Pax et Bonum!

Shirley here. This blog is my outlet for sharing the realities of life, mental health, and faith. After earning a teaching degree, I built much of my career in education: I started at a university laboratory school teaching English to first-year students (today’s 7th graders), later taught undergraduates at two government universities following a stint in freelancing, and eventually moved into the public school system as a class adviser and Communication Arts teacher for grades 11 and 12. All the while, I was quietly battling mental health struggles that had taken root since college. Compounding this was nearly two decades spent, alongside my family, in a local cult—an experience that left my bipolar mood swings and epileptic episodes intense and unpredictable, navigated through constant medication and an undercurrent of fear. Some people tried to understand my psyche; others simply deemed me irredeemable. Holding my ground amid uncertainty and hostility toward an invisible disability I never asked for was exhausting, and the daily demand to function normally often felt like a kind of mental erosion—my thinking would stall mid-thought without warning, even during the simplest routines.

Yet I believe God had a different plan: to teach me resilience beyond what I thought I had. Over time, I learned to make decisions for myself despite the brain fog and the lingering fear instilled by the belief system I’d left behind. After many tears, prayers, and a months-long brush with agnosticism, I returned to the Church for good in 2021 and haven’t looked back since—though that was only the first step. I’m still working through the trauma and distorted self-worth instilled in me as both a cult survivor and a product of a controlling family dynamic.

Living an eventful life builds the skills to overcome obstacles and chase dreams, but struggling without adequate support is something easily dismissed by those unfamiliar with mental illness or suffering more broadly. Still, in reading the lives and writings of the saints—on holy martyrdom and redemptive suffering—I’ve come to realize that the soul finds comfort not only through human effort toward wellness, but through God’s grace and mercy. This led me to wonder how my newfound Catholic faith might offer a fresher lens on what torments me, and what the Church’s rich spiritual wisdom could teach me about my mind’s flaws while training it to seek only the Lord’s peace. I won’t claim to be perfect, nor that my struggles don’t still limit me; but as St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “Grace is sufficient amid weakness, for power is made perfect in infirmity, and so we may gladly glory in our infirmities that Christ’s power may dwell within us.”

I cannot say I’ve overcome every obstacle that wearies me—but God’s promise remains unchanged: He will never leave me nor forsake me.