Am I Bipolar?

"Lindsey keep up!" My softball coach is screaming at me. We're on our second round of sprints. I was 5 foot nothing, less than 100 pounds. I couldn't keep up. I wasn't strong or tall like the other girls and I wasn't built to keep up. I worked harder, spent more time in the weight room, pushed myself. But it wasn't enough, I wasn't like the other girls-this wasn't meant for me.

Its Sunday, I'm sitting in a pew trying to listen. I work my pencil a little faster, scribbling some notes. On the outside I was a little girl sitting politely, dressed in a modest skirt, paying attention and taking notes. But on the inside I was done with this. I hated sitting in church, I hated making myself take notes, making myself dress like everybody else. I hated the routine, hated talking about how much I was blessed by the message when really I left every Sunday feeling empty. I just wanted to stand up and sing to Jesus. I wanted to dance and raise my hands in praise. I wanted to feel free. But instead, I felt trapped in that pew and started drawing instead.

For most of my life I spent my time trying to be like everybody else around me. I tried to be strong like my mom, I tried to follow her routine. I tried to be philosophical and wise like my dad. I tried to be like my sister, tried to get up at the same time every day, style my hair the same as it had been the day before, and complete the same tasks. I tried to love big houses and the newest cars, perfectly clean and organized houses, domestic life, reading my Bible, studying doctrine. I didn't believe these things were wrong-I believed they could be blessings and good things and they could and do work for a lot of people. But I didn't like any of it-none of it worked for me-it wasn't meant for me.

I lived everyday trying to be someone else. And when I woke up every morning I felt empty and alone because I could never be good enough and I could never learn to be like everyone else. I felt like I was different and somehow not normal. Something was wrong with me because I was unlike anyone that I observed around me.

People teased me for being different, joked that I was bipolar. I knew they were only ever teasing-but one night I took it to heart. Maybe I was bipolar and that was the reason I was different. So I started studying the symptoms, studying the cause. I watched documentaries on the subject, looked into treatment, observed people with the disorder. In my heart I knew that this wasn't me. I knew that God had formed me in my mother's womb and that I wasn't bipolar. In my heart I knew that nothing was wrong with me. But when nothing on the outside that worked for others worked for me, I was left with questions and emptiness. And I cried. My heart hurt. There, lying in my bed, hot tears rolled from my eye down my cheek and onto my pillow. Why can't I be like everyone else.

The next morning, my heart still heavy, I climbed out of bed and went to meet my dear mentor and friend for coffee. Somehow I felt safe with her and she told me what my heart was trying to say. I'm not bipolar, and I'm not built to be and do and love what the next person does. In fact I'm made to be different. I'm crafted and painted by an artist of artists. Specially an original unlike any other of His paintings. And what was happening when I was trying to repaint myself to match His other work? Part of the art was being lost-part of the purpose and conception of design thrown away. And it was then I realized that I am painted with different colors than anybody else-we all are. I'm not afraid to be proud of the colors that He tastefully painted me with. I'm not afraid to recognize differences-because differences are beautiful. So now I'm going to own my "unpopular opinions", and differences and uniqueness. I'm going to be honest.

I love different things. I love hearing new ideas, and different opinions, and weird theories. I love watching documentaries, and studying the work of coroners, and questioning historical events. I love spending time watching a 3D printer at work or admiring a complex piece of art.

I don't want a big house or nice car or big family. I don't like being a "domestic" woman most of the time. I dread the thought of being tied down to a job or school or housework.

I don't regularly read my Bible and most of the time God doesn't speak to me through it, and I've never been able to love doctrine. However, the Bible is so beautiful and so useful in so many ways. I love helping lead worship, and singing to God-He speaks to me through music.

Caring for dying people gives me a thrill. Caring for people gives me a thrill. I love being hands on, feeling wrinkly foreheads for a fever, helping the helpless to take a sip of water. I love obsessing over people's physical well-being.

And this is a small part of me. And now I want to know about you; who you really are, your "unpopular opinions", and what you're afraid of people knowing. Because you are beautiful. Your differences make you an unmatched masterpiece completed by the hand of God-and don't forget it.