DarkWalker
Member
I was born into a Christian family with a loving mother and father. By all accounts, I was given every advantage, even in light of the fact I was born with a disability. My ailment was--according to the doctors--one that would bind me to a wheelchair for life, and reduce my mental capacity to that of a three-year old. I remained blissfully ignorant of my difference for the first years of my life, but eventually came to resent the gift God had given me. It was not until I was twelve years old that I began to see this thorn in my flesh as the motivation I required to do God's will. Now at twenty-nine, I am still not certain I have fully grasped the wondrous opportunities my disability affords me.
From the time I entered first grade to the time I left public school in ninth grade, I was harassed relentlessly by my peers (at school and church) for my faith, my disability, and--sadly--for my lamentable attitude. While speaking God's name out of one side of my mouth, I cursed my peers with the other side. For this, I was subjected to retaliation that ultimately led to post-traumatic stress disorder. It also led me to hostile intent toward my peers, resulting in a knock on the door from the Sheriff's Office and a consequential appointment with a mental health professional.
I had been placed on a medication for ADD at the age of ten, which is when I gained firsthand experience with homicidal and suicidal ideations. An ideation is different from intent; it is an image your brain produces, leaving you to decide what you should do with it. I did not recognize these ideations for what they were at the time. When I was diagnosed by the mental health professional with atypical depression, I was placed on a medication that gave me suicidal ideations and emotions.
These misdiagnoses--ADD and atypical depression--were not diagnosed properly as bipolar disorder until earlier this year. Since then, I have also discovered I suffer from executive function disorder, which is a learning disability that hinders my organizational skills and my ability to apply previous experience to current situations. In other words, I was the child who had to touch the stove several times to discover it was hot, not because I was (or am) stupid, but because I consistently forget.
My testimony could be much longer, detailing the times I have been in and out of the hospital, my stay at the mental hospital, my emotional breakdowns, and other events that have helped to shape me, but it should suffice for me to sum up what I have learned by borrowing this quote from the film Amazing Grace:
“Although my memory's fading, I remember two things very clearly: I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior.”
From the time I entered first grade to the time I left public school in ninth grade, I was harassed relentlessly by my peers (at school and church) for my faith, my disability, and--sadly--for my lamentable attitude. While speaking God's name out of one side of my mouth, I cursed my peers with the other side. For this, I was subjected to retaliation that ultimately led to post-traumatic stress disorder. It also led me to hostile intent toward my peers, resulting in a knock on the door from the Sheriff's Office and a consequential appointment with a mental health professional.
I had been placed on a medication for ADD at the age of ten, which is when I gained firsthand experience with homicidal and suicidal ideations. An ideation is different from intent; it is an image your brain produces, leaving you to decide what you should do with it. I did not recognize these ideations for what they were at the time. When I was diagnosed by the mental health professional with atypical depression, I was placed on a medication that gave me suicidal ideations and emotions.
These misdiagnoses--ADD and atypical depression--were not diagnosed properly as bipolar disorder until earlier this year. Since then, I have also discovered I suffer from executive function disorder, which is a learning disability that hinders my organizational skills and my ability to apply previous experience to current situations. In other words, I was the child who had to touch the stove several times to discover it was hot, not because I was (or am) stupid, but because I consistently forget.
My testimony could be much longer, detailing the times I have been in and out of the hospital, my stay at the mental hospital, my emotional breakdowns, and other events that have helped to shape me, but it should suffice for me to sum up what I have learned by borrowing this quote from the film Amazing Grace:
“Although my memory's fading, I remember two things very clearly: I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Savior.”
