When depression begins to hover over me, I feel an immediate sense of dread. The other feelings associated with it are hard to articulate; they don’t make sense either.
It’s a vulnerable subject to talk about, much less write about it on my blog. But I started this blog to share stories about me and my life, and this dark stuff is part of that story. I tried writing an encouraging and happy blog post, but my heart wasn’t in it. Life goes up and down, and I’m down in the valley for the present. But I’ll climb out of it like I have in the past. These experience teach me that people are fragile, no matter the external, and a smile can hide many tears.
I tell myself that if I try a little bit harder and hold fast to that positive attitude, I can overcome it. Maybe if I keep busy I’ll forget too. Maybe I’m a bad Jesus follower and a poor witness of my faith. The more I push it down, the grumpier I get. One thing I detest about this is how it affects my family. My kids wonder why mommy cries for no reason and gets hyper-annoyed by things that were non issues in the past. Disowning it takes it toll on all of us.
When people I know share stories with me about their panic attacks and bouts of depression, I empathize. It’s tough enough dealing with those feelings without the extra stress of convincing someone that you are not feeling this way on purpose. I need to return that kindness towards myself.
I’m grateful for God who knows and still loves me. He doesn’t get offended by this kind of stuff. Instead He draws closer and shows me, through various ways, that I am not forgotten. I have purpose. One thing I don’t want is for you to feel sorry for me. I’m just sharing what’s on my heart with you.
K, giving myself a big high five that I am not going to delete this post but will publish it. Eeeeek.
“Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.”
— C.S. Lewis