choosing a title.

Its funny in a strange old kind of way to sit and ponder a title for a blog.  What fits?  What makes sense?  How will it relate?  Today I sat and pondered my title.  Often I choose a title that gives the game away as to what the content will be.  But today, today I really cant think of one.   So I dont really have one.

If I did have one, and I am only saying IF then it could be  "Here we go again" or Onward Christian soldiers or as we say here in Ireland "Wise the head".  

So for those here who know me and have been wondering at the flurry of weird stetements coming from me recently I thought I would be as brave as our Shani and let you know where I am.

I have Clinical Depression and PTSD .  The depression from things,  but the PTSD from stuff that happened growing up in a country at war.  I witnessed murder, I witnessed ambushes.  I saw way too much for a child to see.  Then at one stage in the past five years I had to face the possible death of all my kids through illness, severe accident and a hold up at gun point where the guy was high as a kite.  So all of that has made me bat crazy. 

I remember sitting on the floor in the living room in March when I was diagnosed and just crying.  I dont really do the crying thing too often.  It never helped and I cant be doing with things that dont help.  Now though I find myself with tears streaming silently down my face at the most strangest of times.  When I am shopping, when I am paying for things, when I am sleeping, when I am working.  To the outside world I seem to have developed severe allergies all of a sudden.  I dont know why im crying silently but I am.

I felt terribly lonely and I felt a fraud.  Here was I, a semi-accomplished woman who ministers to other women and i couldnt even make a cup of tea without breaking down.  where was my witness and my faith?  I felt and feel very little. 

So one night at our ladies meeting we had a guest speaker.  She spoke on mental health and was so open and honest and lovely that I plucked up the courage to go and talk to her afterwards.  How strange it was because I had ministered at her church. She saw me as a short chubby confident woman of God.  Now she knows I am grumpy, childish, quite opinionated, bullish and terrified. 

But I can pray when she is around.  She calms me simply by being there.  Yet she doesnt even know it.  I can sit with her and not speak and I need no more at this moment in time.  God uses her for His Glory and her and my good even in the middle of her own storm.  i do owe her an apology for I  behaved badly yesterday and chose not to take my medication on purpose.  I became volatile , whingy and she never once told me to buzz off. For that I am sorry. .Like properly sorry, not an apology sorry but a real gut sick sorry.  Lesson learned until the next time. 

I can say all this because my blogs are set to private and only you on Cb can see them. 

So where am i now?  well apart from sitting here in work writing away I am embarking on a road of recovery. Counselling beckons on monday morning. Not sure how that will go for when the woman phoned me last night to set the appointment I couldnt even talk to her without feeling sick and sweating. 

Maybe my blog title should be HOLDING ON.  But then Im not holding on, I am being carried. 

This is not a blog of self pity. Just letting my family here know what is going on. 

Coffee beckons.