Moving forward with this getting real stuff, I’m noticing that the issues that were swept under the rug, are having to be dealt with. (Weren’t they dealt with when I swept them under the rug?) One of the issues I’ve had to acknowledge is the battle I had with depression. It was ugly, debilitating, and I dare say, embarrassing. Coming from a very proud family, with very strong, proud grandparents as well, I did my best to hide it. To be honest, I didn’t realize it was depression, at first.
When did it start? I can’t pinpoint an exact date, but I noticed a shift within myself during the early stages of my marriage. There were days when I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. But I would suddenly hear one of our kids, and I would be filled with an energy…from somewhere. And I would get up and push through the day. (Let’s face it, you and I both know where the energy came from. 🙂 ) The day wouldn’t be as difficult as the night was. My sleep and peace was under attack with an overwhelming sadness; tears for reason, and a deep pain in my spirit.
By the time I would feel sleepy, it would be a few hours before having to get up. On and on, for years this went on, but I was able to fake it pretty well, at least I thought. My Mother-in-law sensed something, and confronting me with it once. But, true-to-form, I blamed it on PMS. Of course, she didn’t believe me, but didn’t push the issue. She kept me in her prayers. And I tried to “keep it movin’.” And I felt ashamed for going through this as a Christian.
For some reason, I felt that there was something wrong with my walk, that I wasn’t believing in Jesus enough. And that mindset was so self-condemning.
However, finding out what had happened to my girls, while I would be at work, and the breakup of my marriage, years later, really sent me into a very dark place. My whole being changed. One afternoon, the idea “came to me” to go to the corner liquor store, get a few bottles, and have a drink or two. I even had a picture in my mind as to where I could hide the bottles.
I almost moved on it, until I suddenly had a picture of a few of my relatives who had been heavy drinkers. And “for some reason,” something in me rose up and said, ‘NO!’ And that idea of getting drunk left, and didn’t return.
This dark cloud was looming and I couldn’t get out from under it. I blamed myself for what happened to my daughters. And was angry at my husband for what had taken place during our marriage. And was angry at him for abandoning us. I needed help, but didn’t want to ask for it. I didn’t want to be weak. So I tried to keep a poker face.
I would go church, every now-and-then, to see my daughters perform, but that was the extent of it. I went to work for a friend of mine, but found the difficult clients too much for me to deal with, and resigned.
By that time, depressed wouldn’t be the word I would use to describe state. Hopeless would have been the better word. The thought that I would grow old by myself was too much. And I thought that I would always have to deal with this…whatever-it-was…for the rest of my life. I wanted to be healed, delivered and set free from this.
But it didn’t come until I started to move in my purpose. Not only with this blog, which I believe the Lord lead me to do, but shortly after starting this blog, I was called back to the church I had vowed never to return to.
There is so much to this, it would take a novel to tell it all. but it will have to wait until another post. I will say that as of this past Thursday, during an evening service, I allowed the Lord to deliver me. Why the word allow? Well, I really became tired of being tired. I became tired of being scared of a feature of being single. I became tired of being unforgiving toward myself. I just place everything at Jesus feet and left and left it all there. I’ll explain later… 🙂