This is going to be a shorter blog post than my other ones, mainly because I have so many other ideas that I am eager to get to. I wanted to briefly share a couple more things that have helped me get through my illness. These things have been crucial to me finding a reason and purpose to live.

The first thing I have to mention is my relationship with God. Now, I do not consider myself ‘religious’ so to speak, mainly because I always thought that doctrinal religion is binding and I do not believe that is what Jesus wanted. But I do believe that my personal relationship with God has been the most important reason I am alive today. I think that God shows himself to us in different ways. He wants to know us and wants us to know Him, but I still struggle with my personal battles and fears. I was angry with Him for a long time at why I suffered such terrible mental afflictions. I discovered that through this disorder I have learned more about people and the mind than I would have any other way. Since I know first-hand what depression and psychosis are like, I have a tremendous amount of empathy for other people and the plights they endure. I have been at the bottom of the pit and therefore I can see where people come from when they say they struggle, and the fact that they can know they aren’t alone is helpful. I do not claim to understand the entirety of God, but for me and others in my life, He has been a key factor in facing life’s terrors. I won’t go into everything in detail because it would take forever, but God is much bigger than we can perceive and works above our ability to understand. The way I see it, God is colorful and shows mercy, most likely even after we die on this world. We all will have a chance to know Him even if it isn’t on Earth. That is my theory and that has been strong on my mind. If I can be compassionate and merciful, how much more so is He who made us?

Anyway, God has been important in giving me a purpose to live for. The other major help has been writing. For years I was stuck behind a proverbial wall that prevented me from writing anything at all. I would sit down to write and the words would not come. But this last summer I forced myself to keep a journal and made myself write about anything at all for fifteen minutes a day. I eventually wrote a couple of prompts and I was reading some really good, inspiring material, and ideas began to generate. I practiced at writing and soon I was eager to write every day. I had a routine and it kept me moving. Writing has helped release so much stress and the fact that I can create something of worth with my mind is such a powerful feeling. I took some excellent writing courses this last semester and I produced hundreds of pages of material that I can develop further. Reading is also a great way to distract my angst and I am currently reading several novels that I am greatly engaged in (I will be posting about them too). Writing has given me purpose, and I have goals for my life that I never had before. I even started a blog to share all these things with you. And I haven’t even began writing about all the things I want to on here. My blog is going to be full of all kinds of stuff that I hope is worth reading.

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