being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus
Please Ignore the Girl Behind the Curtain
Winter gripped my heart and held it in its grasp.
I found myself traveling down those dark roads in my mind, entertaining thoughts that most people don’t dare to venture.
There it was, staring me in the face again, my depression.
It steals so much life, so much humanity, so much joy from me. I wonder who else gets pulled in by its deathly clutches.
It’s why I’ve been absent. It’s why I’ve been distant. It’s why I’ve been hiding out in my house, begging those who drive by to please ignore the girl behind the curtain.
I don’t want people to see me. Or it. Or its effects.
I hate it, this depression.
I wonder who that person was, who this person is, what these motions I’ve been calling living have been all about. I feel like I’ve been out of my mind, out of my body, watching a poor woman struggle to just get out of bed each day. I’m watching a terrible movie with no plot, no direction, no storyline, no hope for getting better. But I can’t leave the theater because I’ve invested too much time and energy into it and I just have to see what the Great Author is going to do with this mess of a story.
So here I am, on the verge of a fresh, new Spring.
I have found myself rubbing my eyes at the sun’s first spring rays for the last few years. My ears open to the songs of the feathered northern travelers who’ve made their temporary home in my backyard. I’m waking up from a sleepwalking dream that seems so surreal. I feel all the promise that Spring brings, a breath of fresh air and the newness of life.
Yet, the devastation of the harsh winter that is my depression is very real and very present. It has affected me and the people close to me that I love so very much.
I know it’s been rough on them.
Because this morning, my almost six year-old was surprised to find me in a good mood when she woke up, like it’s only on the most rare occasion that mommy should could would ever be in a good mood.
Because my husband is doing everything he knows to do to help me (because he loves me), but he still feels helpless.
Because several members of my family, who live far away, are making treks to visit me, even if they know it will only lift my spirits for a time.
I can’t explain it. All I know is that the people who love me, who care about me, are all saying the same thing, “I’m worried about you.”
I am so thankful for all of them. Because they know me. They can tell when life isn’t life to me. And they pray.
I am so thankful that I’m not alone. They may not get it. They may not understand it. They don’t know how to help me. But they love me just the same. They haven’t given up on me just because loving me is difficult. Without them, I wouldn’t be here. Without them, I’d be just another buried soul that had given up before her measure of living had been complete.
So thank you, old friends and new, in real life and online, for not letting me give up. For calling and pestering and emailing and facebooking and twittering and caring.
Thank you Lord, for putting all of them in my life.
My coffee mug speaks more words of life than I know.