take comfort in identity

One of the funniest things about journaling is the process of looking back & seeing how I’ve grown. The start of college, and how I’ve grown since then, has been a clear starting point of change. As I’ve mentioned in my previous post, I’ve grown & struggled through the past year while balancing following Him and embarking on a path to healing.Perhaps the biggest of changes that I’ve noticed is my self presentation. Experiencing mental illness for the first time has left me with the unusual inability to truly describe myself as I once have.

In the past I would describe myself as introspective, emotional, maternal and optimistic. But now? I struggle to know my own emotions, so introspective is gone. Emotional? Oh yes, that’s stayed, but now seems well beyond my control. I am so concerned with my own hurt that I struggle to offer comfort to friends & family, so my maternal instincts are rusty at best. And optimistic? Hello depression.

So now I’m left with this odd habit of disassociating my current personality with what I’ve been for the past nineteen years of my life. This basically looks like a lot of, “I’m sorry! I’m not normally like this!”

Mental illness has also reshaped how I identify my days. I’ve gotten good at judging which days will be “good” or “bad” the moment I awake. I define myself through what level of productivity I experience in a day.

So according to all my convoluted systems of judging my own performance, yesterday was a good day! I went to both my classes, remembered to eat regular meals, walked over two miles in a sundress, enjoyed a sunset, studied in a coffee shop alone for three hours, talked to an old friend & cleaned my dishes. But sometimes the littlest things can turn the intended good into an unpredictable spiral. It was a good day, until I decided to do laundry.

I have seriously been needing to do laundry. For a while. So I lugged a laundry basket up a flight of stairs & set my mind to finishing within two hours. Well, those two hours turned into seven, a broken dryer and a fair deal of frustrated tears.

I began to weigh a simple mistake (overloading the washer) and something I could not control (a broken dryer) more than an entire day of hark work & growth. I behaved irrationally & emotionally.

I thought I needed comfort. Instead someone told me, “Emma. I love you but you’re being irrational.” They continued on to say something that made me realize that the Lord was speaking straight through them.

“This isn’t you.”

All too often I define myself through my accomplishments or personality. And those are valid ways in which I can relate to others & make my intentions known. But they are not my ultimate identity!

I am not my mental illness. I am not my to-do list for the day. I am not my emotional state. 

I am a child of Christ. I am redeemed & set free. That is my ultimate identity. Failing to meditate upon this does nothing but hurt me. It forces me to take steps back on my healing process. It leads to co-dependency & pain to those around me. It limits my witness, places a strain on my trust in my Father and is a result of lies that the enemy feeds me.

I am thankful for the people in my life who remind me of who I am truly am. You know who you are.

“We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.” Romans 15: 1- 2 

So hello there, my name is Emma. I am loved, redeemed and set free. I am healing & broken. I place my weakness at His feet & draw close. I am His child and He has called me His.