PLEASE FORGIVE ME IF THIS IS IN THE WRONG CATEGORY (but I have already written what is below, so I may as well post it). Since you are a doctor/mental health councellor, and also looking at things from a spiritual standpoint, I felt compelled to write a bit of my story to you to see what you might feel about it).

I am wondering about how you might see things as in the case of very small children who exhibit symptoms of ‘mental illness’ and do not grow out of it — children so young and whom have not had abundant occasion to sin, much less suffer the consequences by way of illness of the mind as punishment.

I am speaking, frankly, of myself. I was raised in a loving family (which was not, of course, perfect — as nothing is perfect, we know) and brought up in the Christian faith (I attended a Chatholic school, learning the teachings of Christ). I did not develop a strong very ‘personal’ relationship with Jesus, but I did believe, in a sort of immature way (if that makes sense).

Anyhow, my point is that, for as LONG as I can remember, I have NEVER felt right. At the age of 7, I remember sitting on my teacher’s lap at the back of my class, crying my eyes out, yet not being able to tell her what was wrong (I only remember — and very clearly — feeling such a HORRID feeling in my very center…a lacking; insecurity; despair; depression; hopelessness: I can now call it these things, but back then I had NO words for what I was feeling. At other times, I would be sent to the principal’s office for not getting along with other children.

Typically, I was not ‘typical’. I was either very upset or crying (of course, this wasn’t ALL the time!). I’m not sure, but it may help to mention that I was of above average intelligence (according to my school marks, plus what teachers reported to my parents), having won academic achievement awards (scholarship and highest honours awards later on). Also, I have always been artistic, in lieu of all the arts: writing (my teachers praised my skills in this area, from childhood throughout college, and an aptitude test showed above average reading and writing skills); music (I received Honours/First Class Honours certificates at the Royal Conservatory); drawing (I received various awards — and even a job offer, at the age of 16, at a place of employment where art was not what I was there for). Understand I mention these to inform only (I do not mean to brag; I am not even making use of any of my talents…not since my teenage years — and, in fact, I have hardly made use of them throughout my life).

As I got a little older, but not much, I developed what some would call “social phobia”; it was horrible and separated me even more from everything and everyone (it subsided somewhat in my 20s but never really completely resolved itself). But all throughout elementary school, I could not maintain friendships because of my PHENOMENALLY LOW feelings. And I vividly remember sitting in class, looking around at everyone else and thinking: How do they do it? How do they just sit and talk and ‘be themselves’? I did not understand..how to be! I was recommended for play therapy at the age of 7; I went, but nothing was accomplished.

Even worse than all of the above, I was in almost constant ‘agony’. NEVER was I happy. NEVER! I became fixated on my mother and (again) lost my friends. My mother would lie down for a nap and I would sit, in pure agony, counting the seconds until she would awaken…ever needing her, yet never feeling secure with her! I even lost my appetite for an entire summer and had to FORCE myself to eat every bite, feeling like I would vomit in the process! (This was not a concern about weight.) Ideas would come to mind that I could not shake, such as that if I had the THOUGHT that my mother was going to die, that she would die (this idea came to me through reading a child’s novel by Judy Blume, where the main character had similar and regretful thoughts regarding her sick brother). I was absolutely TORMENTED by this for the LONGEST time, but could not stop it! I was overly sensitive, overly emotional: this is the basic gist…OVERLY EMOTIONAL and COMPLETELY VULNERABLE, INSECURE, TROUBLED MENTALLY and EMOTIONALLY…utterly thin skinned.

(Understand that, aside from my time in grade 1, being sent to the principal on occasion for not getting along with others — in class — I did NOT get into trouble; I wasn’t that ’sort’, if you know what I mean. I wrote loving letters to my mother — and even a ‘letter to the world’ — which I still have to this day — stating that I loved the whole world much much more than it could love me; I loved everyone more than they could love me (I was about 7). I did not think about bad things, about doing bad things. I had a good sense of what was wrong and believe I tried my best (when I did do a wrong thing, I knew it was wrong, like when a girl took a candy out of another girl’s desk and we both ate it; I wouldn’t have done that by myself — I would not have taken it! And I knew it was wrong to share it with her, and I felt badly about it.)

I just do not understand, if there is no such thing as ‘mental illness’, why I was plagued in this way, and so drastically…constantly?!

And then, later in my life, a series of very bad circumstances came into play, such as;
* the death of my mother when I was 16;
* my brother becoming (more of) an abusive alcoholic and drug addict (with wrongful attitudes towards women);
* my father being a workaholic and not there emotionally (he had been raised in an orphanage);
* my developing a very serious tumor that I had thought was cancer (most of my hip is gone…the glut muscle);
* the deaths (at age 18 and 28) of the TWO most important family members, aside from my mother, who were actually just like second mothers to me.
* living in an environment where I was not able to sleep (dogs in the house), being judged for complaining (I have forgiven any wrong done to me, so anything I write here is not about that)…it had taken 3 years for the tumor to be dealt with, this time during which I was on painkillers and had to sleep straight on my back and was also woken by the pain in the tumor.

There is much more than what I wrote above, and I’m sorry this is so long, but I want an opinion that is both “PSYCHOLOGICAL” and “SPIRITUAL”, and so on a whim I decided to post this to you. My point — why I have written all of this — is to display:

#1) My EXTREME torments as a child (constant and puzzling, as I knew of NO other child who was going through what I was); I really don’t know how I survived, looking back; it was unbearable, and I did not know what was happening to me or why (until later learning of ‘mental illness/depression’ — though I never wanted or intended to use it as an excuse for anything. I have always tried my hardest to combat it and do as much as I could, to be good, seek truth, make a good life. This never has worked yet.

#2) All of the circumstances that occured only made the ‘mental illness’ worse; MUCH worse!

I did seek truth in places I shouldn’t have, but NEVER EVER looking for anything bad/evil! I felt a longing for pure truth. I was ignorant (still, sinful) and have also unwittingly invited evil into my life. But I had ALWAYS wanted to know Jesus/God. In my early 20s, I even wrote Him a letter about this, inviting Him — telling him that EVERYTHING HE WAS DESCRIBED AS (LOVE, GOODNESS, PURITY, TRUTH, etc) WERE ALL THE THINGS I CHERISHED!!! I didn’t know how else to reach him, as I had thought that truth could be found in many places (ie. many religions, for example; many ways of life…like Bhuddist monks, etc; Native ‘philosophy’). I had thought, naively, that things like psychic abilities were simply a part of who we are as humans…part of the brain’s natural ability…etc, etc. HOWEVER, this is all WELL AFTER my sufferings as a child and teenager, and thusly does not play a part in my earier years.

Anyhow, just to mention, I have more formally invited Christ into my life now; am praying and putting my life in His hands, and ONLY looking towards Him for guidance. But I am curious as to why you think I might have suffered SO much (in the way of what would certainly be called ‘mental illness’) — and, by the way, which has HINDERED MY LIFE IN ALL ASPECTS (I am on Disability), as I just could not cope with the moods, feelings, etc. Am I to think that I am SO bad, somehow, that God made me suffer to the point where a) I cannot live a proper life/be good/be my true self, EVEN AS A CHILD??? I cannot see that a child would actually DESERVE such suffering. It hurts that I should have to blame myself as a CHILD for what I was feeling that was so agonizing. So, if it was not mental illness, then what? I was being punished?? Why more than the other children? Perhaps you can shed some light. Again, I’m sorry this is so long, and hope, too, that I have not posed too large a question to you.

Dianne

PS: I know that suffering is a part of life and that the other children surrounding me would have had other things to contend with (abuse, death, or goodness knows what) — but I of course am not writing to discuss why suffering is allowed, but rather, to investigate what I went through as being a result of sin or mental illness or what…my sin?? What could I have done that was so bad as to DESERVE, SPECIFICAllY, everything I have described? I was SO young.

I do not consider behaviors resulting from disease or injury to be sinful: the person is not culpable in such situations. Whether struggling with thoughts, behaviors, or feelings due to neurological problems or not, however, it is only the grace of God in Jesus Christ that allows any of our works to find favor with him and to (somehow) merit rewards in heaven.