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Wouldn’t it be amazing if, during our darkest hour, we could reach under our bed and open up a box of hope?  A “box of hope” could be a figurative thing that we reach inside ourselves or out to God to find.  But sometimes you need something more.  Sometimes you need a literal box of hope.  And that is just what I created for myself during my darkest hour.

When I was 16 years old, during my senior year of high school, I was immersed in a deep and serious clinic depression.  My Obsessive Compulsive Disorder had just been diagnosed but was not yet under control.  I had constant intrusive thoughts of hurting myself – of ending my life.

Looking back I really had amazing self control on the whole.  But I could only handle so much.  The second time I caved in to the constant bombardment of intrusive images of self-harm, and I ended up cutting myself using razor blades my parents had forgotten to hide out in the garage.

Afterward I was on the phone with my therapist at the time.  She was telling me I was at a crossroads… that if I chose to continue down this path of cutting I would probably end up in a hospital.  I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying.  Instead, I was transfixed by what was sitting on the desk in front of me – the candlelighting piece my mom had made for my younger sister’s Bat Mitzvah.  She had glued this tiny shells all over the outside of it go with my sister’s tropical theme.  And it struck me then with incredible intensity how very beautiful those tiny shells were – how simply amazing it was that something SO tiny could be SO beautiful.  And if something that tiny in life could be that beautiful… well all of life was beautiful and precious as well.

I rushed to get off the phone with my therapist.  I knew that I had to find a way to hang onto this feeling.  I had stumbled upon my internal box of hope!  But I knew that it wouldn’t be easy to tap into again.  I had to find a way to make it physical while it was fresh in my mind.  I had to find a way to remind myself of this epiphany every day because I knew there would be many dark days ahead where I would desperately need to draw on my box of hope.

So I had my mom (who is good at crafty things) help me cover an old shoe box with some bright pretty wrapping paper.  I wanted my box of hope to be private and inconspicuous on the outside.  I didn’t tell her what it was for, but perhaps sensing my urgency she kindly helped me anyway.  Then I took the box upstairs to my room and set to work.

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Going through pictures and old magazines I decorated the inside of the box with things I wanted to do with my life, places I wanted to travel, people who cared about me, things that filled me with hope.  I hadn’t yet found out if I had gotten into USC Film School (a few months later I did), so I put a picture of a director’s chair with “USC Alumni” written on it.  I glued in some of the very shells that had led me to make the box to remind me of how beautiful life could be.

I put a picture of myself as a child to remind myself of happy memories of my childhood innocence.  I was obsessed with The X-Files and desperately wanted to know how it would all end, so I put a picture of that as well.

Most importantly I wrote in large purple letters:

I CHOOSE TO CONTINUE LIVING

I WILL GET THROUGH THIS

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Then it was time to fill the box.  Inside I placed a smiling drama mask to remind me of my love of theater and the creative arts since creativity had always sustained me during dark times and given me something to look forward to.

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I placed my childhood comfort animals – my blanky, kitty, and lamby – inside.  Though nubby and threadbare from a lifetime of being loved the went into the box to remind me to always feel safe.

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Next went the rug I wove myself while learning about Native Americans in elementary school.  I had always hated looking at it when I was younger because I hadn’t done it perfectly like my best friend Jennifer.  But over time I came to love it for it’s imperfections.  In the box, it reminded me that imperfection could be beautiful too!

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I put in a bracelet I made when I was 11.  All the beads were pretty by themselves but together well… it reminds me that you can have too much of a good thing.  But also to have fun and to have a sense of humor in all things.

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Second to last I put in a rope I tediously made myself during Outdoor Education in 5th grade.  I spent over an hour with my hands going numb in an icy cold river laboriously pounding all the moisture out of a reed before braiding it into a rope.  It reminds me of the power of hard work.  And the rope itself, which could hold my whole body weight, reminds me to always be strong.

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Finally I included a letter that saved my life one day.  I was home alone after school and feeling very suicidal.  I was searching for a knife to cut myself with.  Suddenly, I had a prompting to go check the mail before I got any further.  I almost never received any mail, but on that very day the following letter was there for me.

I cried when I read the letter.  It quite possibly saved my life that day.  I stopped looking for a knife and starting trying to figure out who could have sent it.  I didn’t think about hurting myself at all for the rest of that day.  The letter reminds me that I am loved even when I don’t realize it or it doesn’t feel that way, and that God is there working miracles in my life.

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I looked at my box of hope every day for about a year. It got me through a lot of very dark hours and days and months. Then there came a time when I could carry my box of hope around with me in my heart, and I didn’t need to look at it so often.

Now it mostly sits in my closet, but I always know it is there if I need it.  But today I was talking with a friend who is going through a very dark time in her life, and I told her about it.  I offered to send her photos of it, but, I thought, why not go a step farther and share it here?  Perhaps there is someone else who needed a little box of hope today.

Has anyone else made a box of hope or something similar?  Please share and post about it in the comments!

Recent Comments:

• Annie commented on Hospital Update I hope the feeding tube goes well – you are in my thoughts times 110! Annie
• Gillian commented on Hospital Update Thinking of you. You’re in my prayers and I hope that the procedure went really well this time.
• Wacky Lisa commented on Hospital Update I really hope tomorrow goes well & that the NJ tube helps a great deal.
• Alison commented on Fear and Liver Failure writing it all down makes me feel better too. I agree with maureen, fear is difficult but you seem t
• Robby commented on Fear and Liver Failure I’m thinking of you constantly Belle… It is so hard to say have no fear…but you and I both have

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© Novel Patient for Novel Patient, 2010. | Permalink | 9 comments | Add to del.icio.us
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Through my chronic illness, I have come to realize how crucial it is to have faith.  When most people think of the word “faith” they think religion, but there are so many other aspects to keeping faith alive in your life through dark and difficult times.  In fact, the word “faith” is merely defined as “confidence or trust in a person or thing.”

I have been blessed with always having a tremendous faith in myself.  Faith that I have the ability to get through anything no matter what life rolls my way.  But oddly enough, I believe my faith in myself stemmed from my childhood traumas.  As a child I was forced into the role of the third parent in my house.  As painful as it was it gave me an inner strength — a knowledge that I was capable of getting through anything if I just believed in myself.

This inner strength and faith in myself was strengthened as I battled depression.  Living for three years with intrusive thoughts on hurting myself or ending my life and yet not acting on them, save three minor occasions, gave me the faith in myself that I could get through anything if I was determined enough.

So when my illness struck, I’ve always had the faith that I can get through this as well.  Though it isn’t always easy… in fact it hardly ever is, I have kept the faith in myself that I am a strong enough person to deal with whatever I find in front of me.  And that faith has gotten me through the endless doctors appointments and tests, the six and half years of searching for a diagnosis, the prolonged hospitalizations, adjusting to life in a wheelchair, and the daily struggle to keep a positive attitude despite my pain and other limitations.

I have also learned how important it is to keep faith that things will get better, that I will get better.  I have to have faith that I will find a treatment or even a cure that will allow me to live a more normal life again in the future.  This faith that things will be more than okay — faith that things will get better sustains me during my darkest hours.

And then there’s faith that I have in others.  I don’t keep my illness private.  Through this blog, through the people I meet and share my story with, I share my journey with the world.  And I have to have faith in people.  That they will understand.  That they will be there for me.  And though I sometimes find myself disappointed, overall I find that when I put my faith in others they rise to the occasion.  It’s as if they were waiting for me to put my faith in them.  Waiting for me to put my blind trust and confidence in them, and they respond by being there for me in more ways than I can count.  And I am so blessed and grateful for this.

Finally there is the ultimate faith.  The kind you have despite the lack of evidence or proof.  Faith in God.  Though I try to keep this blog secular, I feel I would be amiss if I didn’t share this part of my journey.  Though I was raised Reform Jewish, it never really resonated with me.  It is a beautiful religion, but through it was hadn’t found the close connection to God I’ve so desperately craved especially in the last few years as I’ve struggled with my illness.  I’ve tried out several different churches over the years.  I was going to a Universalist Unitarian church for a while, and though I loved the people and how open they were, I still didn’t find what I was looking for in terms of a close and personal relationship with God.  Finally, two Sundays ago I went to a Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints or Mormon church with a friend.  There I finally found what I had been searching for.  I have found the faith in God that I had been seeking.  I realized I had it all along.  I’ve prayed for a long time to find this closeness to God that I now finally feel, but I never expected to find it through Christ, and yet there it is.  And as surprising as it is to my friends, family, and even myself, I am getting baptized in a month.    And so I am really excited to embark on this new journey of faith.

Faith is so important no matter what form it takes.  When you are suffering physical pain all the time what else do you have to turn to but some sort of faith that things will be okay.  Whether it comes from within or from others or from God, faith is what has sustained me through my battle with chronic illness.

Recent Comments:

• Alison commented on Fear a little cry once in a while doesn’t hurt anything
• Sandra Lee commented on Fear My heart is with you! May you pull through without all the “what ifs” happening.
• amanda commented on Fear Girl you know the Lord is watching over you and you will be fine *hugs* love you <3
• Jeanne commented on Full Disclosure Hi Lauren, This is a great post. The vast majority of my 28 years (out of 41) living with chronic il
• faeryqueen21 commented on Box of Hope Lauren this box is such a wonderful idea. I really wish I had had something like this when I was goi

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© Novel Patient for Novel Patient, 2010. | Permalink | 4 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Post tags: Appointment, appointments, art, blog, childhood traumas, Chronic, Chronic Illness, confidence, cure, daily struggle, depression, diagnosis, difficult times, doctor, Doctors, faith, family, God, hope, hospital, hospitalization, Hospitalizations, illness, inner strength, inspiration, intrusive thoughts, Jesus, Jesus Christ, journey, keeping faith, Latter Day Saints, LDS, life, Mormon, novel, pain, patient, positive attitude, religion, self control, share, ssi, story, treatment, waiting, wheelchair, word faith