Monday, May 6, 2019

A Beautiful Realization


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

2 comments:

Mary said...

Dearest ElisaBeth,

I am so touched by your journey and this beautifully written testimony to your faith. I, too, have suffered through the helplessness and hopelessness of depression and am grateful for your courage in speaking out and sharing your story. Love and hugs from Minnesota to one of the sweetest people I have ever known. Mary

Liz Danielsen said...

Words are inadequate. Being open with your heart to others to help them takes courage and you have much of that. So proud of you. Love Tante Liz