Sunday, October 30, 2016

Depression: Leprosy on the Inside

I often wish that anxiety and depression wasn't a battle that I face constantly.  I find myself wishing I could be one of those people that seems clueless what it's like to feel like you're fighting to live. They seem to be so carefree and uninhibited by the deep chasm of pain that never seems to heal.  I wonder what it must be like to live life without the roller coaster of emotions and earnest prayers just to get through the day sometimes.

It can feel like the person you loved most in the world has just died.  That's how I described it to my husband.  You don't just feel sad, you feel things that words can't describe.  Something can trigger it, or sometimes you just don't know why your heart, mind and body want to curl up into a ball and hibernate.

It's not always that way.  It comes and goes like an unpredictable tide bringing good and bad with it. It is a lonely place that is often guarded even when others are trying to bring you out of it.  I thank God he has placed people in my life that won't let me go into my hole and disappear.

Although, it is crazy hard, and I often cry out to God questioning why,  I am glad He has given me this perspective into the pain others feel.  I can often see their hurt when others cannot.

This journey began at birth.  I was raised in a home of abuse, neglect, alcoholism, and mental illness.  I can't tell you I understand why, but I know He gave me the parents I had for a reason.  I have been able to help others because of this upbringing.  When it seemed no one else in the world understood, I have been able to be that person for them.  I thank God for that.

Jesus is that for me and all of us.   He endured pain we can't fathom, not only physically, but in every other way as well.  He was rejected, abused, and abandoned by those he loved.  Yet, he was patient, kind, loving and truthful never insisting on his own way but knowing the Father had a path carved out for him.

Had I not been the forgotten child who suffered, and still does, I would not know that truth of his suffering in an intimate way.  Although I have leprosy on the inside that will not be fully healed until I see him face to face, I will take up this cross and keep walking.

Nevertheless, some days, I just want to die.

That's just the way it is.  I don't mean I'm suicidal.

I'm tired.

I'm 34 years old, but I feel like an 84 year old emotionally and mentally.  The rest of heaven is quite appealing, but I keep pressing on, not because I am better than anyone else, but because of the God that I love and serve.  Each day I am here, was part of his plan.

It often feels as though my husband and I are pushing a brick wall out of our way, because we are the link breaking the cycle.  With my marriage and my children, generations of horrific abuse from both my mother and father's side of the family stops.

This evil taunts me daily.  It's like a magnetic force.  I know it too well-the hatred, sadistic thoughts and actions-beckon me to give in and pass along the curse to my kids.  That's why I get so exhausted.  The battle is waged inwardly and outwardly.

I will not give up or give in, though.  I keep pressing on to show my girls that God is always the victor, the savior, our defender and helper though our nature and the enemy fights against us.  I work so hard, so that they will see Jesus clearly without the bondage I have known before.

Depression will most likely always be a part of my life.  I know that.  I also know that God has given me his Word and himself to center me again.  He has given me a husband that partners with me and has not given up on me even during my darkest, scariest days.  He's given me 2 babies we get to meet one day in heaven.  I thank God for their lives and how their existence brings joy and hope to us. God has also given me 2 beautiful children here on earth that make my heart swell up with love every day.
I fight for my girls.  I fight for their future.  I fight, because this is my calling.  God is using me to change the course of history in my family and beyond.

Anything worth fighting for, takes sacrifice and struggle.   The easy road is often the devil's road.  It looks appealing, but it's filled with land mines that hurt you and everyone around you.  He knows us too well, and often gives us options that take us to places that seem comfortable.  Yet, his deception never solves anything.  It keeps us from living the lives God meant us to live.

The road I was meant to tread was this one.  It's the one where I marry a great guy and have two beautiful children.  I would have chosen to live alone, not get too close to anyone and immerse myself in a career, but I obeyed God by marrying a man that would break a sick cycle of abuse and help save my life.  I'd be lying if I said it has been an easy marriage.  Breaking bondage is a lot of work that is often messy and heart wrenching.  Yet, the holy spirit has been with us every step of the way, keeping us together and fighting alongside us.

Now, I undertake motherhood, and frankly, it scares me to death.  I worry about passing along traits that will scar my children.  Yet, I see the blessing of my past and what it has taught me.  I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that these children are treasures and not my own.  I know that there is ugliness in me that affects them, and I know the power of God's salvation is the only thing that makes me a fit mother.

I do the things I do not want to do, most assuredly, but he is my salvation and theirs. It is a lie to believe that we are good apart from the cross of Christ.  It is also a lie to believe that he cannot redeem us.  He died once for ALL.  He even died for my abusers and yours.

People have often stated that I am so strong coming from the past I've had.  If they only knew how weak I really am!  I know how to survive, but surviving is not living.  I have just started learning what it means to live the past few years, because I was crippled by my own self sufficiency.  I started feeling free the day I began letting go.

The more I accept the faith of Christ, and just let it wash over me, the more I know true freedom.  He expects nothing from me, but me.

When the darkness lay before me all around and up and down, He is the light.  He is the rope pulling me from the pit and the lighthouse that won't let me drown.

Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul - and sings the tunes without the words - and never stops at all.  
~Emily Dickinson
  

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