Guest Author - Michelle Taylor

Several years ago, I went through some seriously rough times in my life.

My Depression was at its peak (or rather valley), my son with Asperger’s was showing increasingly violent behavior, my mother-in-law had just been diagnosed with breast cancer, and my youngest son (then 2) had figured out a way around every lock and safety measure we had in our house.

Despite child gates, chain lock on our doors, deadbolts; he still managed to get out of the house twice without my knowing it. We called him “our little Houdini”. I can look back now and Laugh, but at the time it was terrifying. I had to call 911 both times to help me find my child. The first time my entire neighborhood was also out searching. Our problem was, we didn’t give him enough credit. While we were searching through the back yards and woods of our houses, he was gleefully walking down the street, going to GranMama’s.

He had seen me make the drive so many times that he had the route memorized in his head. A couple that was out checking out some nearby yard sales spotted him. They grabbed him up out of the middle of the road and called 911. I had been on the phone this entire time with my own personal 911 (calm this lady down) operator. So when she heard one of the other operators say “2 yr old baby found wandering streets” she said she jumped up and yelled, “That’s our boy!”

The police brought him back to me and then inspected our home to see how Seth got out. We showed him the safety measures we had taken, and he said we weren’t at fault. But it did look like we had a monkey on our hands, so we needed to be extra careful. So we added keyed deadbolts to all of the doors, instead of just the thumbed ones. So far he hasn’t tried again- but of course he’s only 6 now. In another 10 years I figure he’ll be sneaking out again – but that kind I can deal with!

But when Seth escaped the house the last time, both my mom and my in-laws descended in force upon my house. My husband was on his way, too – but it takes him an hour to get home. So I got hit with the hysterical but well meaning questions of 3 grandparents. “What happened?” “How did he get out?” “Where were you?” “What were you doing?” “Is he hurt?” “Where was he?” “How could you not hear him?” “What do you mean you called David? ““You can’t keep calling him at work for stuff like this, he’ll lose his job!”

So by this time my hysterics were absolute and complete. I needed to take one of my medications that is prescribed for me for panic attacks. My mother informed me she was taking my children to her house, and I could get them when I felt up to it. It really wasn’t a question or an offer, it was taking my children from me.

The problem was, once she left with the kids, I sank even further. My clinical Depression is real, it affects me all the time. But top it off with a really bad set of circumstances, and it is like living in a neverending black pit. I started to think about suicide. I had lots of rationalizations for it- my kids would be better off, my husband could marry someone that wasn’t depressed and bi-polar, my older two kids would go back and live with their dad and he wouldn’t have to pay child-support anymore. It just sounded like a lot of things would be better without me.

But then I came back to my faith. Even though I’m not Catholic, and I’m not sure all suicides are going to Hell (I believe that are a few people who are so out of their mind, God will take into consideration each person’s circumstances) I was pretty sure that if I committed suicide, I wouldn’t get to see my Grannie and Papa. So I called my pastor instead. He got to my house about the same time David drove up. After a lot of talking and praying we decided it would probably be best for me to self-admit into the psychological hospital that is nearby. I won’t take a lot of time up with it here. But I will say that experience changed my life. If you would like to read the full story of my time in the hospital you can find it here: Experiencing In-House Treatment for Depression

I wrote this song (below) while I was in there. It does have music to it, but it is still a work in progress. Hopefully one of these days I’ll be brave enough to record it. But I wanted to share it with you guys. I think if most of us are honest, there are all times that we want to scream at God “What are you doing up there?” “Do you even care what’s goin on down here?” “Why me, why do bad things keep happening to me?” I try to keep Psalms 13 in mind when these thoughts start rolling.
Psalms 13: How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, O LORD my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
4 my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the LORD, for he has been good to me.


Why Me?
(The Whining Song)

It’s that time of day again,
Time to be in Your word
Time to grow closer to You.
But I can’t seem to keep my mind
On the verses or the Psalms
Because of the list of things to do.

You see the baby’s sick again,
And the car is broken down
And even though I know I should be praising You
All I can do is cry.

Why me?
What did I do to deserve this?
Why me?
Is this punishment for my sins?
Do You know that I’m hurting?
Do You care that I cry?
Or do You sit up in heaven and just watch me try?
Why me?

So I flip thru my Bible
Barely lookin’ at the words
just so I can say that I did
But the page falls on Luke
On a tale of forgiveness
And then I read the old story again

You see You sent Your only Son
and You led Him to a cross
and on Calvary He took my sins and He bled
and He suffered, and died for me

Why me?
What did I do to deserve this?
Why me?
How can I be worthy of this gift?
But You know that I’m not,
And You gave it any way.
And to that there’s only one thing I can say……


Jesus had no faults of His own
He made no mistakes
He deserved no punishment
Yet He took my pride and He took my greed
And He died upon a tree.

Why me?
What did I do to deserve this?
Why me?
How can I be worthy of this gift?
But You know that I’m not,
And You gave it any way.
And to that there’s only one thing I can say….
Why me, why me, why me?
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