There is not always a light at the end of the tunnel
There’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.
That was the well meaning advice I have been given as I experienced dark times following an accident twelve and a half years ago.
Being in a dark place wasn’t my choosing, I did not think, “I’ve been prety much pain free, I’ll have some pain now.” If you are in a tunnel just keep going there are too ends to a tunnel. But it was never like that for me, it was like waking up in a cave, with no light and no idea which way was out. Every time I found a glimmer of light at the mouth of the cave the tide came in. I was stuck.
Hello darkness my old friend
Darkness became my old friend. (Hello). But against the advice my friends were giving me I found Jesus again in the darkness. I learnt to trust Jesus in the bad times as well as the good. I learned that I can comlain to God in my pain and he hears, even though other christians tell me not to. I became Job, from the book of the same name.
At the time of the accident I also started writing this blog, though the blogging platform has changed 3 times and the first six years blogs have dissapeared into some virtual black hole. The early blogs were positive, I was making good progress from the accident and I was on prescribed opiates.
A year in I was almost recovered from the accident effects and the arthritis started to kick in. I stopped getting physically better and psycologically was not good, I was still having nightmares. Things became dark.
Six years in: I got sacked, I had a meltdown at work, and as a consequence got psychiatric help. I was given a referral for diagnosis for asperger’s syndrome, but got a letter from the health authority which said there was no funding for out of area diagnosis. I was feeling low, then got the “You are not worth it” letter. Devastating.
Another three years, and I was getting very tired. Fatigue is not something you have the energy to fight. This time, after a lot of waiting (Have you ever wondered why they cll us patients? We have to br patient) I got to be diadnosed as diabetic.
It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me…
Now it is a year after I gave up working. In that time I have hade time to think. It has given me time to come to terms with what it means to be autistic and I have become comfortable with a relationship with Christ in the dark places in my life.
But since Easter this year I have been getting nagged by God that the dark places in my life are meybe not the best place to stay, that my dark night ought to end. In a way I’ve been lucky, many who go through similar experiences have dark times which last much longer. For me it has been a time of change, when I was last in a happy place I was able bodies, not diabetic and had litte idea of what Asperger’s was, people though me a little weird and wondered at my leaps in logic. I come out of this with more knowledge of who I am, I do not have to pretend I am someone else to fit in to society, I can face the world, and God, unmasked. Here I am, this is me…
4 thoughts on “Giving up my hold on darkness”
I have had two replies on Facebook, who have given me permission to copy their replies here: Thank you both for replying and giving premission.
This is the first.
Oh what a wonderful blog to read! You give me so much hope and inspiration for the journey we may have ahead for H. Wouldn’t have you any other way Mr, God bless you xx
I have had two replies on Facebook, who have given me permission to copy their replies here: Thank you both for replying and giving permission.
This is the Second.
Great blog Steven, it mirrors my own struggles. One of the reasons I stand up in front of the congregation and share what’s happening in my life is to counteract that tendency in the church towards not acknowledging pain and suffering amongst its own. I don’t like doing it and it makes me feel vulnerable but it’s so important when we talk about ‘the sick’ and ‘the poor’ that we acknowledge we are also talking about ourselves, not some disparate group out there somewhere. I can relate to the ‘cave’ description. I lived in the ‘cave’ for nearly twenty years after a breakdown, I said ‘God, I’m too afraid to step outside’, he said ‘You don’t have to, I’ll come in and be with you’ and that’s how it was until I looked up one day and the walls of the cave had crumbled. Also I liken it to a cocoon, you are encased inside a pod where unseen transformation is taking place. You emerge in a different form, better than before, more beautiful and somehow more ‘you’.
Pingback: The combination of bowed instruments and Celtic melody. – Making an ass of myself
Pingback: Lottie Lot and looking back – Making an ass of myself