A Light in the Darkness: Natalie Mohr's Testmony: Part 2

In case you missed it, here is the first part of Natalie's story...

Natalie Mohr is the author of "The Tale of the Lantern Lady," an allegorical short story about those who suffer from mental illness and the "angels" who bridge the gap between pain and positive change in their lives.

If you get a chance and are interested, please check out her short story. I had a chance to read it and it was so well-written and powerful. As I said yesterday, it is one of the most powerful short stories I have ever read. I cannot say enough about the story, so please check it out.

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A year before my last job attempt, I met my husband.  I tried teaching yet again, optimistically hoping I would be able to handle it with my new medications. During my first year of teaching and marriage, I got pregnant.  Medications during pregnancy are limited.  The same pattern of depression, triggered by stress reared its ugly head again.  I had to resign and went on short term disability.  It was during that time that my therapist, friends and family recommended that I apply for disability.  "No way," I thought. "How could I abandon my dreams?" But, I felt I couldn't continue to bear this pattern and now I had a new life on the way that would be dependent on me.  After much time, deliberation and prayer, I pursued it.  I was yet again at the point where I could not function. I didn't have the energy or desire to take a shower, fix myself food, or socialize with anyone.  Everyday tasks became overwhelming and felt impossible.

During my pregnancy, I was limited on medications I could take and again experienced irrational and suicidal thoughts.  Scary thoughts - like how I could manage to cut my baby out of my baby and save his life but end mine. Remembering that thought today sickens me. I experienced severe post partum depression. But, following the birth of my son, I decided it was in best interest of us both to bottle-feed and immediately restart  my medications. I managed to reemerge from the darkness within a couple of months. Eliminating the stress of a job enabled me to focus on being a mom.  I felt love on a level I had never imagined. When I looked into his big beautiful blue eyes, I saw a part of my soul staring back at me. I could no longer bear the thought of abandoning him through suicide. No matter how depressed I felt, he gave me a reason to keep on going.  I needed him as much as he needed me.  God had given us the gift of this little boy and he brought great joy into my life as I had never experienced it. I loved him with my whole being and would jump in front of a train to protect him. After a year of forms and appeals, I was able to get on Social Security Disability. It was an answer to prayers and God's way of financial provision. Even though I felt it was a way of giving up and "throwing in the towel," I later realized how much I needed it. It allowed me to focus my energy on being a Mom. It was by far the most challenging, yet rewarding job I had ever had. "God, is this Your purpose in my life?"

I wish I could say ". . . and we live happily ever after. The End." But, unfortunately, bi-polar disorder has no cure. My 13 year struggle with bi-polar disorder, anxiety and seasonal affective disorder has been a cyclical journey of ups and downs.  I have had many periods of joy and success, but the mental illness is still always there lurking in the shadows. At times, the depression has lead me to feel that my daily motherhood and household responsibilities were insurmountable.  I had to accept that my bi-polar symptoms are not shortcomings and are beyond my control. I had to own the responsibility of maintaining my mental health by taking proactive steps and making healthy choices.  I've had to alter my goals. It has been a challenge for me to understand that my illness does not define who I am.

Even in those dark moments, God has always found a way to let me know "I am not finished with you yet." Despite my failure to meet my expectations, I had a new sense of purpose and fulfillment.  At times, I felt that it made me understand the full meaning of true love between God and his son. 

Life was good until I got pregnant again. By then we were planning for it, I thought I had it all figured out.  Again, I had to discontinue my regular medication regimen but this time I was prepared with a list of medications I knew worked that were still approved for pregnancy. However, battling a raging hormonal imbalance on top of being put on bed rest at 18 weeks, I realized I still had no control over my mental illness. I became severely depressed. I was literally fighting an uphill battle to survive.

After the birth of my second son, I was anxious to return on my regular medication.  An unexpected change in health care providers with no advance notice sent me for a loop. I felt like I was balancing on a piece of dental floss. Thus began my mental healthcare nightmare.  I had to scramble in to see anyone who would take me, just to get refills on my prescription.  The only place that would take me at such short notice was a large mental healthcare facility. I had difficulty reaching anyone beyond an answering service and experienced unresponsiveness to my cries for help.

By this time, I was not sleeping and started having mania, something I had not experienced in years.  Lack of sleep is a trigger for instability. I knew I had to find someone to help me soon.  I found a psychiatrist that would take me in right away, but did not accept my insurance. The expense was a sacrifice I felt I had to make. He immediately took me off of one of the medications I had taken for seven years, insisting that it would send me into mania, even though it never had in the past.  As a result, I became severely depressed, had irrational thoughts, severe anxiety and panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and became completely incapacitated. I would look into the eyes of the child that once gave me a sense of purpose and would feel nothing. The smile of my beautiful baby did not even lift my spirits. I was completely numb. I could not function. I felt an extreme sense of guilt for the amount of help I needed to take care of myself and my two children. The new medications began to give me horrible side effects. I lost 25 pounds within a few months and was constantly nauseous. I was always nervous.  I could not handle conflict or stress of any kind. I started getting migraines every week from the tension. At one point, I began to have auditory hallucinations, something I had never experienced.  My condition was worsening. All of this while trying to be a mother to a newborn and a 4 year old. Instead of taking me off of the ineffective medications, the doctor's approach was to add more drugs to try to counteract the side-effects.  I was taking around 11 pills at a time and felt like a complete zombie.  I couldn't concentrate, I couldn't react the way I used to. I had difficulty forming sentences.  I tried to play piano pieces I had been able to play for over 15 years and it was as if I had completely forgotten how to play at all. I realized that if it were not for the support system of my husband and family, I would have certainly killed myself. "God help me," I prayed.  Many of my church friends reached out to me by bringing me meals and sending me letters of encouragement. Despite the hell I was living in and the burden I felt I was, God used those times to show me that He was taking care of my needs and had placed all of these special people in my life for a reason. I was blessed by their willingness to understand and to help. It was during this dark time, that I began to write. It was an outlet of comfort through which I could express my emotions.

God answered my prayer for help through a friend's referral to a new psychiatrist. He immediately put me on my old medications and took the approach that "If it isn't broken, don't try to fix it." Additionally, he used state of the art diagnostic tools. He ordered a DNA test to find out how my body broke down the enzymes and metabolized certain medications.  It indicated that in some drugs, the typical doses were either too strong or not enough. He adjusted them accordingly and I made a complete turn-around.

I know my battle is ongoing and will never completely end. But, I remind myself that through all of these struggles and challenges, God has always been with me. Even when I cannot feel His presence, He is still there, guiding my path, watching over me and providing for my needs.  His purpose for my life isn't defined by a singular event or circumstances, but is constantly changing as I grow from new experiences and struggles. When I come out of dark times, it is easier to remember the pain, my mistakes and failures rather than the recovery. Sometimes it has taken others to show me the light and lead me out of the tunnel of depression. But, all I have to do is open my Bible to remind myself that God loves me and created me just as I am. It is full of countless stories of "epic failures" who, despite their circumstances, God used to  fulfill His purpose. I have learned not to be so hard on myself. I have learned to eliminate stressors and negative people from my life. I have learned that, as difficult as it is, I must make it a priority to take care of myself so that I can take care of my children.  When I drop my baby off at preschool, he sometimes cries. I tell him, "Don't cry. Mommy will be back. Mommy always comes back." My relationship with God has been similar. I cry, wondering if He has left me, if He will rescue me from my times of suffering. But, He always comes to get me in the end, a shining beacon in my darkness.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

— John 1:5 (NIV)