statues (kind of like what I do in real life when there's an earthquake) and hold them close to me. I remember seeing a life sized crucifix, with Jesus nailed to the cross. I remember it getting nearer and nearer but then I woke up. Yeah. It's been quite a while since I've had any dreams like that.

Dreams are just weird, man. I haven't told Fr. Leo any of my recent dreams but I know he's interested in them. As Fr. James once told me, my dreams are better than movies. lol. He's absolutely right. :D Hopefully I'll be able to chat with him once my cold goes away. I need to talk to him anyway, see if he can help me with something. :D

Alright, well, I need to get back to bed and drink plenty of fluids. I want this cold out of me as soon as possible. One positive thing about this cold, I have more time for prayer and for movies about saints! WHOO! lol. Hey, when I get sick, I find more time to devote myself to the Lord and prayer so I see it as a blessing... despite the gross feelings. :D

I hope everyone's doing well. As always, thanks for reading and God Bless.
.

Books, Ignoring Joy Behar and Sketching Our Lady.

Someone take my credit card away, fast! lol. I have become addicted (okay, not completely but getting there) to browsing for books and buying them if they are something I want. Okay, fine, I've only bought 2 but still... I have a feeling I will buy more if given the chance. Ack! I have been on amazon.com and abebooks.com quite a bit lately but it's mostly because I am selling my old textbooks that I no longer need. While I'm there, I look for books I want. I have exercised some serious self-control but, being a bibliophile, it's really hard for me not to get any more... especially when I'm going to have another 8-9 months off from school! Ack! lol. Thankfully, all books have been worth it (one was the autobiography of St. Theresa of Avila, the other was on Catholicism as a whole) so it's not like I am spending on mindless dribble. Still... someone needs to come over and pry the card out of my little hands. lol. I've also been looking at getting a Claddagh ring but that's a whole different story. lol.

So, I saw on the Global Roman Catholic facebook group (link is on the right side for those who wish to join in) a link to this quote that Joy Behar said on The View. This woman, who was raised Roman Catholic, said "Saints were psychotic and advances in modern medicine have essentially wiped them off the planet." Though it was meant to be a "joke" (oh yeah, I'm laughing here... not!), it was still uncalled for. This isn't the first time she's said something offensive about the church either. I understand the freedom of speech and all but is it really necessary to attack the Catholic church? I don't think so. All she did was tick people off. Whatever. I'm just going to ignore everything she says because she obviously doesn't know jack. It's people like her, saying comments like these, which made me become more moderate-conservative than I was (I used to consider myself a bit more liberal). I could get into this whole debate about this topic but I'm just going to ignore it and her from now on. Not worth my time anymore.

I woke up feeling very groggy and dizzy again today -- for no reason -- so I prayed the Rosary and asked St. Jude to give me a sign as to what I should do to at least get my mind off of how I was feeling (which was horrible!). At first I decided to clean the St. Jude statues we have, the one of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and a Crucifix. That was done pretty quickly so I decided to take out my sketching pad and I just started sketching Our Lady of Guadalupe. I sat at the edge of my bed, while I was watching re-runs of Degrassi TNG on The N, and I would look at two of the pictures of her in my room. It took me about an hour (I wanted to it get done as well as I could) but I finally got it done -- down to the littlest details. The one thing I am not very good at is sketching people, so I was surprised that it wasn't completely terrible. I still have a few more things to add (I'm trying to sketch something personal) but I'll, hopefully, upload and share it on this blog as soon as I'm done. I do my best work with actual paint so maybe I'll try it again another time. Still, the time it took me to draw her and also clean really helped me feel better so it was actually all good. Hopefully I will be able to continue it tomorrow, especially if I feel as bad as I did today. :D

Alright, well, I want to go see the "Pope John Paul II" DVD I got from Netflix a week ago. I should probably send it back soon as I can get through my extremely long list of films I want to watch. So, for now, thanks for reading and God Bless. :D