In the Clutches of Depression

A “lead blanket” is thrown upon the shoulders of the unsuspecting.  There is no joy left.  Life transforms into a cruel bully that shoves aside your game board.  He cackles, while life’s scattered pieces roll off the table, disappearing beneath an old, faded couch.   No one wants to look beneath that couch.  GOD knows what else is under there. 

It is easier to float about in mourning, cursing the unfairness of it all.  In tearful desperation, the bargaining with GOD begins. ”I know I haven’t spoken to you in a while, but if you’re still out there…” “I know I’ve been (messing up, too busy, etc.)…” “GOD, if you’ll just get me out of this situation, then I’ll be so good, I’ll be so faithful, I’ll stop doing those things that I know that I shouldn’t…Pleeeese, give me a break!”

And nothing changes…No supernatural being comes down to rescue you from the turmoil, the loss, the embarrassment.  You are stuck with the consequences of stupidity-or perhaps, simply the victim of chance.  Clearly, tragedy happens to both without prejudice.  

I am familiar with the mind-bending, brain squeezing bouts of depression.  I have LIVED beneath the couch, where the scattered pieces fall, and it is too shameful to raise ones head.  There is no room there for anything else, or anyone else but GOD, and still-He let me go through it.  He promised me that I would not lose my mind, despite having traveled to the brink, where I would sometimes daydream of a blood-letting that would release the pain.  He showed me that these thoughts were illusions. I learned that the persistent pressure to ACT on my feelings was a lie. 

At one point, I was daily tormented by my thoughts.  I was being chased as if by bats flying about my head, screeching into my ears.  As if on fire, I ran through the wide-open door of religious fanaticism.  I thought that I would find GOD there, but I didn’t.  Often, I would crawl into my closet and lock the door.  My young son would hear me whimper.  He would find me, and stand at my closet door, knocking… He would express his concern, asking me if I was OK.  I understood that such an “episode” could be (and WAS) frightening to him.  At that point, I thought I couldn’t help myself.  The tears would come, and I had to rush to my bedroom in order to let out a guttural wail that encapsulated the breadth of my agony.  I was convinced that over time, I would be “all cried out,” and the sadness would pass.  It finally took years for the “clouds to break,” where I could see a way out of the darkness, and into real living.  

My brain was stuck on the wrong premise-I believed that I was being punished for something.  Sure, I would see people around me doing the same kinds of things, and sometimes worse. However, I never got away with anything.  That led me to my next conclusion-God favors everyone else but me.  I was a reject, the “black sheep” of my birth family. I never quite fit in.  Sadly, I never found a niche in the world where I could feel that I truly belonged.  I was always an oddity, and it bothered me for a long time. 

In my twenties, I frantically sought, but couldn’t find, a place to “fit in.”  Instead, I decided to form my own.  I ran off to Vegas to marry a guy I hardly knew. We ended up having two kids and a lot of ups and downs in between.  It’s been over 11 years, and it is a miracle that we’re still together.  However, marriage and family didn’t “cure me.” 

I could not understand why happiness was so elusive.  I was miserable in my present, so I looked wistfully back to a brighter spot in my past.  At the same time, I convinced myself that at some distant point in my future when I achieved some manufactured goal, ”all would be right with the world.” 

Well, I was proved wrong every time.       

Something happened, and now, I’m older, heavier, but happier than ever.  I never won the lottery, I never got the house of my dreams or the prestige of a “dream job.” I never wrote the books I had intended or filled up my art portfolio.  I still don’t have many friends, but I am rich.  I don’t even go to church or read the bible as often as I should.  However, I am at peace with myself and GOD.  I know that I am loved, and I wake up smiling, eager to start the day.  My children are also happy, and they see the mom that they should have had all along. 

You CAN trust that there is life behind the shadows. 

Are you ready to take another look?