On Depression

I've had a couple of responses to a comment that I might share some of my journey through depression here, so I'm going to give it a go. I don't promise to be very organized or anything. I may not often share in a way that is practical (if I tend toward poetic prose and that's not your thing, bear with me, I may one day share something actually useful). And, this is only one person's journey. One type of depression, one expression of that. I don't know anything else about depression and I can't pretend to know exactly what anyone else is feeling. Someone else's thoughts and experiences could be as different from mine as night and day. If you are trying to help a friend suffering from depression, Pray, Pray, Pray. Rely on the Holy Spirit to guide you.

I don't know how much I can share today, it's been one of those days... I was just planning on sticking a couple of old journal entries here today, but they are on the computer and I seem to be missing the program that allows me to open any of my documents (that being the program the documents were created on. Don't ask.) So...

Everything hurts and nothing matters. I don't care. But that's a lie. A lie that's a pathetic attempt to avert some of the pain. I couldn't tell you what is causing the pain, I can only tell you how it feels. Just be happy, you say? Just let it go. Rely on Jesus. You have a good life, a beautiful family, just be happy. You've never been where I am if you believe that is possible for me. The pain is physical, crushing my chest. My heart throbs and I can barely breathe. Sometimes I can barely move. Walking is an effort. Talking is worse. The pain throbs out the sharpest in joyful moments. I feel I am suffocating. I hate myself. I hate myself more than you can know. I am nothing. Worse than nothing, I am causing my family pain and there is no end in sight.

The fear that overwhelms me every time my kids are sick is growing. I panic now every time. It's been too long, too difficult. Two or three times a month for the past two and a half years we've been ill. Not just a little sniffle. Serious colds, sinus infections, influenza, tonsillitis, stomach flu. In the spring there are allergies, in the summer smoke from forest fires, in the fall asthma attacks from the sudden damp. We hardly go a few days between recovering from one thing and coming down with another. And the fear grows. And the condemnation. Self-condemnation I would have said at the time. If only I wasn't afraid, I could conquer this. Tell the enemy to get lost. But the fear takes all the authority out of my words. I'm sure God is disappointed with me. If only I could trust Him enough the fear would go and I would be able to do something for Him, be used by Him the way I long to be... I Hate how afraid I am. I hate myself. And there is no end in sight.