Clinical Depression

Everyone who knows me in real life knows that I am a bit different. My sister Natalie says that things are either the best day ever or the worst day of my life depending on what the situation and my mood is. To be sure, I have an extreme personality. But I also struggle with mental illness, one of them called clinical depression.

It helps me to talk about it. One of the hallmarks of this illness is feeling isolated and alone. There have been times in my life where I have purposefully shut people out or withdrawn or found a way to make them run from me because I had so much pain inside and I didn't want to infect them with it. I fear hurting people and being unloved at the same time. It helps me to remind myself that people are on my side, fighting for me if only I will let them. I am still learning how to let them.

Having clinical depression is different than going through a rough patch. There are days when nothing is going wrong in my world, and I will just implode. There's usually one sad thought that I can't shake and I am terrified to share. From there, I do things to distract myself from the thought instead of deal with it and keep getting sadder. Finally, the pain is too much, and I want to end it by killing myself. Sometimes, the sorrow comes out of the blue from past events that I haven't dealt with yet. That's my side order of PTSD. It gets triggered a lot.

Writing about it helps. Going out in public helps. Exercising, doing things I enjoy, and therapy help. Some people use medication or electro shock therapy to fight their depression. I am desperately trying to stay off the drugs. I don't want to deal with the side effects because I already have enough trouble with my body.

I don't want anyone's pitty. I just don't always know how to ask for help. For example, today when I got home from work, I shut my door and cried, journaled, and put myself to bed to keep from harming myself. When I woke up, I didn't feel spectacular, so I went on a run. Both my best friends contacted me, and another friend and I made plans for tomorrow. I really needed plans for tomorrow. By then, I felt like myself again. But this has been going on for a week. And it does effect all areas of my life.

I have been working my treatment plan desperately and created a safety plan at work with my boss this week to try to combat it. It's been a rough week at work for everyone, but my illness blew it up way out of proportion. I feel bad about that, and I wish I could redo a lot of moments in my life when I have been out of control.

Wellness for me will look like being able to take things in stride, being an active part of the world around me, and remembering to embrace those I love. It will look like not pushing people away anymore and being able to stand up for myself in the moment. Clinical depression is treatable, so I have hope. I just have to remind myself of this when I can't remember and I want the pain to end. I don't want to lose this battle.

This isn't the same as being sad. If this sounds familiar to you, I urge you to seek treatment. And if not, please have compassion for people around you. You never know what people face, and we all deal with life differently. Kindness is a language anyone can understand. I am still learning it. Let's practice together.

Lots of love.

Tides

You won't return
I sent you far from me
By asking you to stand and claim me
Can you tell me why I am haunted
By the remembrance of your kiss?

He writes the most beautiful letters
And awaits my return to his Rose city
He says hello every day
And isn't afraid of me
Calls me lovely

Why do I crave you?
Why can't my heart let go?
I should be rejoicing at seeing him,
But all I can think of is you.

Never mind.
I will go through this day without you.
I will tell myself all is well.
I will find beauty in the common.

And one day, the remembrance of you
Won't knock me sideways,
Steal my breath, and place a lump in my throat.
One day, I will forget to love you.
I will learn to want what's good for me.

Today, I still love and want you.

What I love about Jesus

I don't often go to church. There was a time in my life where I basically lived there. I would volunteer to clean, help with children's ministry, lead worship, host potlucks, and sit in prayer for hours. Some of my friends find church boring, but I have never been bored by it. It's always held a fascination for me. From the cathedrals of the Catholic church where my earliest memories of worship were formed to the hip, catered and carefully lit room I just left a few hours ago, sacred gatherings have been a source of comfort to me.

But I don't agree with all the dogma, and I rarely attend these days.

One night when I was praying in one of these sacred places, I went to the window looking out over the central bus station of the city. I watched the mass of humanity coming and going, and I realized I was missing them. I had always been told Jesus died to save humanity, but I was cut off from them. It's been a slow dance back to dwelling among people.

Why I love Jesus is because He "became flesh and made His dwelling among us." He became a Jew, with a funny nose and short stature. He was born out of wedlock. He was a blue collar worker like me. He was homeless for the duration of his ministry. He used mud to heal people, playing in the dirt to save a woman's life long before women's rights was being talked about, and taught theology to an outcast of society (also a woman) at a well. He was common, marginalized, unconventional, brilliant, controversial, and polarizing. He was also compassionate and forgiving when he had no reason to be. I am in love with this man's character and have been as long as I can remember.

Jesus is not a God for the perfect. He didn't come as perfect. He came as imperfectly as humanly possible. He didn't do it right. He died instead of leading a revolution and discharging Rome like Messiah was supposed to. I can love a God who loves and wants me in my imperfections. I can love a God who helps me when I cannot help myself. I can love a God who doesn't condemn me.
Because He loved me first, and yes, there's been evidence in my life to back that up.

I don't go to church often. I like to think that Jesus is still dwelling among us. Common, imperfect, beautiful. I choose to be among "them." That's where I find Jesus.