I recently watched the movie “The Way Back.” A man struggling with alcoholism gets an opportunity to coach a boy’s basketball team, leading him on a path of recovery and healing.
The first part would have you believe that his addiction ruined his life, but as the story unfolds, you learn that one year prior, his 10-year-old son died of cancer.
“No wonder he’s drinking like he is,” I said to myself, my initial judgment switching to empathy.
First impressions are usually the tip of the iceberg. Our hurts, hang-ups, and baggage are what floats beneath the surface. There is a reason people are the way they are.
It’s unrealistic for us to get to know everyone’s story, but there is a way to incorporate empathy for others. Want to know how?
By asking the question, “what if?”
The next time you find yourself having an opinion about someone (we all do), ask yourself some questions:
What if her husband died in a car accident?
What if their dad used to beat them?
What if he was recently diagnosed with stage 4 cancer?
You get it, right?
Do you have any thoughts on what might help increase empathy towards others?
This week I’ve decided to write some fun facts about myself.
My First Job: Boston Market (I eventually got fired).
Worst Habit: Nail biting
A Movie I’ve Watched a Gazillion Times: Coyote Ugly (I owned the VHS, and when I moved from NY to CA, it provided comfort. Don’t judge me).
My Superpower Would Be: reading minds
Embarrassing Moment (one of many): While attending a party at Chuck E Cheese, a woman approached me as I piled food onto my plate. Long story short, I was at the wrong party.
My Latest Addiction: TikTok
I Would Love To Meet: Joyce Meyer. She has helped me improve my thought life while encouraging me not to live by my feelings. What a game-changer!
Something I’m Proud Of: Throwing a surprise 25th-anniversary party for my parents.
Favorite Comfort Food: Pasta
Greatest Struggle: Mental health
I Can’t Stand The Sound Of: Fingernails on a chalkboard
My Dream Job(s): Speaking, Writing, Coaching
Growing Up I Wanted To Be A: Singer/Actress
My Favorite Job: Working in a group home for mentally ill adults.
Piercings? Used to have navel, nose, and tongue.
Fear: Not being the mom I’ve been called to be.
Best Decision Ever Made: Surrendering my life to God.
This was first my experience with a Psychiatrist. I didn’t appreciate his frankness and besides that, he was wrong.
Years passed, and once again I found myself in a Psychiatrist’s office, but this time it was a different doctor. “You are bipolar,” he told me.
“Crap!”
Growing up I struggled with depression, anxiety, and anger. These three symptoms were besties. One was never present without the other, although much of the time one would lead the rest.
I knew I had issues but an official diagnosis freaked me out. I was now willing to hear it but accepting it was a whole different thing.
The doctor suggested medication, but I wasn’t ready. I was already self-medicating with my dear friends: drugs and alcohol. They had been around a long time.
I knew I had issues
It got to a point where my coping methods started working against me, taking my mental health to even more extreme highs and lows, so I chose to get clean and sober.
I no longer had my friends to console me and needed another way to manage my symptoms, so I became open to the possibility of taking legit medication.
I didn’t want this diagnosis
I didn’t want to be labeled.
I had a specific idea of how people with mental health issues looked. What I had seen was extreme. I wasn’t like “them.” I was a functional part of society. This mindset kept me stagnant, floating in the river of denial.
I started attending support groups through DBSA (Depression Bipolar Support Alliance). I never knew how broad the spectrum of mental health was. It was at these groups that I began to release the stigma I had attached to mental health.
I didn’t want to be labeled
Fellow Christians would tell me stories about God healing them of their depression. I’d walk away thinking, why them and not me God?
I believed God was more than capable of healing me, but that’s not part of my story.
Once I started to accept that this was something I’d struggle with throughout my life, my attitude started to change. Instead of asking for this “thing” to be taken away, I started praying that he would use it for His glory.
He has.
As I started sharing my experiences, others shared theirs. If it wasn’t them who struggled it was usually someone close to them.
God put people in my path for me to support and encourage when I was a complete trainwreck, reminding me that even at my lowest, He can use me.
I can’t even begin to count the times He’s provided comfort to me in the midst of it all. Sometimes it was a text from a friend; other times it was a song playing on the radio. Although, nothing beats my all-time favorite comfort tactic like my tattoo (Ephesians 2:10).
Why them and not me, God?
The struggle and pain that comes with life are real. Knowing that there might be a greater purpose than what my eyes can see encourages me to keep moving forward.
Having bipolar doesn’t define me, even though it tries to convince me otherwise. When my thoughts start attaching to this idea, God gently reminds me “You are who I say you are, my beautiful daughter.”
God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4
If you are in need of some encouragement today, please listen to this song.
