Life’s Journey

Good Monday Morning 1-24-22

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Good Monday Morning.

My post is a little late again this week. I took advantage of having a day off and slept in. Well, first my dog woke me up at 4:00. I took her out and fed her then went back to bed. Even without my electric blanket, I slept until 9:00. Those extra hours of sleep were a luxury.

After I woke up the second time, I brewed a cup of coffee first before I sat down at the computer.

For a Christmas present, my kids gave me a coffeepot that has a 12-cup carafe on one side and a one-cup brewer on the other. I haven’t made coffee in the large carafe yet, because I only drink one cup at a time. But I love the fact that I don’t have to have a reservoir for the water, just pour in a cup of water at a time. And I also don’t have to use those expensive pods. I can use my own grounds.

My favorite cup of coffee is a blend of hazelnut and Mackinac Island fudge flavors. I ran out of the fudge flavor two months ago, so I’ve been drinking plain hazelnut blend as well as several flavored coffees that I received as Christmas gifts. I miss the hazelnut-fudge blend, though.

I’ve promised myself that the fudge-flavored coffee is my reward for meeting my writing goals.

Unfortunately, as of today, I haven’t yet met any of the goals that I had set for the first of the year.

So far in January, I’ve spent my time wading through the emotional waters of depression. I haven’t sunk beneath the waves yet, but I seem to be just muddling through my days.

I think part of the reason for the depression is the winter season which affects many of us. That goes alone with my worries about the winter weather and the thought of staying inside where it’s warm.

Another part of the reason for the lethargy, as I mentioned last week, is a poor diet and lack of exercise over the holidays. Also, I haven’t been putting as much focus on reading the Word of God as I have on reading my Kindle.

I am a work in progress, just like my writing.

My stories, like a good cup of coffee, have to brew first.

I start the writing process by thinking about the characters and forming a picture of them in my mind. How old are they? What are their strengths and weaknesses? Why are they attracted to one another?

I also form a picture of the setting. Where will the story take place? What time of year will it be?

I think up scenes and dialogue when I am working with my hands at tasks that don’t require much concentration.

Spiritual growth takes place in me as I write. My stories are woven with my faith. The threads of wisdom that I have learned through my own struggles helps me resolve the conflict that my characters face.

I am often moved emotionally throughout the writing process. Sometimes, I wrote an emotional scene with tears streaming down my face.

The goals that I set were to finish two novellas and prepare a story to submit to a contest. This week, I will work towards those goals as best as I am able.

That Mackinac Island Fudge coffee is waiting for me at the finish line.

Who is your Rock?

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Good Monday Morning.

Today I’m talking about rocks. Not the stones that you find on the ground. No, I’m talking about people who are strong, steady and dependable. The kind of person you can count on to be there to support you through the storms of life.

On the southern shore of Lake Superior in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula lie the Pictured Rocks. The name comes from the streaks of mineral stain on the sandstone cliffs. The rocks include unusual formations including a row of cliffs that are known as Battleship Row.

Years ago, we went on a cruise that took us around the Pictured Rocks shoreline. It was fascinating to me. I was reminded how amazing God’s creation is.

Despite many storms that crashed against their shores, the rocks had stood the test of time. They were strong and steady and created a natural beauty that drew attention to them.

Do you know anyone in your life who reminds you of these rocks?

There was someone very special to me who was like a rock in my life.

My late husband.

I’ve shared much of my story through my diagnosis of bipolar disorder to present-day management. I haven’t shared previously my husband’s role in it.

When I was first diagnosed, a coworker mentioned to my husband that his wife had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. “Keep her on her medication,” was that man’s advice.

My husband took it seriously. In the beginning, my copays for the various medications I was on cost over $200 a month. We could hardly afford them, but he made it a priority.

He never wavered in supporting me, either financially or emotionally, as I rediscovered my footing in life. Like the rock formations that stand on Lake Superior, my husband was strong and steady. I knew he could be counted on to take care of me.

So when he had a tragic work accident in 2010 and passed away, I remember mentioning to the hospital chaplain that Pat had been my rock and I didn’t know what I would do without him.

The chaplain told me, “Sometimes you have to become like a little rock.”

At the time, I didn’t think I would survive the loss. A big chunk of who I was died with my husband. I had to find my way as a single parent through the grieving process.

Fortunately, my husband had life insurance. Even in his death, he provided for me.

While I didn’t think I could move forward without him, step by step I grew more independent and stronger. I had an amazing support system in my family and friends, but I had to do the hard work of the grieving process on my own.

During that first winter without my husband, a very interesting event occurred. I had a CD playing in the kitchen. I looked through the window and saw a cardinal sitting in the branches of the bush outside.

At the same time as I saw the cardinal, a song played on my CD called, “These are the Words I would say” by Sidewalk Prophets.

Without quoting the song here, because I don’t know if that is allowed, I will say that the song felt like a message to me directly from my husband. You can follow along with the lyrics in the video link below.

The words, “God’s got his hand on you, so don’t live life in fear,” sound much like something my husband would say to me.

I’ve gained confidence in time in my ability to thrive in life, not just merely survive. Having the remembrance of my husband’s support of me has helped me through the rough times.

His unconditional love for me is the foundation for the books that I write.

And speaking of rocks:

Pat was my rock in life, but Jesus is my Rock, capital “R.” I can depend on Jesus to be the strong and steady presence as I go through life’s challenges.

In my stories, I like to write about characters who struggle with their faith and how they find healing in God’s grace and love that endures through time, much like those cliffs on Pictured Rocks. The storms might crash against them, but their love stands firm, like a rock, in the midst of it all.

New Year’s Wish 2017

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Good Monday morning to you.

My novella will be released in less than three weeks.

Since my novella is about a New Year’s wish, I went back through my journal to read entries that I’ve made in the past on New Year’s Eve.

One very significant entry I wrote down on December 31, 2017.

I’ve shared here about my challenges with depression and anxiety, and most recently the struggles I’ve gone through since being diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 2003.

The words in this journal entry, written at the end of 2017 and after another year of struggling, reflect on the ways God was changing me.

Today I share my journal entry as it was written.

Sunday December 31, 2017

I have a mental illness.

It is not demonic.

It is a chemical imbalance that is treatable with medications and cognitive therapy.

I firmly believe that God has brought Vicki (my counselor) into my life to strengthen my faith.

To set me in the right direction.

To help me heal from past insults, assaults and disappointments.

To help me realize that the teaching I have had regarding my mental illness has been faulty and has not helped me but hurt me psychologically.

I am free to begin again.

It is a new year starting tomorrow.

The journal entry continues with thoughts on 2018.

Don’t look back, you’re not going that way.

Philipians 2:12-14 reads:

12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

God has not given me a spirit of FEAR, but of POWER, of LOVE and of a SOUND MIND.

God will help me overcome the challenges in life:

Single parenting, even to adult children.

Isolation from the anxiety disorder.

Financial independence.

Diet/healthy choices for diabetes and other medical issues.

Medication changes for the bipolar.

Increasing my faith in His goodness.

My story–evangelism.

Overcoming my past.

Forgetting my past and moving forward.

God has plans for me: Plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me hope and a future.

Those were my New Year’s wishes on December 31, 2017.

In the years since then, God has met and exceeded my hopes in many of these areas.

My life is not perfect by any means, but I have more good days than bad. I used to have maybe three good days a month, now I might have maybe three bad days a month.

And even on a bad day, God has ways of reminding me of His goodness.

It isn’t a new year, but it’s a new day.

A new Monday.

The start of a new week.

I hope that You will trust God to meet your needs and bring you through whatever trials you are facing. With prayers that you will have an uplifting week.

The Storm inside my Brain

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

Good Monday Morning.

As I contemplated what to write about this week, this photo came up in my Facebook memories.

My niece Rachel created this drawing in an art class when she was a teenager. When I saw it, I asked if I could have a copy. She gave me the original.

(Warning: This is a long and emotional post.)

This artwork is a picture of what it feels like in my brain when I am battling depression and anxiety. I read a book once, “There’s a storm inside my brain.” Someone who has never experienced it themselves cannot fully understand.

Having navigated through the challenges the past 11 years have brought, since I lost my husband in a tragic work accident, I now live in a place of mental stability. But it’s been hard-won.

Sometimes, circumstances come up that set me back emotionally. Then the battle rages and I struggle.

I’ve been very candid about my journey out of depression and my bouts of anxiety. I feel that by being open and sharing how I have worked through it, that someone else might be helped. Maybe it won’t take them 8 years of counseling to work through their problems, and they will find healing quicker because of what I’ve shared about my own struggles.

Today I’m sharing another part of my journey.

My daughter was born in March 1993. At my yearly physical in October 1993, I cried in my PA’s office. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I believe now that I suffered from undiagnosed postpartum depression that never went away.

The next year was a blur as we lost my husband’s dad and my mom had health problems. I was overwhelmed with having two young kids. I took shots for birth control that made me gain weight and I was overall unhealthy.

In October 1994, I went back to the PA for my yearly checkup. I cried again. She said I was depressed and put me on Zoloft. She put me on three pills a day and recommended counseling. I found a Christian counselor but it was an hour from my house and I couldn’t make the appointments with two small children. The counselor said part of my problem was living in an old trailer with dark walls and I needed light.

In January 1995, I saw a medical doctor for for a routine appointment. He said I was on a high dose of Zoloft. Instead of cutting back the dose, I went against medical advice and cut it out.

Part of the reason for stopping my medication was that I’d asked for prayer for healing. The minister prayed that I would be delivered from the spirit of depression. I wrongly felt that if it were a spirit of depression, then when he prayed for me, I was healed. The pastor didn’t know I was on medication and may never have suggested I quit taking it, but I will never know, because that’s what I did.

We bought a doublewide that let lots of light in and I was good emotionally for a couple of years, before the pattern started all over again. Depression filtered through my life until I had more bad days per month than good.

During those years, I struggled to maintain the house and tried a variety of different jobs, unsuccessfully. I had health issues due to the weight gain and poor diet and lack of exercise.

In 2003, my life crash came crashing down. After a few traumatic weeks of slipping slowly, I suddenly spiraled into a state where my sense of reality was altered. Fortunately, I was committed to a mental hospital before I hurt myself or caused anyone else to get hurt.

I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

I was immediately put on medication and attended therapy sessions. When I was released a few days later, I didn’t feel confident about going home. However, I had the support of my husband, parents, in-laws and siblings. Together they formed a support network, helping with the kids and house and taking me to my appointments.

I started seeing a counselor who gave me very practical things to work on. Over the next few months, I worked with her as the medication began to take effect and work in my brain. A gain of 40 pounds in 9 months caused more physical health problems and a change in medication helped control that issue.

I vividly remember every detail of the virtual nightmare that caused me to be hospitalized. While it was a horrible experience for myself, my husband and my kids, it was a necessity to bring me to a point where I could find help.

Like I mentioned, that was in 2003. I began a many-years-long struggle to overcome the depression and anxiety that had marked my life up to that point. I had ups and downs, which is common with bipolar. I never quit going to the psychiatrist. I worked with a variety of counselors, getting some help here and there.

The psychiatrist tried different medications and several times a combination worked. Then I would think I was feeling better and drop one, only to have problems a few weeks or months later. Eventually, I learned to take the medications as prescribed, and found a sense of normalcy.

When my husband passed away suddenly in 2010, I thought I would fall apart. But somehow, by the grace of God and my network of support, I managed to carry on with life and take care of my kids.

But I was stuck in grief that turned into depression. I didn’t know how to change or move forward.

In 2013, God led me to the Christian counselor who literally changed my life. I’ve shared details about my journey through depression in previous blog posts, so I won’t go into that here.

I haven’t, however, admitted to the bipolar diagnosis prior to now to anyone besides family and a few friends.

I hope that you, as my faithful readers, will be understanding.

Maybe you have someone in your life that you can relate this to.

Or maybe some of you struggle with the chemical imbalance.

I freely admit that I am taking a blend of medications that keep me from spiraling again into mania or falling into depression. I don’t even want to think about where I would be today if I didn’t have the support of my siblings and aunts (My parents passed away in 2004 and 2005) who listened to my problems and took me to appointments. Or without the medication prescribed by the psychiatrist I’ve been going to since 2003, and in recent years, the Christian counselor.

I’ve heard that people with bipolar disorder often self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. As a teen, I did try a sip of beer one time and spit it into the sink. I also tried a couple of sips of a mixed drink one time and though it didn’t taste bad, the person I was with wouldn’t allow me more than two sips, as I was a minor. I’ll always be thankful for that.

Those few sips were the extent of my trying alcohol. Through God’s provision, I went away to a Christian college and stayed in the dorms. God protected me from getting into situations where my faith would be compromised. As a result of the Bible teaching and Christian fellowship, my faith became grounded.

I admit that in 2013, I was tempted to turn to alcohol when I faced the third anniversary of my husband’s death. I abstained from drinking. Instead, I ate a cake labeled, “Death by Chocolate” that raised my blood sugar. Shortly after that anniversary date, God led me to the Christian counselor who has changed my life through the way she shares God’s truth with me.

I now know that depression is not a spirit that can be prayed out of someone. I don’t know what the Biblical reference is for that belief. I do know that depression and bipolar disorder are chemical imbalances in the brain.

I read somewhere that a person can be predisposed to bipolar disorder and never experience it in life. But another person who is predisposed might have enough stresses in life to bring it out. That’s what happened to me. Many different problems outside my control collided and caused me to slip over the edge of reality and I suffered a mental breakdown.

Where was God in all of this?

Why didn’t He heal me?

Why did He allow me to break down in the first place?

Why did He allow all of those things into my life that caused the breakdown?

I can’t begin to answer all of those questions.

For me, the answers don’t matter.

I believe:

God is good all the time.

He created a perfect world. When sin entered into the world through the fall of Adam and Eve, it created problems in every area of life. Sickness and disease, even mental illness, are a result of the fallen world.

A Christian can have mental illness. It isn’t a spiritual problem. It isn’t a sin. It isn’t a condition that can be changed through prayer alone. If it were, I would not have dealt with it over and over again in my life.

However, I am a walking example of how God has brought healing into my life. With time, medication, a strong support system, a wise medical team and counseling that is retraining my brain to think positively about God and myself, I live most of my days with my mind at rest from the storms of bipolar.

That doesn’t mean I don’t struggle. I haven’t had a full-blown mania episode since that first one in 2003, although certain times of the year or circumstances might cause me to spiral a little. That’s where my support system, a tweak of my medication and additional counseling pull me back from the brink.

I don’t know what the future holds, what the challenges are that I will yet have to face. I do trust God with my future, however.

Phillipians 1:4-6 says:

In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.

A common saying when I was growing up was, “God’s not finished with me yet.”

I’m so thankful that He isn’t done renewing my mind with the truth of His word. Every time I rise to and defeat a challenge, my faith in God, and my confidence in myself, get stronger. He is a perfect God, and He has a plan for my future.

Welcome October

/ Carol Underhill / Leave a comment

I love the shift into cooler temperatures that ushers in the fall season. I’ve dug my sweaters and fuzzy socks out of storage.

Soon there will be bursts of color in the trees. I look forward to my drive to and from work as my own personal color tour.

I don’t have anything on the calendar this month except working at my housekeeping job. Working at the deli on the weekends was a nice idea, until it brought on too much stress for me. So now I’ll go back to focusing on my primary job. I’ll have more time for writing on the weekends.

When I’m not writing, I’m dreaming up dialogue and scenes for my current and future projects. It seems that when I am busy laboring with my hands, my mind works and new ideas form.

Last week while washing dishes by hand, I received the inspiration for a scene and dialogue in one of the novellas I’m working on. I thought the novella was just going to be a nice story, but God had plans to take it deeper.

Writing that scene gave the novella a spiritual anchor that I hadn’t envisioned.

A few years ago, a friend who read the first few Courage books asked:

“What was in the trunks?”

I’d written about the trunks in the attic without considering what was in them besides clothes from a time in the heroine’s life when she was the belle of the ball. I hadn’t planned to mention the trunks again. My friend thought there might be something mysterious in them.

Turns out, she was right.

Shortly after my friend asked the question, I was working at the deli and cleaning out the deep fryer. The answer to what was in the trunks slipped into my mind, and I got goosebumps. Suddenly, there was a new plot in the story, a mystery to solve. The fallout from that scene changed the direction of the story, adding something new that I had never considered before.

(Currently books 1 and 2 of the Courage series are available on Kindle. Book 3 is under “construction” to prepare it for a Kindle version. After Christmas, I’ll have book 4 available, which answers the question of what was in the trunk.)

Me at my writing desk–not writing lol.

I love it when God works like that in my writing, slipping in dialogue and expressing Biblical truths that add another dimension to the story. That’s one reason why I don’t stick to a writing schedule. I do sit down and work on my stories a little each day, but I don’t spend hours at the computer unless the words are really flowing.

I don’t do well writing with a deadline, but I’ve given myself a time frame to get the novella done. With only one job to focus on and my weekends free again, it should be easier to find time to write.

Or to make time, anyway.

I’ll start by setting a timer to write in thirty-minute blocks, which sometimes turns into longer periods at the computer. I’ll also make sure I write some every day. Since I’m a morning person, I won’t accomplish much in the afternoon or evenings.

I apologize for being vague about the novella I’m working on. As soon as it’s finished and I find a home for it, I’ll give you more details. I promise.

Autumn is a season of cooler temperatures, wonderful scents and vibrant colors. I hope it is a good season in your life. But no matter what season we are in, God is in it with us, providing everything we need to get through the challenges we might face.

And sometimes, He shows up in little ways that make significant changes in our lives. Like when He slips in dialogue when I am plotting scenes in my stories, and adds a spiritual layer to them that I hadn’t envisioned.

God is Good–All the Time.

Happy October.