Monday, May 23, 2016, 10:30am
I wrote the following words here on my blog on May 29, 2010, five weeks after Christopher's accident:
”… I am in bed, having endured a bad day. I don't have a good excuse or reason for my bad day. It simply was. I have taken an Ambien and consumed a glass of wine in search of the ever-elusive sleep. I am not sure why I haven't been sleeping lately. One would think that once my boy and I were home, under the same familiar roof and resting in the comfort of our own beds that sleep would be my friend. But alas, it has not been friendly at all.”
In my 2010 Christmas letter, I spoke for the first time of the fact that everything came crashing down for me shortly after Christopher returned home from the hospital. Although I had been warned of it by his Doctor, it happened quickly, and I was slow to acknowledge its’ presence. Initially, I called it ‘the blues.’ As I wrote back in May 2010, the first sign was my lingering sleeplessness. Night after night I lay in bed, wide-awake, watching the minutes tick by. My days became a blur. The fog in which I was living caused me to be a bystander in my own home, with life happening all around me. Engaging with family and friends took so much effort. As my days wore on, the darkness grew. I cried endlessly and felt despair and hopelessness that I had never known. These thoughts and feelings were new to me and I was perplexed by the power of them.
The storm I had entered was all consuming, and I couldn’t fight it. The drive to do so simply wasn’t there. In some twisted way, the deeper I sank into my depression, the more comfortable that darkness felt. Don’t get me wrong… I hated being there. I cried out for it to end and it was painful knowing how I was hurting my family. I became isolated, lonely and terrified and found comfort by existing in my mind. I became a slave to my thoughts. I jumped from one thought to another with abandon and could not settle myself down enough to focus (which I now know is the reason for my inability to read and write). But I was powerless to do anything about it, and I discovered that it somehow felt good to feel bad.
Although I speak of my depression as something that happened in the past, it is very much alive and well today. My recent divorce has pummeled me back into the throes of it. The darkness is still all around me. My feelings of despair are overwhelming at times, and I continue to live in the midst of the storm. I've told only a handful of people about my depression, not because I am ashamed of it, but because it was a battle that I chose to keep private until now.
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| My wonderful kids, Nicholas, Berenice, Emily, Christopher and me |
I am blessed to have family and friends who love me enough to stand by me, and it was because of their persistent encouragement that I sought help. The road to recovery however, is long and arduous. There is no simple fix for something as profound as depression. Medication helps, but that’s all it does… it helps (and it didn't work for me)! Counseling is like a breath of fresh air. This is what I said to a friend one day,
“I just finished my session and I noted two things. First of all, when I enter her office it is as though I am walking into a sanctuary. And secondly, when I walk out of her office, I feel a strong sense of peace and confidence. I feel so empowered.”
The fog was slowly beginning to lift and on the morning before my hospitalization in December of 2010 for a Multiple Massive Pulmonary Emboli, I felt as though I was gradually coming back… a little more energy… a little more positive. Unfortunately, my brush with death and then the failure of my marriage took me a few steps backward, but such is life. This journey with depression is not something I ever anticipated happening. I mean, really, depression? After Christopher’s miraculous recovery, I thought everything would be great. And when I learned of the seriousness of my illness and how fortunate I was to have escaped death, I once again mistakenly expected to be living as though I was on a beautiful high. But I guess that’s not how real life works. No, real life is wonderful, horrible, joyous and painful. It is full of surprises… some that we wish for and others that we would prefer to never cognize.
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| My brothers, Scott, Mark, Ken and me |
As I begin to heal, I am finding that I occasionally open up, but I am learning to be gentle with myself. There are still more bad days than good. Those bad days are really ugly. I close myself off from the world, bury myself deep inside, and simply pray that I am able to get through them in one piece without causing too much pain for my loved ones. On a good day though, I am a vessel available for positive thoughts and the promise of hope. Today is a good day and this morning I heard a song that moved me to tears. It reminded me of an e-mail I received from my friend, Gloria as I was lying in my hospital bed back in 2010, crying because I was having a very bad day. I included it in my Christmas letter that same year, but her words were so beautiful that I am going to share them again…
“The Lord is with you, around you, behind and before you, knowing all of the most intimate of anxieties and fears you hold… I pray that His peace, His grace will lighten your heart as you let time and medicine heal you. Be well slowly, gradually and patiently, hidden in the shadow of His wing…”
Gloria’s words remind me of the promise of hope and love that God offers us. Deep depression is ugly, and the shutting off of oneself is extremely painful and lonely. Letting God in during the darkest of days is simply impossible, as the thoughts and feelings that consume you do not resonate with the message of love, forgiveness, acceptance, grace and hope that God has to give. But today as I listened to the song "Times" by Tenth Avenue North, I found myself open to the message and I swear God spoke directly to me. I have written the lyric below and will include a link to the song.
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| My loving parents and brothers |
I will continue along this journey, taking it day by day, hour by hour and sometimes, minute by minute. I will rest in the love and support of those who care for me, comforted by the knowledge that they are praying for me and available when I need them. I will do my best to remember that God’s love is over, underneath, inside and in between. I will keep telling myself that He is here through my heartache and here in the storm.. that He doesn’t care where I’ve fallen or where I have been. Over and over I will remind myself that He keeps me by His power alone, that He will never forsake me and that His love never ends.
Times
I know I need You
I need to love You, Lord
I love to see You, but it’s been so long
I long to feel You
I feel this need for You
and I need to hear You
is that so wrong?
Now You pull me near You
When we're close I fear You
Still I’m afraid to tell You
all that I've done
Are You done forgiving?
or can You look past my pretending?
Lord, I'm so tired of defending
what I've become
What have I become?
I hear you say,
"My love is over,
it's underneath, it's inside, it's in between
The times you doubt Me, when you can't feel
The times that you've questioned, 'is this for real?'
The times you've broken, the times that you mend
The times you hate Me and the times that you bend
Well My love is over, it's underneath
It's inside, it's in-between
These times you're healing
and when your heart breaks
The times that you feel like you've fallen from grace
The times you're hurting
The times that you heal
The times you go hungry and are tempted to steal
In times of confusion and chaos and pain
I'm there in your sorrow under the weight of your shame
I'm there through your heartache
I'm there in the storm
My love I will keep you by My power alone
I don't care where you've fallen, or where you have been
I'll never forsake you
My love never ends; it never ends"
