Gratitude

A few months ago I found myself in a bit of desolation (well, maybe more than a bit).

Sadness would overtake my spirit and, without any reason, tears would well. My hubby would come home to a wife with mascara stained cheeks.

No energy.

In bed by 7pm.

‘Blah’ was how I saw the world.

I found no joy in things I once loved.

When asked if I was okay, my answer was always, “Sure.”

These moments of desolation never kept me from prayer. I never doubted God’s love for me. Jesus was never far. In fact, although I did not have thoughts of un-aliving myself, I was so tired I just wanted to sleep with the saints.

At a recent routine doctor’s appointment, my GP asked how I was doing. A moment of sadness crept in; I couldn’t speak knowing tears would start. Doc looked at me with great compassion, put down his clipboard, and gently spoke. It was as if Jesus was telling me things would be okay. A wave of peace rushed in.

Have you ever been sick and doctors unable to provide a diagnosis? Your whole world is filled with uncertainty. The ‘not knowing’ consumes your day. ‘What if’ is on repeat in your thoughts. It’s a struggle and affects those around you.

Then, after much testing and consultation, a condition or disease is pronounced. Although the symptoms are still there, and regardless of the prognosis, a sense of relief is found in being able to give the illness a name.

I wasn’t in spiritual desolation. My sadness couldn’t be prayed away. The diagnosis was/is major depressive disorder.

Finally!

While I don’t delight in the depression, I am grateful for the diagnosis because a biological pathway for treatment is now paved.

There’s so much more to the story but it’s not meant for this particular post. So, why bother telling the blogosphere?

Gratitude.

I am grateful for my doctor who listened and took my concerns seriously. His multidisciplinary approach to healing has given me a support system to lean into.

I am grateful for my spiritual director who confirmed that the sadness was not a spiritual problem that I brought on. She reminded me that God created us as a fully integrated person – body, mind, and spirit intertwined. When one part does not function well it affects the rest. I sought help before my spirit suffered harm.

I am grateful for the small group of friends who have been aware that something was ‘off’. Their encouragement, prayers, and daily check-ins continue to provide strength.

I am grateful for a hubby who loves me unconditionally – tears, fatigue, and all. Who lets me melt into him after a long day at work. He holds no judgement of what I may or may not have accomplished at home due to the lack of energy that depression steals.

Finally, I am grateful for God’s grace which sustains me. For Jesus Christ who never leaves my side. And for the Holy Spirit who helps me to pray when all I can do is curl up and lay in the lap of my Father.

My hope is that others who might recognize a little of my story in their own life will be encouraged to ditch the stigma, drop the mask, and ask for help.

As a member of Gen X, coping skills consisted of “suck it up”, shove the pain down deep, then put on a happy face. For me, ‘Mental Health’ was a buzz word that became part of the vernacular in a woke society… until it became part of my own reality.

But, I am not my depression – it’s simply a label for the way my brain is currently wired.

I am a daughter of the Most High. I am beloved. I am necessary. I am never alone.

For anyone feeling sad without reason, fatigue without purpose, or lack of joy in all things you once loved…

This journey along the narrow way can seem long and winding; the path sometimes unclear and overgrown. Please know you are not alone. There are many who want to walk with you and who are looking for you to join the journey. I am one of them!

Please pray for me as I pray for you!