The Depression Suite

I’ve made no secret of the fact I’ve suffered from depression most of my life. Fun it ain’t. But you deal as best you can.

Battling depression reminds me of a phrase I once heard about being in a situation where the only way of creating enough light to read a map was by setting it on fire.  You’d better move fast when there’s a respite and the fog smothering your brain lifts, for you don’t know when it’ll be back.  Only that it will, at which time you’ll be back swimming upstream in a putrid swill of frustration.

You can’t focus on anything. You can’t concentrate. Making the simplest of decisions becomes insurmountable.

You’re constantly exhausted no matter what. Sleep is either nonexistent or excessive without doing a lick of good. You vacillate between stuffing your face and not eating until you’re shaking and weak from hunger.   

The least little nothing sets you off. You feel guilty over nothing and hopeless about everything. Hobbies? Relationships on all levels? You blow them off. Nothing makes you happy. Nothing brings pleasure. No one can get you out of your state. No one. 

You know you’re a mess. Last thing you need is a reminder. Yet that’s all you hear. Or so it seems. “Snap out of it! Lighten up! Have some fun!” What, people think you prefer being miserable? You know what needs to be done in order to get out of the place where you’re at so you can get out from under what’s causing the mess.  More specifically, you know what you need to do in order to get out of the place where you’re at so you can get out from under what’s causing the mess.  However, there’s one small problem.

You can’t.

You pray for relief. Some days you get it. Other days you don’t. No idea why. No idea what’ll happen next. Well, that’s not altogether true. You know the depression monster lurks. It comes and goes as it pleases. You know your private hell is close at hand. Yet you’re supposed to keep it together. No one respects your anger. No one wants to see your tears. So you keep it inside. Every last bit. Even as it serves as a slow poison killing you from the inside.

That’s depression.

There’s consolation in knowing one day I’ll understand why I’ve endured this all these years. All I can think of now is that depression’s presence in my life reminds me of my overwhelming need to rely on Christ my Savior, for He alone is my refuge. I pray my battle with the monster will make me more understanding, more compassionate toward those who also fight the insideous one. Also, I know it will not always be this way. This life we now have on earth is transitory. There will be a day, a blessed day, when the monster will no longer attack.

Until then, I deal.

It’s not like I have a lot of choice in the matter.