Five o'clock brought my clanging alarm and the misty, dark early hours. I stumbled out of bed. The cat rubbed against my leg as I put the tea kettle on. Too early, Soxy. I wiped the mascara out from under my eyes from the night before.
The mountain loomed gray against the narrow strip of pink light in the east. I drove to school as the light slowly emerged, flooding the gray world in pink light. Here, the rain misted softly against the windshield and the wipers on my new car no longer squeaked. They slid silently as the morning hung there in expectation, waiting for the sun.
I thought about a year ago, about when my world seemed to be ripping apart at the seams. About when my heart seemed to die and its life sink into the soil, never to be re-won. I thought about the voices I heard in my head and the crushing weight of despair that some days wouldn't let me out of my bed, that took away my will to live and my motivation to love and be myself. The knowledge that I was an abomination, a horrible person, that I was guilty. I remember feeling separated from everyone around me, despite their efforts to understand and help me. I remember feeling that there was no way out.
And so I lost everything. I lost my job, I lost my motivation for school and quit. I didn't know how to cope with things that had never caused me stress before. I knew, somehow, that this resistance could turn out for my good, that I was made for greatness someday, but I didn't know how any part of this could possibly turn out for my good. I didn't even know what to call it, how to label it.
It took me the good part of a year to figure out how to recover, to create an atmosphere for myself that was safe and allowed me to live without the anxiety and fear that had crept in seemingly unawares. I had heard so many responses from so many people in regard to my "depression." I had heard, "You are seeking attention," to "You need to get on your face before God and ask Him to heal you, and He will," to "What did you do to allow this thing in?" I felt what it was like to cry out for empathy and compassion for someone, anyone that would just tell me that I was accepted for who I was, even with the things that I was experiencing.
The fact was, the word depression did no justice to the crushing weight of death I felt threatening me constantly, in the morning when I woke up to the sweet surrender of sleep at night. The voices that I heard in that season, both in my head and from almost everyone around me, reinforced my belief that I was guilty, deep down to my very soul. I deserved nothing. I was nothing.
And here I am, a year later, and I am healed. I have felt depression flee from me so far I know that it is never coming back. I have seen my heart change from being broken and full of fear that I would never be able to be normal again to fully alive and functioning the way it was supposed to. I have felt the Lord's mercy both in the midst of my fear and on the other side of my fear, where only joy lives. And I stand here, fully knowing that there is a place where depression is no more. There is freedom from the constant stream of fear that so easily overwhelms us. There comes a moment when all the lies that have plagued you-- sometimes for your whole life-- are revealed and you see the truth about yourself-- that you are made strong and powerful.
If you only knew how powerful you were... You would be unstoppable.
The truth is... nobody really has it right. Some say that depression is normal and is just a part of life. Other say that it is an illusion or that it is because of something you've done wrong to deserve it, Some say you should just get yourself out of it.
But the truth is not any of those things. The truth is that you are SO loved right in the place where you are. On your bed, unable to get up to go to work. In your living room, watching TV while every fiber of your being hurts with a pain that is so much deeper than your skin and bones. When you're unable to explain to your friends why you don't want to spend time around people, why you can't see them right now. When you are totally unable to see yourself or anything in your life in a positive way. When you look at yourself in the mirror and see worthlessness. When you self-medicate with alcohol, TV, anything to numb the crushing weight on your chest that threatens to crush your very soul.
The truth is that you've been misunderstood and judged for something that isn't your fault by people who are ignorant and don't know the effect of their attitudes and words.
And it's that you're beautiful, Beloved one, even in the midst of the bloody battle that you're fighting.
I just thought you should know.
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