My Bipolar Testimony

Dear friends and strangers,

The National Institute of Mental Health defines Bipolar as such:
Bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks. Symptoms of bipolar disorder are severe. They are different from the normal ups and downs that everyone goes through from time to time. Bipolar disorder symptoms can result in damaged relationships, poor job or school performance, and even suicide. But bipolar disorder can be treated, and people with this illness can lead full and productive lives.

I am an enthusiastic and passionate Christian. A wife of nearly 12 years. A mother of three. A former educator. A caregiver. A daughter. A sister. A friend. And, I am bipolar.

I choose not to let bipolar define me, but it is undeniably part of who I am, and I’d like to tell you part of my story.

For many years I suffered from depression, or so we thought. I was given prescriptions from my Family Doctors and General Practitioners, for a variety of different medicines. I’ve taken a number of anti-depressants over the years. Most recently, I’ve been on Prozac for the last 6 to 7 years.

In 2008 I began to display very uncharacteristic behavior and had multiple inappropriate online relationships, all of which I eventually confessed to my husband, John. We worked through this and our marriage seemed to be restored, or at least headed in that direction. We were doing well.

Then, December of 2009 hit and I told my husband I was done. I wanted to leave our marriage because it was just too difficult for me anymore. I was miserable and couldn’t seem to fix anything. In my mind, it was all John’s doing. He wasn’t good enough to me, or didn’t say the right things all the time and he didn’t make me happy anymore.

This is why I praise God for my husband every day. He refused to accept this and recognized immediately that this was not the wife he knew and loved. Neither had my behavior in the last couple years been representative of the woman he fell in love with. He courageously asked me to see a professional. Not a Family physician, but a Psychiatrist. I reluctantly agreed (thank God).

At this point, I couldn’t even handle the stress of trying to find a doctor. John did all the footwork and found a doctor in Fairhope who would see me and accept our insurance, despite the fact he wasn’t “currently accepting new patients.” John spoke to the doctor’s nurse, found out what he could do regarding how to “deal” with me in the meantime. He also initiated marriage counseling for us immediately.

Upon seeing the psychiatrist, I was diagnosed with rapid cycle bipolar disorder. We were informed at the same appointment that the Prozac I had been on for years was the worst possible medicine I could have been taking. Naturally, we were furious with previous doctors (and this is why anyone who speaks to me about this will know immediately that I adamantly believe people need to be seeing a psychiatrist for psychiatric issues, not their general practitioner.) My doctor lowered my Prozac and began a regular regimen of a mood stabilizer.

It took several months, but between weekly counseling and my new medication, I began to feel normal again. This was a feeling I had become painfully unfamiliar with and I didn’t even realize it. John and I started to heal. He attended counseling with me and was my accountability in so many ways. He made sure I took my medication and he was responsible for keeping my behavior in check. It was only through the power of Christ that I was able to defer my authority over myself in these areas to him. Trust me when I tell you how incredibly hard it is to have to defer to another’s opinion of my behavior and mood over my own. There do not seem to be adequate words to express the level of trust this requires between two people.

I stand before you today a healed woman. God hasn’t healed my bipolar, but he has healed me nonetheless. I take my medication every day, and do so willingly because of my deep desire to be healthy. God has redeemed me, restored my marriage fully and saved my children from unspeakable and irreversible harm through the courage and insight of my husband. He provided me with a tremendous Christian counselor and a psychiatrist with the expertise I needed. God filled me with the power to trust these people. Friends, whether it’s the way we usually define “healing” or not, God healed me.

Living with bipolar is not easy. I choose every day to be healthy and to take my medicine (that’s another vicious facet of the disease, the conviction that you don’t need your medicine anymore). I still see my counselor once a month. I see my psychiatrist every couple months, or more if we believe my meds need an adjustment. My children have had to learn to live with my disease. My husband, God bless him, has traveled this ugly rollercoaster-road with me from the get-go. Friendships and family relationships have been strained (some, terribly so). This is not an easy disease to understand or empathize with when you’re on the outside looking in. I have made a life-long commitment to managing my disease carefully, as it is no different than heart disease or diabetes or blood pressure. It will always need my attention.

Some of you might wonder why I have decided to go public. I was recently offered the opportunity to “tell” my testimony in church yesterday, on Easter Sunday, in cardboard form. I took that opportunity to tell how God has redeemed my life and traded ashes for beauty. Doing so inspired me to go all the way, beyond sharing with pass-in-the-hallway friends, acquaintances and total strangers—all the way to sharing it with everyone I know, especially those I claim to love and know well.
Also, I desperately want to dispel the misconceptions surrounding this disease. Having or being bipolar doesn’t mean I am violent, suicidal, depressed, or crazy. What it does mean is that I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that causes more frequent mood fluctuations (because mine is rapid cycle…there are other types) and more exaggerated shifts than “normal” people. “Highs” are not necessarily extreme and uncontrollable happiness. Mine are defined by agitation and increased irritability, and a high level of productivity. My “lows” are not characterized by depression, but rather quietness, seclusion and clinginess to those I love, especially John.

Furthermore, I am personally free from the stigma attached to bipolar because I know God intends to use my experience with bipolar to help others. Otherwise, He would have physically healed my body from it. Proving this point, He already is using me. My openness about my disease with the few I have shared it with one-on-one is giving strength to others and giving others the insight that they are not alone. All of this disarms the enemy. God has made it possible for me to have potentially difficult conversations with other women who need encouragement for a variety of reasons.

Left untreated, bipolar, depression and severe anxiety will destroy lives. What it doesn’t destroy, it will cripple. Satan has a field day in the minds of those plagued with these diseases. He wants nothing more to destroy and I know, because it almost took my marriage and everything else I hold dear.
If you’re reading this, you likely either know someone who needs help or you need help yourself. If it’s you that can identify with anything I have said, I want to encourage you to find a professional. Insist on the best of care for yourself. Enlist the help of someone you love and trust intimately to walk this road with you. Do not allow mental illness of any sort to rob you or anyone you love from living a full life. If none of this describes you in any way, then please, please, please pass this along to anyone you think needs to read it. If it’s not for you, my story can be a great conversation starter between you and someone you care about.

Finally, I need to thank some people, without whom I would never be able to share my story.

To my closest friends and family, thank you, thank you, thank you! From the bottom of my heart I thank you for loving me every step of the way, even today and tomorrow, for the constant encouragement and for never letting me feel judged. Most especially, John, Lindsey, Terri and the rest of “my girls.”

To my “everyone else,” those who didn’t know, or may have only known part of the whole story, thank you for your patience, for loving me through what you didn’t even know, and for loving me even now as you learn the whole truth.

Most of all, I thank You, my precious LORD, for loving me, for saving me, for healing me and now for using me. “…My lips overflow with praise” (Ps. 119:171) and I love you with all my heart (Deut 10:12).

Sincerely,
Stephanie Norsworthy

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www.myjourneytofreedom-stephanie.blogspot.com
jsnorsworthy@yahoo.com

PS If you have never seen a cardboard testimony, a quick search on YouTube will yield multiple results and give you a good idea of what 25 of us did in our church yesterday. The music we used was “Beautiful Things” by Gungor, and my card read: (side 1) BIPOLAR (side 2) Healthy and Whole in Christ. I believe a video was made, so hopefully I will be able to share that soon as well.

My Spiritual Bucket

"Vessel" is defined by Webster's Dictionary as "a container for holding something." Sounds simple enough, right?

There are multiple examples of vessels in the Bible, both spiritual and literal, so let's reflect on two.

First I'd like to point you to the Book of Matthew. In Chapter 26 we are told the story of the anointing of Jesus at Bethany... "a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. 8 When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. 9 “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” 10 Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. 11 The poor you will always have with you,[a] but you will not always have me. 12 When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. 13 Truly I tell you, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Oh, what I would give to know what this vessel looked like! This precious jar used to dispense perfume over the head of Christ must have been beautiful, no matter how plain it likely was.

Next, lets move to the woman at the well. We could delve deep into this scripture (John 4) and discover more about Jesus as the spiritual vessel here (because He is truly the vessel for our God, the Living Water), but I want to keep this simple. This woman most likely walked for miles to that well, in intense heat, to fill her clay jar with water, and would then return to her village to deliver this life-sustaining and thirst-quenching water to her household.

Now, jump with me back to our definition. If I may, I'd like to embelish Webster's definition. A vessel is not simply a container; it is also a necessary tool for delivery from one point to another.

If that treasured and highly valued jar of perfume had been cracked, the perfume would have never made it across the room to the head of our Savior, Jesus Christ. It would have been grossly wasted on the dirt floor.

Further, no woman in any third world country around the world would carry a hole-ridden cistern or vessel to the well near her village. Surely, after walking the many difficult miles from the well, the precious water would be gone before she ever returned home.

Do you know, friends, that you yourself are a vessel? God has anointed you in this life to hold His Holy Spirit. Even more, He has anointed you to deliver Him to others around you. Just like these tangible vessels, though, you too can be broken. Cracked. Incomplete. And thus, an ineffective tool for containment and delivery.

The beauty in this ugliness, though, is that a damaged or forsaken, unattended to vessel can be repaired and redeemed and restored (praise God!).

I am painfully, and thankfully, aware of the hole in my own spiritual bucket. I have given a great deal of thought to this perforation in my spirit lately, and I have struggled to understand what has caused it, and thus, how to permanently patch it up.

It was in church on Sunday, April 17, 2011 that the pieces finally came together.

Brett spoke extensively about God as an artist, the perfect creator of all things beautiful. He told us how God passed the paint brush on to creation (for me personally, this was my flute and my music, so I related deeply to his artistic reference), and that because of all this, we crave beauty and perfection. And then it clicked. The light came on.

I suddenly realized that my music as a young child was more than a "gift" God had bestowed on me. It was more than a talent he gave me to escape the emotional emptiness of my childhood. Before I ever knew I could have a personal relationship with Christ, He was seeking relationship with me through the music I spent so many hours practicing daily. Beauty. Perfection. It was what I craved desperately. All for a deeper connection to Him, and I had no idea. How amazing is that? He put the paintbrush in my hand so I could know Him better.

God still uses music to reach deep into my soul today. Though I haven't played in several years now, God has of course found a way. Intense harmony, a perfectly tuned chord, complex rhythms...it is all evidence of God stirring His spirit within me and drawing me to connect with Him. It is because of my heightened sensitivity to God in the music I hear that I am so easily touched by what I hear. How beautiful that God would reach out to me and spend time with me in this way.

I am a vessel for God and within me I carry His Spirit, His word, and His love for His people. If I have an unrepaired, gaping hole...a missing spiritual element, then I will not be an effective container, or an effective method of delivery. How can I take Him to others if I am broken? The painful truth is that I can't. I will waste Him on the perverbial dirt floor.

My extraordinary passion for music, even as a young child, reminds me that I am designed by God to crave Him. To be an effective holy vessel for God, I must place a permanent plug in this hole by seeking deep and lasting relationship with Him. No temporary fixes will do! Not food. Not Facebook. Not texting. Not my husband. Not my kids. Not my activities. Nothing but God can permanently plug this hole, and for me, that means deep, significant relationship with the Father who created all things and designed me to crave Him.

Up on the Mountain

Let's be honest, friends; in this campaign through food addiction to cherished freedom, sometimes it's not so easy to keep going. I often find myself in the heat of that lustful craving, and I just can't take another step; I give into my flesh by indulging that physical longing with something delicious, and yet sadly temporary.



I've been knee-deep, waist-deep and in over my head on this pilgrimage since September 2010. Yet, somehow I am able to move through challenges, successes and failures and back, with fresh focus and commitment daily.


How, though? How have I not caved under the sheer exhaustion of this trek across the desert?


I am presently in a leg of my journey that offers me a rare and beautiful treasure: clarity. Sweet friends, I am on the mountaintop! I am experiencing precious freedom and Goliath-sized growth--my food is comfortably under control, I haven't binged in nearly a week now, and I am getting physically stronger everyday.


Seasons like THIS are precisely why I have been able to pick my hurting- and sometimes broken-self off the ground and put one bruised foot in front of the other for seven excruciating long months.


In the crispness of this clarity on the mountaintop, I have power greater than my own, strength I cannot understand and endurance beyond comprehension. Here, life is simple and uncomplicated. Choices are easy. Cravings are joyfully satisfied with relationship with God. Keeping my vow to God to be healthy and exercise daily requires little effort.


Unfortunately, I cannot live on the mountaintop anymore than Jesus could. And neither can you. Because of God's great love for us, we are called to descend the mountain and live in the valleys. It is there that God requires us to apply the strength and endurance we were given in that freedom-experience called the mountaintop, and grow.


The good news? A valley rests between two mountains! So no matter how hard life in the valley may be, your next mountain of sweet relief isn't far away. And while you're there, stand tall. Soak in the panoramic view. Catch your breath. Revel in the exhilaration. Bask in the glorious uninterrupted sunshine. Most of all, sisters, be ready to descend the mountain and live the life God has called you to.

Stepping Stones

Earlier this evening while sitting near the indoor pool at our hotel in Birmingham, listening to my children swim and play, I took close notice of the floor surrounding the pool...as most moms would, I suppose. It's a beautiful, lavish floor, with genuine stones brought flawlessly together, despite their vast differences in shape and size, texture and color.

Being the thinker that I am, this floor reminds me immediately of the path I am on, my journey to freedom. Each stone is unique. I could walk the circumference of the pool a dozen times and never take the same path twice.

The only part that matters though, is that one stone always, without fail, leads to the next stone. At no point in walking toward the exit, or the pool, or the showers, will I run out of stones before I reach my destination.

Isn't that a beautiful metaphor for our journey to freedom? ...paved with a variety of challenges and victories...one victory, no matter how big or small, always leads somewhere...one challenge will inevitably lead me to another, unpredictable place...losses of varying magnitude are sprinkled among the stones.

And yet, what is certain is that freedom awaits on the other side. And ladies, behind us will be an unimaginable, unmatched and priceless work of a lifetime...an imperfect, yet perfect, unfathomable gift from God.

Weakness

This world, belonging to the evil one, has trained and conditioned us to believe we can do anything. We as women are completely indoctrinated to this philosophy that tells us if we depend on anyone else or anything else or show any sign of vulnerability, neediness or weakness, that we are a failure. A gigantic, useless, messy failure. Thankfully, God's word tells us something different! In 2Corinthians 12: 9-10, Paul clearly states: But he [God] said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” ...For when I am weak, then I am strong. I read this verse while hauling my butt across the conveyor belt of my treadmill this morning, and was immediately struck by the word "weak." I wanted so badly to jump off my treadmill and go straight to my dictionary and define that word (Webster's Dictionary is surprisingly my preferred tool for Bible study). I waited till my walk was done, however; what I found was NOT disappointing. Of the many definitions for the word, three especially stood out to me. First, the primary definition: lacking strength or vigor: FEEBLE. I can honestly say I have never been encouraged to take a feeble stance in this life of mine. Have you? And yet, it's this position that makes God's power available to us. The next definition that got my attention was number eight: not having or exerting authority. If we are exerting authority over our own lives in any way, how then can God exert His supreme authority? Finally, the fourth definition: not supported by truth or logic. We cannot declare the false truths of this world as our guide. We must define ourselves as ultimately incapable of navigating through this life with anything but God's truth as our compass. To further explore this scripture, I found the definition of perfect (brace yourself): being without fault or defect, exact, precise, lacking in no essential detail: COMPLETE. What this tells us is that only when and not until I take a lesser position, release authority over my own life and embrace God as my one true compass that I will truly be strong. Only then will God's power be perfect in me...and the same is true for you. So today, friends...sisters, let's let go of the lies that we've both been fed, the lies that have held us down and kept us trapped in a false and deceptive sense of power. Instead, let's admit and finally acknowledge that we are not indestructable or invincible. We are not all-powerful or able to do anything. We are weak. Today, embrace your weakness. Acknowledge your deficit and see for yourself if God shows up to fill in the essential details you lack. Today, let God complete you.

More than Just Me

As many of you know, I've recently begun meeting with a great group of ladies to work through the study Made to Crave, by Lysa Terkeurst. While completing my work for today, I had an epiphany I believe will be critical to my success (and hopefully for you as well): it ain't all about me! YIKES!

Here's what I mean... I've had a whole menu of reasons in the past for why I want to lose weight...the top of my list would have previously looked like this (btw, I'm praying yours is similar or else I'm going to be terribly embarassed!): 1. cuter clothes 2. smaller clothes 3. fewer fat dimples 4. a smaller number on the scale...somewhere on down the list you might have seen "increased overall health."

Now, these reasons are (of course) still on my list, but the order has definitely shifted for the better. My health is at the top of the list, followed VERY closely by those other, less righteous reasons. At the tip-top of my most recent list though has been my freedom. The one word there that jumps off the screen at me is MY.

And there you have it. My selfishness. My it's-all-about-me-attitude and approach to life. Yuck.

The question I read that birthed this ugly insight read like this : is my motivation strong enough to help me resist my unhealthy eating? So, I recognized the fact that my current motivation is not fully working for me. It's not quite strong enough to help me resist the temptations I face daily. And that motivation is MY freedom (cringe). This logically begs the question, then what IS a strong enough motivation? The only thing that makes it all not about me. The only thing that makes it about something bigger. God's glory.

Girls, desiring to be a smaller size and have fewer cottage cheese dimples just isn't gonna get it done. Surprisingly, neither is having freedom as your goal. But, setting God's glory as your priority...now that's where it's at. God's glory IS big enough. It's strong enough. It's lasting and true. When we set God's glory as our sole purpose in this battle being waged against our souls, our freedom is going to be the natural by-product.

I'm telling you, this just makes me want to do some push-ups for Jesus! In fact, I think I will.

"To him be the glory both now and forever! Amen." 2 Peter 3:18b