It’s been just over 2 weeks since I cut my hair–since my last really bad day. When I reread my post “Why I Cut My Hair” this morning, I was surprised that it had been 2 weeks already. The day still looms large in my memory. I’ve talked before about how I often talk to God when I am thoroughly consumed by my depression. I pray a lot, but when I say I talk to God, I mean that I often talk out loud angrily, outbursts of frustration and angry questions. I spout out my hopelessness and loathing. I say things to God that I wouldn’t say to anyone else about how I am feeling. He already knows the worst of my thoughts, and when I talk to God, I have no fear of how He might respond to the insanity, because he is quiet. God has never literally spoken back to me. And I’m not expecting a literal answer. I’m not saying it couldn’t happen, just that I’m not waiting for it to happen. I’m also not saying that God doesn’t respond to me when I talk to Him. It’s just that he responds in His own way and His own time, and sometimes I’m too daft to recognize it.
Two weeks ago, before I cut my hair, when I was in the depths of a depressive moment, I asked God for a miracle. I felt like I needed one. I felt like the only way I could survive–the only way I could forever get rid of my suicidality–was for God to give me a miracle. God has performed miracles in my life before, at least I think they are moments of divine intervention. My one, actual suicide attempt was nearly successful. I took enough drugs to kill myself, but good luck or God–however you want to look at it–intervened and saved me. That’s the most obvious example in my life, but, being a positive thinker, I like to think that God has performed many smaller miracles in my life as well.
So I asked for a miracle 2 weeks ago. I told God that I couldn’t do it without one. I threatened that I would give in if He didn’t help me. So where is my miracle? Was it that my daughter snapped me out of my depressive day 2 weeks ago? Was it good news my husband received at work? Was it the refreshing weekend I had? Was it the confidence I regained after working on my book manuscript and being reminded of my own strength? Is it reconnection with an old friend that reminds me of beautiful parts of myself that I haven’t thought about in years? Is it a new blog idea I had that allows me to therapeutically write even more?
My dad, David O. Dykes, has a book called Hope When You Need It Most that has this wonderful acronym for hope that I love: Having Only Positive Expectations. I choose to be hopeful, despite the hopelessness that resides in my brain. When I can be positive, I am. And when I ask God for a miracle, I expect that it will come. And I love that I begin to see every good thing that happens to me as possibly the miracle I asked for. It’s all about how you think about things. My change in perspective since I faithfully asked for a miracle could be the miracle itself. I am seeing my blessings clearer, I see everything potentially as a gift from God. It is an exercise in positivity, hope, and faith. May you all see your own blessings clearly and find every miracle in your life. Stay hopeful through practicing positivity when you can. And when you have no hope, hang on. Sometimes miracles happen even when we don’t ask for them.