Late last night I finished another chapter for my book about having mental illness and specifically bipolar disorder. So depending on how you figure it, that's three chapters I've done in the past few weeks. Three chapters done since I picked up the project again in the wake of Dad's death.
In all honesty, I never expected to have come this far along, so fast. I don't know if I could have before now. Maybe I had to go through some things before I could arrive at the place where I am now. Dad's death... well, it changed me in some ways. Most of all it renewed my faith in God, that His timing is perfect though we often can't see that. That aspect has made me realize anew that everything that I've gone through, everything that has happened, has had some purpose. It hasn't been for naught. What that purpose is, I don't know... but it's there.
I am writing the book in part because this is what I'm supposed to be doing at this point in my life, looking back on all the other points that were leading to this precise place. I want to believe that I am poised exactly where God has been moving me to be for all of this time, despite how dire the circumstance may have been.
I could not write what I am now, were it not for those things happening.
I like to think that that belief in God will be reflected in the book, regardless of how it will come across to many people.
Let me be clear, in no uncertain terms: this is a harsh, harsh book. The chapter that was finished last night is the longest so far. You'll know it if this is published. It's manic. Very manic. We're talking rapid-fire machine gun of barely-controlled thrill ride framed by what remains one of the very worst mistakes of my life.
But now, at last, I have come to the edge of a very, very dark place and I am so not kidding: in all of my long career as a published writer, what I'm about to do next is the most frightening thing that I have ever attempted.
This is the abyss, and I'm about to plunge into it. Worse, I'm asking readers to come along with me and look into the darkest heart of mental illness. There are things in there that will disgust many, if not most. I am not going to be looked at the same way again. I may lose friendships. I may lose opportunities
Tonight the notion struck me that I couldn't be doing this if it weren't for God bringing me to this place. If this had been just me, I could not be writing at all. We are told that in our weakness, He is magnified. If what I am doing in this book gives God the honor and the glory, then what I'm about to do will be a small sacrifice. One that I won't mind in the long run.
But right now, I'm scared. Really, really scared.
I hope you people have a strong stomach.
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