On Depression

To write is to be vulnerable. You bleed your soul out on paper for others to point and laugh. But maybe you find that one person who gets it-who gets you.

"Who in the world am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle." (Alice in Wonderland)

I fell down the rabbit hole without knowing how I got there. One day, I found myself in bed and didn't get up until six months later. The storm had been raging for about two years before that, and then the rabbit hole just grew deeper and deeper.

Depression is a mean bastard. It creates noise in your head that you just can't shut out and a deadening silence all at once.

I thought about all the things I should be doing as I laid in my bed, but my legs wouldn't work. My mind wouldn't work, or it would be screaming at me to just do something and that was really overwhelming, so I just went back to sleep.

I begged for death. I didn't care how. I prayed for a car accident so my family wouldn't have to deal with the awful burden of my depression. I had suicidal ideations.

"Who in the world am I?" I was a shell. Broken and feeling as though I would never be anything more.

By the grace of God, I have a loving family and amazing friends who supported me and got me the help I needed.

Every step, every action is a victory. Yesterday, I ran outside in the sunshine and cleaned my house. The medicine I take causes me to shake, but I journaled in my kindergarten handwriting. And I was thankful. I still lay on the couch and tell myself that in fifteen minutes, I am going to get up and do something productive, but I do it. Another victory. I haven't cooked in months. Friends brought us food (God bless them!) and my dear husband cooked almost every night. But I cooked yesterday which still feels like a giant task, but I did it. I picked up my kids from soccer instead of my husband taking off work because I couldn't get out of bed to drive there. I'm getting stronger everyday.

You might wonder why I've chosen to write something so personal, and it's because I believe people suffer in silence. I have never felt so isolated or ashamed of the way I was feeling and I was too scared to reach out.  Reach out. To someone. Anyone.

"The bravest thing I ever did was continuing my life when I wanted to die." -Juliette Lewis