I tried my best to talk myself out of writing this article. I didn’t want to depress you. But…
I’ve struggled with depression my whole life. It is a beast that I’m so familiar with that it’s hard to differentiate its presence from “normal” life. It’s just always there – my personal rain storm.
As a child I was called a worry wart. I was assured I had nothing to be that upset about.
For my wedding I was so anxious about being in the spotlight, a doctor prescribed me a medication to lower my blood pressure. I nearly passed out from it making the pressure too low.
As a new mom I was a complete wreck of a human being. Thinking back on that time in my life makes me sad. I can only imagine what I must have looked like to everyone around me. Though, I’ll admit, at the time my outbursts seemed completely justified.
I feel…happy, which is a big deal for me.
It’s hard for me to say I have a mental illness. If my heart or lungs were sick, I’m sure people would be supportive. But because the sickness affects my mind, there’s a stigma attached. Outwardly, if you could tell I was fighting a disease, would you rally for me? Inwardly, sometimes I’m fighting so hard, it seems like an impossibility to know how to get out of bed. I’m up against a chronic condition that no one sees, and most don’t understand.
Reality is my worst enemy, because living there is exhausting. So…
I’m the person who enjoys planning a vacation, but the closer it gets I’m already mourning it being finished before it’s even begun.
I’m the person counting down the hours of sleep I’ll be able to get when I’m at dinner with you…anxious if I’ll be able to get enough.
And I’m the person who feels like I’m dying when I wake up each morning.
Recently I wondered how other people handle these feelings. I think it was even more depressing when I realized most people don’t feel this way (but I’m happy for you…really).
Believe me, there’s lots of self-talk going on up in here. But I tire of myself pretty quickly.
Why tell you all of this?
Please know this has everything to do with honesty, and nothing to do with “misery loves company”.
There are some good things about depression. Like…
I am the person who feels things deeply.
I am the person who’s the “fixer” in my family. I work at solutions, so others don’t have to feel this way.
I am the person trying to make things special and beautiful, because I know what “ugly” looks like.
If you’re like me – if you also feel the burden of depression – know that you are not alone. You are worthy however you’re wired, and help is available.
If you have no idea what I’m talking about, thanks for reading any way. Maybe use this as an opportunity for better understanding. Odds are you know someone who could use your support.
Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. Psalm 42:11