Very vulnerable post ahead; not a post for sympathy, but for understanding. If one has never truly experienced depression or panic attacks, one can’t understand the isolation in a full room or the lack of oxygen in the open air. Depression and panic so often go side-by-side. I am neither a health practitioner nor a mental health expert, so disclaimer—all of this post is from experience. If you or someone you know is in a mental health crisis, seek professional help. There is no shame in experiencing depression. It is just part of some people’s chemical make up just as some people have diabetes or near-sightedness. It isn’t anyone’s fault, and it is not reason for any type of stigma. Unfortunately our world looks down or with a side eye at those who live with depression and/or anxiety. We are supposed to be FaceBook appropriate and perfect all the time. Folks, that’s not reality. That is living a lie.
What does depression look like? Sad, lonely, weepy, downtrodden? Robin Williams, possibly one of the greatest comedians during my lifetime, suffered from deep seated depression that eventually ended his life. Depression doesn’t have to look like the world is crumbling. My depression is my own to battle…that is a common thought. I would like to believe that someone could look at me and not see that I battle the silent monster. I am a classic example of hidden depression. I fight it every day. Mine is coupled with anxiety. I have an excellent doctor who helps me regulate it all with medication. I also have had a fantastic line of counselors throughout my life. I can feel lonely in a full room. I can be laughing on the outside and barely breathe on the inside. Every day I work on self validation.
I am a Believer. I believe in Jesus Christ as my Savior who was alive, dead, then buried and rose on the third day for me and my sins. I am a Christian who suffers from depression. My world is not horrible; it is not perfect. I am sinful like anyone else, but I am not ashamed of my depression. It is a chemical imbalance in my brain. God has allowed me to carry this burden so I can seek Him fully. He has allowed me to walk this journey so I can understand and extend a hand to others who also fight the beast. Do I wish I could live life without the constant drag that I feel? Sure. Would I trade it if it allows me to help one young person? Not on your life. I am not going to brag about my depression or wear it like a badge. I refuse to be identified by it either. I choose to fully feel my lows and revel on the days that I grasp the highs. I want to feel all the Father has placed in my path.
Today I have the blues. My mind runs a constant reel of what I don’t do enough of, how I am lacking, what I do that never gets noticed, how I feel unseen, unheard. I have secret ways in my mind that I wish others would feed my need for love and attention. I would never share those desires. That feels selfish, but I am so disappointed when mail never comes or little notes don’t appear. I long for words of affirmation, but how can anyone fill those desires if I never share? How can those fulfillments be real if I tell you what to do or say? So I have days that I “suffer.” Some days are worse than others. I struggle with my purpose and God’s plan for me. When I have these days, they aren’t days I don’t get my way. They are days that I can’t see far enough outside of my head to know what “my way” is. My chest feels heavy. I feel weak. Often my head hurts, and I can’t quite catch my breath. There is a subtle sadness that just sits with me. I can’t identify what she is sad about; she is just present. The IFS (Internal Family Systems) in me pictures my inner little girl sitting under a big tree with tears in her eyes waiting for someone to come and wipe away the single tear she has allowed to fall.
There are days that I don’t struggle as much. Those are good days. I have more good days than bad. On rough days, my smile is still genuine. It is real, but there is just a little more behind it than what everyone knows. On the good days, my laugh has a little more lilt and my legs are not quite as heavy. I cherish those days and I openly thank God for the good days. But I thank Him for the low days, too. I know that one day I will not have any more down days. Just like any other disease, one day I will be cured. Until that day comes, I choose to fully live–even with the bad days.
Today I have worshipped, napped, worked on sending some encouraging notes…but I’m still sad. It is okay. I am in my sadness. I am asking her what she needs. I have not always been kind to her. I have been angry and ignored her. I have hurt her and made her worse. Now I sit with her. I acknowledge her and let her know I love her because she is part of me.
What does depression look like? Me. Maybe you. And that is okay.
Until next time…
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