Of Standing Men

An old man sits at a prison table, behind bars, under heavy guard. His worn blue eyes are pensive, thoughtfully fixed on the man standing opposite. This man, younger but not quite young, wears a look of intense worry. He seems burdened with some momentous weight.

But, the old man is speaking, telling a story. He tells the younger man that he reminds him of a friend of his father's, who used to come around when the old man was a boy. This friend of his father's, he said, was pointed out to him by his father, who told him, as a young boy, to watch that man. For twenty years his father's friend had done nothing at all remarkable. Yet still his father said, 'watch that man'. So the boy watched him. And one night, their house was overrun with border guards.

In the old man's words, 'This man, my father's friend was beaten. Every time they hit him, he stood back up again. So they hit him harder. Still he got back up to his feet. I think because of that they let him live.'

The younger man's brow furrows in confusion. 'And I remind you of this man?'

Nodding slowly, the old man replies, 'Standing man.' His eyes unfocus, reaching deep into the past. 'Standing man'.

Now, lest you think that I concocted this all in my own brain...I assure you it was all from Spielberg's latest film, Bridge of Spies. The old man is an alleged Soviet spy, while the younger man is his lawyer. Originally arranged as a farce of a trial for positive PR, it turns into far more when an American spy is captured by the Soviets and the task of exchanging the two falls to the old man's lawyer.

And....I must admit, I've always been in love with the idea of a standing man. I just didn't have the words for it until now. It takes a certain kind of strength - a different level of courage - to stand back up, repeatedly, undauntedly, knowing that you will only be knocked down again and harder.

But what makes a 'standing man'? 

I've been puzzling over it all day, and I think I finally understand.

What makes him remarkable is that...he wasn't a hero. His whole life was spent standing quietly in the shadows. He wasn't some grand person. He had done 'nothing remarkable for 20 years'. And yet, when the time came, when it really mattered - he alone stood.

If he had been a hero, then it wouldn't have been remarkable. If he had been known for deeds of greatness.....But the courage of ordinary men....

See, one does not always have to be great to do great things, or to inspire others. One does not have to be a hero all the time. One simply has to stand back up, over and over and over again. To quietly stand. To never give in, never give up, never bow, never surrender. 

'I think it was because of that that they let him live'. 

And here we come to the deepest reason that I can't let go of this concept. Because I want so desperately to believe that if I don't bow, if I get back up again and again and again, even though it seems that every single time I do, I am knocked down harder and more violently than before, that perhaps, someday, the darkness might let me live. 

But, in the meantime....?

I stand. 

For The Nights When I Want to Relapse

There are days when recovery is...well, not easy, but easier. There are days when I am happy and carefree and secure, when I am able to put the past behind me and drown out the voices in my head with His truth

But other days?

Other days, my brain seems stuck on a loop, incessantly asking what good is recovery!? what use is it, if I'll always to some degree want this? And even if I do manage to get free, who would ever want me with my past?

And I know He mends with gold. I know that in His hands, the brokenness is beautiful, but sometimes I feel only broken and not beautiful at all.

Like, will I ever be free? Truly free? Does it matter if I cave if I'll always struggle with this?

Depression screams hopelessness at me. The devil whispers condemnation in one ear, and shame in the other. And I want nothing more than to find a small sharp blade and watch as the blood runs red. Or overdose myself into oblivion. Or run back to everything I'm ashamed of in a futile effort to hide the pain.

And I know, I know that that will accomplish nothing, save drag me yet further into everything I must escape from. But there are still nights where the pull to darkness is oh so strong, and I grow weary of pressing on when all around me seems hopeless.

Tonight is one of those nights.

The sort of night where I climb out onto the roof, curl up, and sob my sorrows to the stars because they are too great for me to hold, and in the stillness of the aftermath, when I am shaken with weeping and drained to the core, the demons taunt and jeer, throwing my failures in my face and pulling me right back down again.

But I've learned that, it isn't what I do when life is sunshiney and cheerful that counts half so much as what I do the nights during which I cannot drag my weary soul anymore through this worn and tattered life.

So, tonight, like so many nights before it, and, probably, for many more nights after it, I shall crawl into bed, plug in my headphones, turn up the music, and let it carry me away.

5 Reasons Why People Quit Recovery.

So, you finally did it. You had your breakthrough, you hit rock bottom, realized you couldn't live like this anymore, and decided it was time to get better. It was time to recover. No turning back, right? And for a while, things started to look up. Maybe your surroundings hadn't changed, but you were different, determined.

....Until three months down the road, and you find yourself sobbing in a corner, relapsed, or considering it, and on the verge of quitting 'this recovery thing' altogether.

See, recovery is a tricky topic. It's one thing to decide that you want to get better, but quite another thing to follow through on that, and a separate thing altogether to actually see the process through to the end.

For anyone recovering from an addiction of any sort, self harm, eating disorder, or even mental illness, I'd like to share five reasons that I've discovered, on my own journey, as to why we are inclined to quit recovery, and perhaps also offer some tips, both for anyone struggling, and for those who help them

1. Lack of Support. 

This is the most important and my least favorite aspect of recovery. I can't say this enough. Support is vital. God didn't create us to live life alone. Heck, in the perfect world He created, the only thing He said was not good was 'to be alone'. I'm far too independent and far too stubborn for my own good - as my friends will readily tell you - but, harsh as it sounds, people need other people. People who are struggling especially need other people. You need healthy people. People who will lift you up, hold you accountable, speak truth into your life, and point you towards God. 

My advice then, if you're struggling, would be to talk to your friends. Talk to a counselor. Talk to someone. Find someone. Find a community. I would love to think that I'm competent on my own, that somehow, I can independently handle my problems, but truth is, I'm not, and neither are you. And bottling it all up, holding it all in, only means it will come out in other, destructive ways.

If you're friends with someone who is recovering, an important thing to remember is that, in recovery, they need your love and care and support and encouragement and understanding more than they did when they were sick! Because now, instead of drowning or suppressing their sorrows, they're trying to work through them, and need extra support. Not less. Talk to them about things other than their struggles, ask how they are, check up on them, make sure they know they're wanted and not just put up with. "Better" doesn't mean "well", and oftentimes friends, while they may not stop caring, do stop expressing that care once they hear the word "recovery".

And believe me, I know how taxing it can be to help someone who's struggling, which is why my second point is essential. 

2. Trying To Do It All In Your Own Strength

Along the lines of the previous reason, while we desperately need other people, we also desperately need God. We need His support, His promises, His steadfast and unfailing love, His shelter, and we need to run to Him for our refuge when life gets too overwhelming. The times I've become the most overwhelmed, and wanted to quit the most, were the times that I wasn't relying on God, wasn't talking to my friends, and generally, trying to go it alone. 

Talk to God. As the Psalmist says, 'pour out your heart before Him, for God is a refuge for us'. (Psalm 62...easily one of my favorite chapters ever, of all time). There will be times when people can't be there for you. He always is. And the amazing thing about God, I'm learning, is that while people can't always handle the depth of emotion we sometimes feel, He can. He'll take it all - the anger, the fear, the hatred, the pain, the sadness - He can handle it. He takes it, and He holds me. 

This goes for everyone, across the board - whether you're recovering, or just friends with someone who is recovering. You can't solve the other person's problems. Talk to Jesus. I can't solve my own problems. So I will talk to Jesus too, and He gives us the hope and strength to carry on. One of the most important things you can do for someone who is recovering, second only to just being there for them with love and compassion and understanding, is pointing them back to the true Healer, our only Refuge, who is Jesus. 

3. You Didn't Really Have A Breakthrough

I've had several 'false starts'. At least, that's what I call them. A false start is when your emotions are touched, but your heart really hasn't changed. Kinda like Dieppe vs. Normandy, for all you war history people. You emotionally decide that you should get better, but you don't engage your will. Without a conscious decision to recover, and the willpower to see it through, recovery will forever remain an elusive phantom, taunting you, yet always out of reach.

As a good friend loves to remind me, it's all about the choice. You must make the hard decision to recover. In one of my favorite musicals, (Next to Normal), there's a scene where the main character is discussing her life with her psychiatrist, and he tells her to "make up your mind you can live at last, make up your mind to be fully alive...make up your mind you are strong enough...make up your mind to be well!". You must choose.

Honestly, if you're on the other end of this, and not the one choosing, I have little advice for you on this one apart from...pray. Pray that God would show his power, pray that they will make up their mind, and then consistently remind them that recovery is a choice, they can decide, they have the power to choose that this is not how their story will end.

4. The Environment Hasn't Changed

Here I must make a caveat. It isn't always possible for the environment to change, and I realize that. There are situations where, you must choose recovery, knowing that the situation won't, in all likelihood, change, and the only thing different is you. Sometimes it is possible for the entire situation to change completely - which is incredible - but sometimes it isn't.

However, there are always factors that are within your control. Don't choose the bar as a place to meet up with friends. Throw away the lighters and blades. Toss the cigarettes. Pour the alcohol down the drain, and then shred your liquor store points cards. Make a meal plan and have people hold you accountable for eating. Take your medication. Talk to your counselor. Don't hang out with negative influences, which might mean cutting some toxic people out of your life. There's almost always something you can do, and it's worth it in order to get well.

And for those who help? Sometimes, taking away the blade, knocking the cigarette or bottle out of someone's hand, putting a plate of food in front of them and insisting that they eat...can make a much bigger difference than you realize. Sometimes just getting them out of their situation, if only for a few hours, can be one of the best things for them.

But...sometimes, and I say this with great deliberation......you need to get other people involved in order for the situation to change, and that person to get well. In some cases that's calling CPS. In others, it's telling someone who can either get that person professional help, or get them out of that situation, what's really going on. This I say with the additional caveat that this is not to be used lightly, without much prayer, and only as a very last resort.

5. Optimism/Impatience

Last but not least, optimism kills....Now, I grew up on stories of people who prayed and were instantly healed, junkies who received the Holy Spirit and never even wanted drugs again, so I still struggle with this. I want to be better now, and it took me awhile to realize that, just because I've had my breakthrough doesn't mean that life is going to be easy. Matter of fact, it's gotten harder. Recovery isn't easy, and it doesn't happen overnight. And if you think that just because you've had your breakthrough, now you won't struggle, then I've got news for you. Life doesn't work that way. Recovery doesn't work that way, but strength is built through struggle.

There are few things that kill the desire to recover quicker than the realization that recovery is about a thousand times harder than destroying yourself. And if you don't make the decision to recover with that in mind, then, instead of being prepared for the hard times when they come - because they will come, and you will want to quit far more and often than you ever dreamed you would - then, when the dark times come, you will quit. Because you weren't prepared. Plus, if you're naturally impatient like me, the fact that recovery is a journey and a process, not an overnight kind of a deal, will take some learning.

For the rest of you, much as I may have hated it at the time, I am deeply grateful to those who kept my feet on the ground, and reminded me that my breakthrough was, to borrow yet another war metaphor, the Battle of Saratoga, and not Yorktown. Encouragement is so important, but to allow someone you care about to fool themselves into believing that they've been cured overnight, or that recovery will be a snap, does more harm than good.

All that to say. This is in no way an exhaustive list, but if you, like me, want to quit recovery at times, or if you're at a loss for what to do with a friend who has either relapsed, or given up altogether, then I hope this proves useful to you.

As Winston Churchill, a man who knew all too well how to fight against impossible odds, once said, "Never give in. Never. Never. Never."

Never give in, never give up. Keep on keeping on. Keep fighting. Stay strong. Chin up. You got this, and, more importantly, God's got you.

To quote C. S. Lewis, "Courage, child." Both for the one in recovery, and the one helping, "you have chosen the roughest road, but it goes straight to the hilltops" (John Buchanan).

So never, ever, ever, under any circumstances, quit, give up, or lay down and die.

Never. 

They Love Me More When I'm Broken..Don't They?

So, today I'm hopping back on the soapbox because I've noticed an interesting trend lately, and I rather hate it. 

I don't know why - maybe it's human nature - but as soon as people hear the word "better", they automatically assume "well".

And, for the record, better does not mean well. 

I was better - I was so much better - after camp. I trusted God, my friends, my family, heck, my life!

So how did I wind up, three months later, drowning under the screams that everyone would be far better off if I were dead? 

Fall Out Boy captures it pretty well. 

"My heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broken". 

And, I've realized it's true. The sad awful reality, and part of why I loathe my depression as much as I do, is that, while, yes, I needed you when I was cutting, burning, overdosing, purging, starving...I needed you to point me to the light, and remind me that things get better....I need you far more when I'm not harming, starving, overdosing, purging, etc. 

Because, before, if life got overwhelming, I at least had my old destructive habits to run back to! I often wouldn't even talk to you until after I'd cut, burned, overdosed...

I passionately believe that it is the power of love - God's and people's - that alone can save someone who is hurt and hurting. 

But, I've also come to wonder if, the reason so many people 'fail' at recovery, is because, as soon as their friends, relatives, etc hear the words 'recovery' or 'better', they...don't stop caring...but perhaps stop expressing that care. 

And much as it pains me to admit it - for several reasons, not the least of which, is that it sounds awfully selfish - I need your love, I need your care, I need your support and encouragement and affirmation more in recovery than I ever did when I was sick! 

Because, like it or not, recovery sucks. It's much more difficult than destroying myself, for sure, and if all your gentleness disappears with my announcement that I'm 'better', then, instead of being able to turn to you with the small things before they become big things, I'll hold them all in for fear of bothering you, and then, when I finally do explode, it won't be pretty. 

If you used to actually seem like you cared about me while I was destroying myself, and then, now, take about fifteen giant steps back, what am I supposed to think? 

If you don't engage on topics other than how much I really want to give up, then I'll not go to you when I do, and if I do, I'll hate myself for going to you, and before long, I'll be convinced that you wouldn't care if I were dead, either, because nothing makes me feel like a burden faster than if you only talk to me, only care, when I'm falling apart! 

And I hate, hate, hate, how abominably selfish that sounds, and I know that part of it is absolutely my fault for being as stubborn as I am, and how firmly I refuse sometimes to lean on anyone else, but if you only love me when I'm breaking, and spend the rest of your time trying to distance yourself from me on all social media, pretending I don't exist, and ignoring my texts.... 

I can absolutely see why 'lack of support' is listed as number 1 under reasons for failed recovery. 

And I don't want to fail this time. I've failed far too many times, far too much, Nor is this an attempt to blame anyone. I take full responsibility for the times I've caved, but, by the same token, if it has taken me this long to learn to trust my friends' love and care, and then, almost all the outward signs of it disappear? 

I don't know. 

There's got to be a better way. 

There just has to.