When I was in Middle School, depression crept into my life, changing how I viewed life. Despite having a wonderful family that loved me, an upbringing in a great church, and a good life, I found myself feeling empty. Some days I couldn't describe what I was feeling because I wasn't sure I was feeling anything. It grew to a point where I wasn't sure life was worth living... But, my parents saw it and they took me to an amazing counselor. She taught me tools to help me move forward. She gave me words for the things I was feeling. Seeing her changed the trajectory of my life.
But, the depression didn't leave me forever. It came back, over and over again. Each time, taking a piece of me away with it. It came during tough times, like transitions in high school and college. It also came in great times that should have been celebrated. It came back whenever it felt like it, never giving me warning that it was coming.
As an adult, it feels harder to face the depression when it comes. I have built up this idea in my head that depression is my weakness, my kryptonite. I have never seen it that way in anybody else, but for me, my inability to push through and be strong leaves me feeling so terribly disappointed in myself. As the ebb and flow of depression hits, I find myself hiding from the rest of the world. I put on the strong, happy façade and wait alone for it to subside again. How can I explain to those around me that although my life is wonderful, I can't muster up the joy and excitement I should have? How do openly share the feelings of emptiness that I have without sounding ungrateful for what I have?
So, through the years, I have battled depression on my own, only letting my husband and maybe my parents see the struggle. But even then, I'm not sure I was ever fully honest. My silence came at a price... It has led me to feel isolated, misunderstood and alone. None of those feelings ever helps depression. It only feeds into it. God and I have spent hours together, with me pleading for him to fix me, to take this away from me.
Over the past several months, my depression came on full force. The small, nagging little moments of blah have turned into a deep, painful emptiness once again. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The couch and I became one... I didn't sleep well. I ate all the things I shouldn't eat, and in large doses.
I would love to say that this time was situational, that some thing or things triggered it. But, when it hit, there was nothing different. I was living a great life with a loving husband, amazing boys, a good job and a business that was succeeding. No trauma, no real stress (besides normal day to day stuff), no big event. The depression came for no reason. As I left it there, unaddressed, it became bigger and bigger. It began to interfere with day to day life. My motivation was gone, and the once super productive me turned into a blob on the couch. I would do what had to be done, I would go where I had to go. I had no other options, but to keep doing what had to be done. My guys were depending on me.
What I didn't do right away was reach out... I didn't reach out to my closest friends. I didn't talk about what was going on. I was ashamed to say that I had succumbed to depression yet again. I was afraid someone would roll their eyes at me and say, "UGH! Again?" The reality is that NONE of that would have happened. Those closest to me would have wrapped their arms around me, prayed with me, and would have just loved on me. My fears, my perceptions were just that... MINE. I allowed myself to believe things that weren't true. I denied the people I love the most the opportunity to love me and support me when I needed them most.
I can tell you now that I am in the upswing of things... I started on medication to help me, as well as processing and talking with those who can help me. This morning I said to my husband that I am actually starting to feel like myself again.
As I am beginning to feel more like myself, I am coming to the realization that my journey, even the ugly parts, should be shared. Partly for me, but partly for those who might feel as I do. Depression is ugly, mean, and down right dirty. It doesn't play fair. It's end goal is to diminish the people that we are for no reason but because it can. The only way to beat it, the only way to one-up it, is to be honest about it. We can't fight things we aren't willing to address. Others can't help us fight when they don't know.
It's hard, people. Really hard. The emptiness, the pain, the loneliness can all feel too hard to bear. But we serve a loving God who promises to always be there, even in the depths of despair. He provides us a loving community to support us, to love on us, and to speak the truth when we can no longer feel it. He also provides us professionals who can work through the junk in a way that family and friends cannot. He even provides the scientific break throughs that bring us medication to help when talking isn't enough.
We aren't alone in this... EVER.