Growing up, my brother used to call me Circuit Breaker. Since childhood, I’ve done everything either all-in or not at all – and this was before the bipolar disorder showed up. While this lack of moderation contributed to academic success and athletic medals, it also led to quite a bit of trouble. Yes, I have photo albums and journals filled with elation and success, but there was always, inevitably, a crash. Too much energy overwhelmed my system, and the fuse blew.

My first depressive episode came in the Fall of my senior year of college, although I didn’t recognize it as such until much later. The pattern was familiar, but this “power outage” lasted several months. After that year, my body never seemed able to handle as much current as before. Either that, or the edge of mania had begun to creep in. I finished medical school despite uncharacteristic excesses in relationships and life. My biggest crash came after a long, and again unrecognized, time of hypomania. My brain was running at hyper speed as I arrived in New York to begin residency.

After only two months of 80+ hour weeks in the ER, my hypomania bumped up to full-blown mania, and, not long after that, I crashed hard. I spent much of the next decade in a head-spinning cycle of ups and downs. This instability and emotional overload magnified my inherent black-or-white, “all-in or completely off” nature. After a long, slow ascent from darkness, my circuit reset itself, with the help of good doctors and even better parents. But I am still Dr. Circuit Breaker, which now casts a shadow of fear on my heart.

Currently, I am sitting at my desk, next to a window that faces the sun all day. Though I have a separate desk for my Greek studies, I usually move those books into the patch of sunlight, too. Add in a space-heater and a couple of full bookshelves, and I’m quite content. I still have periods of depression, but with the help of medications, they usually don’t last long. I haven’t felt this stable since 2008. In the last few months, though, a whisper of worry and unease snuck up on me.

It took me a long time to figure out that the fluttery feeling in my abdomen was an emotional clue, not a symptom of an illness. Last week, I finally pinned the rest down. I spend hours in my study every day. I study the Bible, translate it from the Greek, and prepare to bring this enthusiasm to my Bible study. I am utterly saturated in the Word of God, and it feels like home. I am all in, but deep in my heart, I’m anticipating the next crash. When will the lure of Scripture’s beauty and truth blow a fuse? How long can I ride such a powerful current without shorting the system?

Telling myself that all my studying is powered by God, not by me, doesn’t help much. Just because God is granting me a time of growth and joy does not necessarily mean I can sustain this level of activity forever. God wants the best for me, but the last decade has taught me that a dark canvas often gives God the most freedom to act. I do not doubt he will bring light to the darkness of my struggles. Still, I must learn to lay down my checklists and timetables and submit to his. Knowing this and adding to it my mental illness, I feel the uncertainty of my future billowing just out of sight.

I’ve come to realize that the insidious fear hovering around me is based on my belief that my life right now is the best way – the only way I can walk well before the Lord. I know this is silly, if not heretical. I know that my biggest time of transformation was during the struggle of my life. Learning to trust him – to not just say My life is yours, but to jump into the deep – is an ongoing process. Perhaps I will only learn to trust God completely when he allows the fuse to blow and the darkness to rush in. Perhaps I will continue doing what I’m doing until he calls me home. Either way, at least I know I can’t do it on my own. So, for now, I will continue on, full speed ahead. How else could I serve the Almighty God, but with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength? For the first time in my life, Rebecca Circuit Breaker has a worthy task.

Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42