Part 5 - Restoration

At the end of the first paragraph of my last post, I mentioned that my soul had been washed clean. If you wanted proof that God was real, and he does miraculous things, here it is: Four days into my stay in the psych ward, my mom came to visit. She asked me, “what is one thing that you would never have expected to see again after Wednesday night? (December   22nd)” I said my BlackBerry, she said “close, but no. Your wallet has been found.” Pretty significant, seeing as I had chucked it off the Lionsgate Bridge at 3am, never thinking I’d see it again. But here’s what makes this so miraculous, it didn’t just turn up, it washed up on shore in Langdale, BC; some forty kilometres away from where I threw it in. And even more miraculous, it was in PERFECT condition; all I had to do was wipe off the sand. Business cards I had in there barely even looked as if they got wet. Why was this symbol of my wallet being returned to me so prophetic, you ask? Well, what is it that you keep in your wallet? - Your money, your credit cards, some pictures, sure. But the most important thing it contains is your identity. (drivers license, social insurance card, health card, etc.) So for me, It was like my identity was taken from me, seemingly destroyed, then washed completely clean and fully restored to me. Through all the years of therapy and all the psychiatrists I saw, none of them could do for me what the man upstairs could do. No one other than God could take my broken soul and wash it clean.

I’m certainly not saying that I have been fully restored. I acknowledge that there is a long road ahead of me and this will be a process. This acknowledgement was something I could never figure out in the past. I would often let my pride get in the way of my treatment. I would stop taking my medication properly, stop going to the psychiatrist, start staying out later and drinking more, etc. All because I thought I was good, I could handle it, I got this thing beat. I didn’t. I don’t. When I think about it, I kind of get the image of painting over rust. - No matter how pretty the paint is, there is still rust underneath, and eventually the paint will chip away and fall off, exposing the rust beneath. It’s important, and this is the journey I am on now, to fix what’s underneath. Because eventually, the paint fades away, and the good feelings are gone, and all you’re left with is your rust. My inner healing began with finding God through the darkest time of my life. He was there holding my hand on that bridge, He showed me that I was loved, and He washed my identity clean and returned it to me.

I will continue to Blog as my journey continues, documenting all the highs (and lows) of my path to recovery. As I said in the first paragraph of my first post, my hope is to help anyone that might be suffering through any mental health problems. - You are not alone, and although times may get dark and as hopeless as you may feel, please remember that you are loved. Don’t be afraid or ashamed to ask for help when needed, and don’t be afraid to tell people what you are going through. If my experience in writing this has taught me anything, people genuinely do care and are always willing to listen. It’s time to throw away our misconceptions about mental illness and start talking about it. Suicide is the number three cause of death in people aged 15-24. If even one of these were preventable by talking about mental illness, wouldn’t it be worth it?

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone for supporting me and this blog. Please feel free to share my blog with ANYONE. I know that my story may not be an original one, but hopefully it will be the right one for someone out there. Like I said, if we can help at least one person, it will all be worthwhile.

God Bless,

David Cleverley