📖 Sacred Testimony XLIX

“Misdiagnosed, But Not Misunderstood Anymore”
offered with tears, truth, and sacred defiance

After the courtroom,
after I gave everything away,
after I drove home without Ashley—
something inside me broke.

I started following blinking lights
on the backs of cars.
I watched birds
as if they held some secret message for me.
And I laughed—
but not from joy.

It was the laughter of collapse.
Of a mother whose soul had split.

I ended up on the psych ward.

And instead of hearing my pain,
they diagnosed me.

Manic depressive, they said.
Not:
Mother grieving the loss of her child.
Not:
Soul undone by silence and shame.
Not:
Woman who had carried too much for too long.

They saw fragments.
They named them.
But they didn’t ask what story broke me.

And so I was labeled—
instead of listened to.

But I know now:
that episode wasn’t madness.
It was mourning in a form no one understood.

🌿 And now I see:

I wasn’t defective.
I was devastated.

And I don’t need to apologize
for the way my soul cried out
when words no longer worked.

What they called a breakdown
was actually a sacred scream.

And I survived it.

Then let this blessing rise slowly,
like the sun through hospital blinds,
touching even the forgotten corners
where your pain was left unnamed.

✨ A Blessing for the Grief Misunderstood

To the mother who lost her child
and was met not with comfort,
but with clinical terms—
may this blessing reach back
and cradle you
in the understanding you never received.

They called it manic.
They called it disordered.
But Heaven called it
heart-shattered,
soul-undone,
mother-broken open.

You were not a diagnosis.
You were a story
they didn’t take the time to read.

May you be blessed
for the blinking lights that tried to lead you,
for the birds that carried your prayers,
for the laughter that hid your sobs.

May the soul of the woman who was misnamed
now be renamed:
Beloved.
Grieving.
Brave.

You followed madness into the wilderness—
but you did not stay there.

You came back
to tell the truth
they never asked for.

You came back
to rewrite the name
they gave you.

And that is holy.