a reminder

scrolling through this blog, i stumbled across this draft i wrote sometime last year. i’m not sure why i never published these words but as i sit here today, thankful for the healing God has brought me so far, i am also completely humbled and broken as i can feel the weight of the desperation i was feeling when these words came out…

As I sat on the couch in my counselor’s office this week, a new counselor, over three years after the start of my journey with major depression, it felt like the beginning again. This time felt a little different, perhaps a bit more comfortable because I was so familiar with my story by now, but humbling and defeating at the same time to look back and feel as if there had been no progress. Sitting there in my scrubs because after that session, I needed to turn off my struggles and carry on with my profession and after work, with mothering my two children alone; I explained that this disease is so terribly difficult because it is invisible. It does not discriminate who it affects and does not follow a predictable trajectory. I first experienced the debility of depression when I was diagnosed with postpartum depression with intrusive thoughts and now several years later, my counselor uttered the words “major depressive disorder.” For some reason, postpartum depression was much easier to accept among my peers and family because there was a tangible cause, such as hormones, etc. But now, with no reason to “be sad” and every reason to “be thankful,” I am in fact still facing the debility of a disease that makes no sense. I am a nurse, and just as I must advocate for my patients who are ill to be compliant to their treatment regimens, I must daily remind myself of the same. This is a disease. My medication is essential to my healing. And sometimes I have to start all over in counseling. But the days that feel too heavy to handle, when it seems too difficult to get out of bed, when the tears won’t stop and when it feels impossible to smile, knowledge and facts are worthless to me. In the eye of those stormy days, tossed between guilt, fear, sadness, loneliness and despair, the best I can do is take it all in and accept it for what it is. Give myself permission to feel what I feel, no matter how much I despise this disease; it is there and I am doing my part to get better. And thankfully, others are doing their part too. And God most certainly will use this pain for good, I do believe His promises about that. To those on the outside looking in, it may seem that I could just “snap out” of it or “shake it off,” which you could probably do when you are feeling down but those words and misconceptions are a painful sting to my wound.

and today, i read this and can still identify with every single word. 

“When I get up in the morning, I put on a brave face and tackle the day, all the while my brain and body scream at me that it would be better, safer, easier if I just stayed in bed all day. Every moment of every day I fight the current that is trying to pull me under, and fight the desire to just stop. I want to give in. I want to let the pain and depression wash over me. More than anything I want peace and rest for a little while, because fighting this and putting on my brave face is exhausting. I still fight, though, because that is the only way I can find to manage life.” (read Alex’s words here)