Today is not going to be a cheery blog. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t written lately, because I want this blog to be “cheery,” but I also want it to be raw, honest, vulnerable. Today is that kind of post. One where I lay it all out, asking you to be gentle with my heart because the wounds are fresh, because I’ve come to a realization that will, hopefully, bring about healing, but it’s raw, honest, vulnerable.
Yesterday was a really tough day for me. I don’t really know why it was so hard. Sundays are usually relatively easy and quiet for us. We go to church, eat lunch, come home for rest, eat dinner, you know. normal stuff. Well yesterday, it was as if the smallest thing would set me off. I set my stuff down, like I always do, to save seats for me and my husband so that we could continue greeting. By the time we were done with our morning duties, someone was parked in the same seat as my coffee. I, admittedly, overreacted. I grabbed my stuff angrily, pushed it onto my husband and told him I needed to go away from people to collect myself.
So I sat outside, at the picnic tables of the barren play area and cried. I just let it out and handed it over to Jesus. My mess was big, my heart was wounded, and I could not shake it.
Depression is a part of my health history. I’m pretty sure I had some post partum depression, but when I gained better control of my health, it seemed to mostly vanish, until this weekend. I felt like I had been peopled out, like my introvert was in need of a recharge even though I hadn’t been around many people, and I couldn’t figure which way was up. My heart was inexplicably wounded and hurt and nothing seemed to work. I needed to regain composure, find myself, and I was at a loss of what to do. The demons that had plagued me were back, attacking every part of my being. I didn’t want to be at church. I wanted to quit. I didn’t want to greet. These things used to bring me joy, and all I wanted to do was escape. I wanted to be completely alone. You are unworthy. You are unloved. You are unwanted. You are incapable. You are not beautiful. You are not desirable. You are alone. No one cares about you. No one wants you. You will spend your life alone with only your family. You will never be successful. All these lies were bombarding me. I felt alone because people, friends, would be doing things, but not including me, never mind that I never voiced a desire to be included, but let’s be real, inviting myself along is another area of insecurity for me. I hate inviting myself. I hate feeling like I’m being the pity invite. It’s often an impasse for me emotionally.
After finally regaining composure and releasing all my vulnerabilities to God, I went inside to find my husband. Tears were still there, and my head found its place on his chest, listening to his heart beat and feeling him breathe. This is my comfort place. In this place I’m reminded of the steadfast love of the Father. In this place I’m reminded I am not alone. I have a Protector. I am secure. Worship was powerful.
I’d never heard this song (“The Simple Gospel” by United Pursuit) before yesterday, or at least, not that I remember. Yet it was a part of the worship set yesterday. And I cried listening to it. I may not have been told these things by another person, but it’s often a part of my internal dialogue, something I know I need to surrender to Him.
I would love to say that this song brought healing immediately, and that as soon as I surrendered, depression no longer had a grip on me. I want to say that. I want to be free of my inner critic, but right now, that’s not where I am. For some people, healing from depression comes immediately and is amazing, and for others, it’s a process, a long, hard, never ending process, and I’m there in the midst of it. The healing has started. I finally am capable of admitting this is my struggle. I’m not letting this disease silence me.
And today, and everyday, I will surrender this to Him, because this load isn’t one I can carry alone.
In Him, -Karen
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