"my name's dean, and i'm an alcoholic", he said. only we weren't at an AA meeting, we were hanging out in dundas square.

my students had met him during an activity and ended up inviting him to our community dinner in regent park that night. dean wanted to go, but he needed help getting there.

ashamedly, i felt annoyed at first. i calculated how long it would take for me to walk him there (he was pretty intoxicated), and how having to do so prevented me from being able to spend more time with my team before they headed back to peterborough that night.

but dean, you see, he blessed my heart. he was so honest. raw. funny. outgoing and caring. there wasn't a person we passed on the street that didn't get a sincere hello, or an (attempted) handshake. he made me smile, and he reminded me of a love that is most pure - God's love - as he so confidently quoted john 3:16 in between his countless "i'm sorry i'm so drunk" apologies. ironically, both go hand in hand; God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, and nothing - not even one too many beers - can separate us from His love. dean, in his drunken state, ministered to me. (this, as i've quickly learned, is as common as you allow it to be.)

we ended up making it to regent park faster than i thought we would thanks to a friend's bus pass. there, dean changed into the new outfit we were able to find him before sitting down for a meal. he looked really sharp and happy (which in turn, made me happy.)

but my favourite part? my favourite part was when he made his way up to the front of the church after dinner and asked my friend if she could play 'jesus loves me' on the piano. she did, of course, and he cried. he hadn't heard it since he was five, he said. but he believed it. in fact, he was preaching it long before my friend even played a note.

little did i know at the time, i would need this reminder more than anything myself this week.

as a few of you know, i've been battling deep bouts of depression on and off since june, and with these episodes come a lot of self-hate and guilt. i can't explain why this is or how fast i spiral, either. on a good day, i think i'm funny and kind and supportive, but this illness, you see, makes me feel anything but. unlovable and worthless. like i don't matter and as if people's lives would be easier and better off without me.

i realize how insane this sounds. i find myself cringing even as i write this. but that's mental illness for you. the darkness envelops you.

so on monday, after being crippled by one too many dark days, i decided to look into getting some meds. i mustered up enough energy and courage to walk into the doctor's office across the street and admit that i'm sick. admitting is the hardest part, i find. but i have 300mg (10mg/day) of fluoxetine to prove that i did it, and i am now two pills in and a week and a half from them (hopefully - fingers crossed) starting to kick in.

yesterday was tough, but today was better. i suspect life will look like this for a while. but i'm one step closer to feeling like myself again, and that's enough to make me keep going. of course, other things help, too. like a phone call from a friend, a hug from another, or, as like i mentioned at the beginning of this blog, the greatest reminder from my new friend, dean: God loves me, mental illness and all, and He loves you, too.

i ate 15 oreos for dinner last week. fif-teen.

i was having a bad couple of days and found myself unsuccessfully wrestling through a lot of internal conflict, which led to my usual mood swings, which led to me hibernating for a few days.

i decided to come out of my room to make dinner one night only to realize that my housemate was having people over in less than half an hour. she invited me to join them, but as mentioned above, i was hella moody and anti-social, so i opted for the only accessible thing i could find at the time to feed my mood and satisfy my hunger: a bag of double stuffed oreos with a side of netflix. (i certainly do want you to 'continue playing', thank you very much.)

of course, if you've ever (double) stuffed your face, or used any unhealthy coping mechanism, you know exactly what comes next: guilt and/or disgust, on top of whatever you were feeling before you ate/drank/did drugs/binged your favourite show etc., and that's exactly what i felt that night as i sat there staring at the empty rows of cookies in disgust.

but here's the thing; the eating contest i had with myself didn't make any of my 'stuff' go away; it kept reappearing and will continue to until i stop stuffing it (and stuffing my face) and start dealing with my insecurity and low self esteem at its root.

the truth is, most of the time i feel ugly, fat and undesirable. unsuccessful and alone. moody and irritable. disconnected and lost.

sure, i can chalk some of this up to losing my parents (lost and disconnected), me not being married or having kids (undesirable and alone), or me only being able to work twenty hours a week (and going crazy the rest of the time), but i can't figure it out otherwise.

but what i do know is that temporary fixes are exactly that: temporary; they may make you feel good in the moment (at least up until your fourth cookie), but they don't help you in the long run.

what will help us in the long run, however, is finding the root cause of our pain, working through it and moving towards healing.

for you, that may look like facing past abuse and working through the trauma attached to it or forgiving yourself for a past mistake or someone else for theirs. maybe it looks like facing your family's history with addiction and working through it with a counselor, or maybe just maybe, it's as 'simple' as looking in the mirror and telling yourself that you are valuable until you start to believe it yourself.

for me, it looks like removing myself from most social media outlets for a while and spending the time i'd usually waste (scrolling and comparing) on something productive like worrying about my own life. it also looks like seeing my wonderful counselor regularly, bringing my insecurities to the light and most importantly, reminding myself of the Lord's unfailing love for me - His secure, sufficient love - and putting the oreos down long enough to rest in it.

i'm sitting at a table in my old stomping grounds, mcdonalds, pluggling away on this week's to-do-list. it's been great being able to chat with some of my old crew and regulars here and there, periodic breaks that the A.D.D in me welcomes with open arms.

most of the people who have been excited to see me haven't surprised me - i spent a considerable amount of time investing into this place (and it in me) - but one customer in particular made me remember just how much of a long lasting difference we can make in someone else's life without even knowing it, and in the simplest of ways.

"you know, paula" he said, "the people here are good, but every once in a while you run into someone who is exceptional, and that person is you. we miss you here. i miss being able to see you when i'm having a bad day."

"gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones" (proverbs 16:24), and whether here, at work, or by text, i have been a recipient of many of these the past few days, proving that a word of life begets ... life.

speaking of life (how's that for a segue?), with the exception of instagram (it's the only thing i have in terms of a photo album), i took myself off of social media for a bit (maybe permanently.) it's a scary thing feeling disconnected, but i can tell you that the past few days have been incredibly freeing. my 'screen time' has not only decreased (thanks for keeping track, apple), but i've been able to focus on 'watering my own lawn' instead of being made to believe that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence (although my neighbours, pete and jackie, are much better at taking care of their lawn than i am.)

i got out of bed yesterday after a few days of feeling defeated by depression, headed to work, crossed a lot off of my to-do list and had a few life-giving conversations with some of my friends from work. i came home feeling happy for the first time in a few days, made a delicious dinner (cooking makes me come alive), locked myself in my room and started working on (and tweaking) the devotions i'm responsible for at work tomorrow, and a sermon i feel honoured to preach at one of my favourite churches in mississauga on sunday.

and here i am, on day two of getting out of bed and getting out of the house and getting things done, because of God's strength and grace, yes, but also because yesterday's life-giving day gave me the momentum i needed for today.

by the same token, i'm certain that the kind words from my particular customer today will give me momentum i need for tomorrow, too, because, well, life begets life.

i bought a new pair of shoes in europe but i've yet to walk a mile in them. the truth is, you haven't, either.

the same can be said about life, can't it? we really don't know what anyone else has walked through, nor can we understand, really. so why do we pretend to have all of the answers when someone tries to open up? truth be told, an untimely, apathetic-esque word can do more damage than good, even if spoken with the best of intention.

this happened to me this week, actually. heck, maybe it even happened to you.

i struggle with being so open online. it's safer for me to pound out my feelings on this blog because i have no idea who's reading it or what they're (you're) thinking about me as they (you) do.

that, and i don't know what else to do with this inner conflict and chaos.

the "i have so many things to be thankful for" VS the all consuming lack that i feel ever since the loss of my parents and because i'm 38 and don't have a family or constant support system of my own.

or the "jesus is all sufficient" line that people feed me while leaning on their spouse or family for support VS the bible being very clear that community and relationship is at the very heart of the God i believe in and serve.

or the "don't make anyone a priority if they only make you an option" quote i ponder VS "the stay true to who you are and keep investing in people" battle i wrestle with most of the time.

and the list goes on. (it always does.)

i told the Lord the other day how tired i was of the mental battle i have to endure, the weariness that comes with it, and the not so subtle bi-polar mood swings. the really high highs and the really low lows. (the worst part is, i thought i was getting better.)

i do what i can to get through each episode, though. some days, this looks like scraping myself out of bed, putting my laundry away and mustering up enough energy to go to the store and get groceries like it did this week, and other times, it means taking a bus downtown and pounding out a blog in a coffee shop before heading to church in hopes to meet my Healer there. either way, i have to keep going. either way, so do you.

it was the bottom of the ninth and we were down by six. after a two-run shot early in the game, my friend and i were full of hope. she had never been to a losing game, in fact, and those are pretty good odds. i, on the other hand, have been to many losing games, but thankfully, i rarely leave a game early.

next thing you know, a double, followed by a home run, brings us within two with only one out.

two batters later, the smokin hot gurriel jr gets up and hits the ball into the rays' bullpen to tie it up, bringing us to our feet.

if that wasn't electric enough, you'll never guess what happened next. (unless you saw the highlights, of course.) the SMOAKin hot (only not that kind of hot this time) justin smoak steps up to the plate and hits a walk-off home run. LIKE THE GAME WINNING HOME RUN. in the ninth. after being down by six.

i couldn't stop smiling all the way home and as i watched the replay over and over before calling it a night; it was the second most exciting game i have ever been to (my friend bought me playoff tickets once for a do or die game against texas and we won.)

in typical paula fashion, this got me thinking.

how many times have i wanted to quit life in the ninth inning? how many times have you?

you have two strikes against you. the ball is coming in fast. it may even have a mean curve. life throws curve balls, after all.

or maybe you seem to be dropping the ball at work and your colleagues are producing more than you.

or maybe, just maybe, you feel like you're standing in the field alone. your marriage is rocky or your kids aren't doing as well at school as you had hoped, and you're tired and worn out.

whatever your life looks like at the moment, don't give up; you never know when you're going to get the pitch you need to hit it out of the park. just ask the blue jays.

i can't stop staring at my sister's ultra sound. LIKE THE NEWEST MEMBER OF MY FAMILY IS FORMING IN THERE. my niece or nephew, in fact; a baby who has been knit together in their mother's womb with intentional detail, and in perfect timing.

this unborn baby represents a lot more than a son or daughter or niece or nephew; he or she represents the perseverance of a husband and wife who refused to give up during such a frustrating wait; a long and painful, drawn out wait.

my sister would tell you it's worth it, though. she would even say that it made this whole experience more rich, and her all the more appreciative.

kind of like how i feel about my job.

no one knows my story quite like i do. (and no one knows your story quite like you do, either.)

few know how hard i've worked to get here. the countless hours i spent dreaming, planning and building, and building some more.

how many times i stepped out in faith only to fall on my face.

the times i was overlooked, mistreated, underappreciated or underpaid.

the conflicting emotion i felt time after time, the dumb (really dumb) decisions i made, and how quickly (too quickly) i quit at times, and the times i should have quit and didn't. (quitting isn't always a bad thing, you know.)

the trials and hardship. the wrestling and soul searching. the frustration. the disappointment. the unfulfillment.

but i, like, my sister, am all the more appreciative for what i have now more because of the fact that i had to wait.

i couldn't help but reflect on this as i sat at my desk today, or when i got an email from my supervisor approving my vacation time next month or a text from a leader in montreal confirming that she wants to bring a team here again in a few months, and i'll be thinking about how worth the wait was once again when i greet them at the bus station in march and as i'm doing what i was put on earth to do that week, during the summer, and every day in between.

waiting can suck, i know. sometimes, it's a matter of surrendering our wants and needs and trusting that things will work out the way that we had hoped that they would (and learning to be content if they don't), and other times it means pushing through the overly frustrating and disappointing waiting stage long enough to hold your beautiful newborn or land your dream job.

either way, wait it out; what is for you will not pass you by.

i can see why that young, vibrant pastor recently took his own life. (a story that i can't get out of my head, by the way.)

outwardly, he was grieving. stressed. scared. his dad passed away years a go (which is hard on its own) and in doing so, left him the huge responsibility of leading his church (pressure.)

given that it was a popular church, pastor 'drew' had multiple stalkers, one of whom showed up at his house in a dangerous manner, forcing him to sell it, and his mom's house, hire security and move to a different community altogether (stressful.)

on top of that, he was a pastor, and only those who are one (or know of one) know the burden that brings in and of itself. leadership of any kind is lonely, but pastoring? people's eyes are on you. some, in form of adoration (which can be stressful in itself). others, in hopes to see you fail.

plus, you're expected to have all of the answers when it comes to God and faith and suffering (and the list goes on), and none of us do.

add a forced sabbatical to the list, and you feel distant from the thing and people you love the most. not to mention bored and purposeless. on top of that, idle time has its way of forcing you to face your pain, which is hard and exhausting.

while the outward stuff contributes to your state of hopelessness, it's the inward stuff that drives people to take their own life. the stuff people cant see. the never ending questions. the chaos. the turmoil.

"i'm too much of a burden; my spouse (family, friends) will be better off without me."

"i'm tired of fighting. i'm never going to get better"

(and that list goes on, too.)

so when i heard about the tragic death of pastor andrew stoecklein, i wasn't surprised. really sad, yes, but not surprised. (weird how you can feel heartbroken over someone you don't know.)

but even more than that, i'm left feeling burdened for those who struggle with a similar feat.

if you're a church goer, do me a favour and encourage your pastor this week (and every week after that.) love him or her well. expect less and pray (for them) more.

and if you're not, encourage anyone you can. spread love, not hate. give more and expect less, too.

because sadly, when it comes down to it, this won't be the last suicide we hear about. regardless of what can be seen on the outside or what our social media accounts say, we're all facing battles and demons that no one else knows anything about.

R.I.P, pastor.