Guest post by Stormie J.
I have been in contact with several people who are struggling lately. The severity seems to range anywhere from “there must be more to life” to “I am done with life.” I have genuine compassion for this state of mind, body and spirit as one who wrestled with self-worth to the tune of purposefully endangering myself in my teens and also battling addiction into my early thirties.
What is my purpose?
My way up and out of it, although incremental, was quite miraculous and yet it does not fit nor necessarily work for others. One dear friend of mine has tried nearly “everything” and still her relief has been minimal and fleeting. Whether the cause is addiction, chemical imbalance, unrequited love, co-dependency, aging or something else, there seems to be no way around these common threads–loss of inspiration and purpose, lack of self-worth and bone crushing loneliness. Any one of these is a tremendous burden yet once their collective weight bares down on one’s soul, it can get bleak fairly quickly.
It only adds fuel to the fire when the very things that COULD be done to improve the condition are undesirable. The malady itself makes that so. No one seems to show up at an isolators anonymous meeting! Go figure. I understand.
Sixteen-ish years ago, I was under the covers in the pre-natal position one windy day. I hate wind, but then again, on that day I hated everything! The ringer on the phone was silenced and the blinds were closed tight so that my room was as dark as my outlook on life. I had been on work release for several weeks due to a flare up of a central nervous system disorder which made it impossible to use my right arm and caused considerable pain. (It’s kind of a downer when you can’t wipe your own butt.)
The Power of Prayer
I had been in recovery for nearly five years at this point, but was still prone to periodic depression. As I lay there immobilized by the panic, the idea struck me that so many others, like me, were hurting too. Obviously, that’s not an original thought; I had been listening in meetings after all. That stream of thinking continued to tug on my heart. After further pondering, I realized I was uniquely qualified to understand their situation, perhaps I could pray for their well-being. I might “kinda know what I was talkin’ ‘bout.”
I would like to share that I got down on my knees, but I honestly don’t remember and that might be a stretch, but what happened inside of me could only be described as electric in nature. Precisely as current flows to and through wiring when it is correctly hooked up, praying for others instantly connected me to God and others. The circuit was complete!! Simultaneously, I regained a small measure of inspiration and purpose. Self-worth followed closely behind as my loneliness slipped away. Before I knew it, I was on my way to a meeting and had arranged to visit a friend in the hospital. I was out of the dank hole!!!
I have since had fleeting moments of self-pity and very rare dark thoughts, but I have always drawn upon the experience of that day when a simple spiritual practice awakened me. Believe me, I mean ultra-simple! I was not required to even get out from underneath my cuddly blankets. The spiritual truth that GIVING IS RECEIVING was demonstrated for me that day. I was smitten by the concept that “nobody cares” and frozen to the possibility of reaching out lest I be proven correct and yet……once I practiced a caring act for another, the light crept in.
My feelings need not separate me from the purpose God intends for me. Nowadays when I feel like “no-one really gives a crap about li’l ol’ me” or “what’s the use anyhow,” I take my pouty upper lip to a meeting or call someone else in recovery! Some kind action with no expectation of reciprocation nor hope of recognition is necessary. In my darkest hours, it is through selfless service to another that I am made whole again and for that I am eternally grateful.
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