A few months ago I stood in
front of a room filled mostly with strangers and shared my story. I wanted to
share a piece of myself with these beautiful mothers who attended MOPs (moms of
preschoolers) because I thought if it could help just one mama it would be worth
being vulnerable. The process of writing what I was going to share was another
step in my life long refinement as a follower of Christ. Reliving moments that I sometimes wished to
forget. Remembering the pain of the disease. Being shown again that even in my
lowest of lows God's still small voice was there. He never left me.
In
honor of mental health awareness month I again share my story. Not to show you
how far I've come (the growth will never end), nor to exemplify myself as a
poster child of postpartum depression, not even to celebrate the fact that I survived. God is SO much more than the small speck of dust that is my story. This life full of suffering is meaningless if it were not for my beloved Savior who points me again and again to Him and reminds me that the joyful moments of life are just a taste of what is to come.
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As I was trying to figure out what piece of my
very complex story I wanted to share with you all today the following
statements came to me:
You are enough, He is always there even when you
could care less, it wasn’t your fault, it is an illness, you are loved,
acceptance leads to peace.
You see the past 7 years have been the most
refining of my life thus far. In fall 2012 I left all I had known as a young
adult and mama and moved from Connecticut to Lancaster PA. I was 7 months pregnant
and had a 2.5-year-old at the time. I left my job and became a stay at home mom
overnight. I went from being just outside of NYC to living in a land known for
its Amish, its cows and its ice cream. I was desperately alone with no
community and changes were being thrown left and right… the perfect petri dish
for depression.
Being unable to shake the baby blues a few months
after giving birth to my son, I wondered if this is just what life was like
with 2 kids. Lifeless, dull, one note, void of joy, sad and constricting. But
when my home started to feel like a prison and my interests in working on
anything in my life besides keeping my kids relatively happy waned, I knew
something else had to be going on. It was then in March of 2013 that I was
diagnosed with postpartum depression and anxiety.
It is a tough road to be on... the inability to
control feelings can be crippling. The very idea that I was depressed made me
feel full of shame. What was I doing wrong? Why couldn’t I just be happy? My
life was amazing couldn’t I see that? Isn’t prayer supposed to fix this? Just
snap out of it. I felt as though I was trapped in a well of darkness, clinging
to a ladder that pointed up to the surface, the numb feeling of sadness
threatening to overcome me and the darkness below ready to envelope me. I was
fighting for my life and, the hardest part, not blaming myself for where I was
at. I was sick. I had to accept over and over again that depression is an
illness.
 |
| July 2013 |
Depression is very good at distorting the truth.
It manufactures lies. It makes you want to isolate yourself and not tell
anyone. It yells that you are worthless. That you’re a burden and those closest
to you would be better off without you.
It was in July 2013 that I had a plan to end my
life. But God had different plans. His still small voice triggered the
courageous warrior woman inside of me to call my husband when I wanted to veer
off the road and to then explain to him what else I had planned. Together we
made the courageous decision to check me into a psychiatric hospital for 72
hours. And that was the beginning… I had been completely burned down. Now it
was time to rebuild. Brick by brick. My experiences through that time changed
me forever and I come to you a new and fully formed daughter of God.
I wish I could tell you that getting through
those intense years meant I had paid my dues to the “hard knocks of life fund”
and all was smooth sailing after that. But it wasn’t… that’s life… one curve
ball after another. I had to accept that I might deal with depression
indefinitely, I experienced a miscarriage and a year ago my husband lost his
job. We now find ourselves coming full circle… restarting our lives in a new
area once again. But one of the things I have learned through this journey is
that circumstances change all the time, but God is forever constant and
faithful.
I want to end by sharing a poem I wrote about a
year after my hospital stay. At this point in my recovery I was extremely angry
at God for all of my suffering. And how at times I felt I wasn’t getting any
better. It was hard for me to sing at church and I could barely speak to Him.
One night as I was wrestling with the this I sat down and wrote this.
A Beautiful Realization
You
know who you are
You
see her right there
She's
the one staring
Her
eyes glimmering, Her skin fair
You
see every flaw
Every
sin
Every
shame
But
do you see the girl who is no longer in such pain?
Can
you look past where you are
To
see where you've come from?
You've
climbed reach-less mountains
You've
discovered the sun!
Don't
dwell on the battles that are sure to still come
But
turn your head toward the victories you've already won
God
has been there too
or
would you rather forget?
He
is the one who saved you
AND
He's not finished yet
So
open your eyes my dear beloved one.
Give
yourself mercy...
Give
yourself the Son
Beauty
and strength
Courage
and might
They
have all helped you win
Helped
you fight the good fight
Now
look again
See
the girl who has come so far
You
can do this, you can beat this
You
are who you are
Beauty
HE made you
Beauty
HE sees
And
He is real, He is there
He
comes to you like the warm ocean breeze
