octolilly [through the years]

Since the beginning of this year, I’ve been in the bluest, most angsty depression you can imagine. At times, it felt worse than the scary post-partum depression I experienced after a rough recovery while healing from the c-section with Drew.

Those days were scary. Scissors, throwing pots, ripping pages out of books, finding myself in the floor of the bathroom and not remembering how I got there. In time, I realized the “Christian” advice of just committing more to Christ so He would heal my obvious sin problem was very, very wrong and found my way to a doctor. Interestingly, it was a Christian doctor who wrapped her arms around me and whispered that she treated so many folks in our community (the upstate of South Carolina at that time) who’d been told all of their life that depression was a sin problem. She prayed over me and we talked faith and science for quite a while. Anti-depressants were a life-saver at that moment. As was my husband who gingerly and sweetly walked through those days with me.

(If you know very little of depression, or the effect that depression can have on the other spouse, please go read Jon Armstrong’s story.)

After we moved here, I went off the meds simply because I was feeling a lot better and when it was time for my prescription to be refilled, I thought, why not try a month without it to see if I need them permanently or all the time. A perfectly normal thought.

I did very well from August – December. Yes, there was change, in a variety of forms, and the normal stress of life was always present, but I was able to function very well through it all. I had blue days occasionally but we all have those.

After we visited South Carolina for Christmas, and then had a New Years celebration in Maryland, we came home and I slowly sank into a depressed state. I think many different things contributed to it all. I was sick with a sinus infection for a month, I started having asthma problems at night, and with the cold Pennsylvania days blustering around the house and Daniel having our only car, Drew and I have been stuck in the house for 6 1/2 weeks. I think we’ve gotten out of the house during the day for maybe 4 days.

The laundry has piled up, the dishes have stacked in the sink, and for one week, I only showered once. I didn’t even have the strength to take my clothes off and stand in the hot water. And yet I ached to.

Each day has been the same. Daniel leaves for work, and Drew and I slowly wake up and eat breakfast while watching Sesame Street. Then we color, read books, and play with toys. And all the while, I cry. I change his diaper, I give him a bath (and yet couldn’t muster the strength to shower), we eat lunch, I teach him blue, yellow, red, and during his naps I go into the guest room and sit in the chair by the window.

I tried to read my Bible. I tried to read books. I tried to surf online. I deactivated Twitter and Facebook. And I sat curled up in the chair and wept for two hours every day. Drew would snore, and I’d watch the squirrels play in the tree, and see the little neighbor girl arrive home from school each day. She’d wave at her mom and run into the house and I’d envy her ability to skip on days when snow was covering everything. I stopped going to church for a while. And I avoided all phone calls and emails.

Our evenings consisted of Daniel arriving home, and comforting me for a bit before he planned dinner, did laundry, and straightened the house. I’d hold Drew and read books but without the wiggly voice I always use. I tried to play the piano and I tried to sing. But it was as though I had no voice with which to sing.

We finally had the talk about how perhaps I really needed to get to a doctor and get back on some medication so I could start to function again. But in the back of my mind, I kept fighting this voice that spoke with Christian authority urging me to simply ask God what I was doing wrong and that once I confronted my sin, I would be healed of these blue days.

It was as though I had learned nothing in the past two years of my on and off struggle with depression and reconciling it with God. It was difficult to think of depression as an illness that simply happens to some folks through nothing that they’ve done at all. I told myself that if I or Daniel had not seen or felt improvement in two weeks, that I’d schedule an appointment with a doctor.

That was two weeks ago.

And on the other side of that long conversation, with Daniel and God, I am wide eyed in amazement.

One evening, I sat in the floor with my laptop and thought perhaps I could use some of this time in which I was off Facebook, Twitter, and blogging, to find all of my past archives and sync them into Fairly Ordinary. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to publish them all but I just wanted them in one place.

It was pretty mindless to sit and scroll, copy and paste, and create entries in WordPress. But I did read every word, and I slowly began to relive all of these stories.

Part of my biggest frustration in the past two years is that I’ve felt like I don’t know who I am anymore. The woman I was in college, and the woman I was after college is different. And the woman I was when I met Daniel, and the woman I was after we were married for a year is different. And Lord knows the woman I was before being a mother and the woman I am now are really, really different.

The more I learn of God and the more I learn about life, my creeds seem to shatter and I slowly find myself realizing that life is truly only about acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. The rest is grace and freedom.

I’m so thankful to have learned of the sweet grace of Jesus but I’ve still paced back and forth on the question of but who am I now?

As I relived my stories, I realized that I am still the same Jennifer.

The same Jennifer who wept at the piano and in hot baths, who knew to lift her head to the sky, who realized that she was being woven into the story of redemption, who reminded herself that nothing compares even when those she loves walks away from Christianity, who spent weeks listening to Taylor Sorenson’s I Sought for the King so many times that my cd broke, who had days that felt like annoying drips from the kitchen sink, and the same Jennifer who rediscovered the beauty of grace and peace woven into the story of the One who is my Rescuer.

I’m just someone who has forgotten the depth of some chapters in my life. I laughed and cried as I re-read the stories. I rolled my eyes at the naivety during my college days. I wiped tears as I read and remembered the hearts I hurt and those who hurt mine. And I winced as I read things about faith that are simply not true. But all of these pieces are part of my glorious story.

A story of one fairly ordinary girl who met God as a child and had no idea what she was getting into. And I still don’t. 🙂

I felt my heart healing, the sadness leaving, and joy flooding over my soul as I remembered all the times God brought me through. I reminded myself of His mercy, I bathed in His love, and I opened my front door on a cold winter day while crying as I realized that no matter if these dark days were going to subside or linger, that I’m loved by the God of the universe and He cares where I am and how I feel and He’s not sitting in Heaven marking off a list of lessons that Jennifer Needs to Learn.

In other words, this life isn’t a Sunday School Lesson in which I need to get an A+ or I’ll have to repeat the lesson. Nor is life about finding the ever elusive Will of God that even when found needs a secret map or decoder ring to decipher.

It’s simply about acting justly, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God. The rest is grace and freedom.

Interestingly, the dark depression has lifted for the moment. We’ve realized that my being indoors all week doesn’t help me emotionally and so we’ve visited parks at lunchtime, had dinners out in the evening, and music has poured out of our living room late into the evening.

I still don’t know if I need medication but I’m willing to see a doctor and head back down that road if that is what my body needs. I just know that this dark depression I was in was very real and painful and my body and soul have healed without meds for the time being. I am just taking each day at a time right now.

This weekend was so encouraging. We spent Valentines Day in Hershey, Pennsylvania where we trekked through ZooAmerica and Chocolate World (and I am actually sick of chocolate now – and yes, that’s blasphemous I realize), and I finally found myself back at church this morning.

I’m so incredibly glad I did.

Daniel is playing with the band now so I took over his technical/keynote responsibilities. I had to get there early and was around when the band started to practice.

I sat in a puddle of tears as I heard for the first time, C.S. Lewis Song. It’s based off of his writings and the lead singer this morning read from Till We Have Faces before she sang. You can find the lyrics here and below is the video by Brooke Fraser:

We then talked about big hairy questions that make a lot of Christians normally squirm. Things like why does God allow bad things to happen to anyone, much less Christians? Why are their tsunamis, earthquakes, famine, and airplanes crashing into houses? If God is all powerful, then does God cause pain?

It wasn’t a pretentious time of We Have All the Answers and you are welcome to gather around and learn. We just shared our stories and read the Bible and marveled on what is true about life and God.

At one point, someone was sharing that a particular painful chapter in their life had been when a family member was very ill. In their crying out to God, they began to learn that pain isn’t something that God sends to teach a lesson (my dark depression isn’t just a sound bop on the head from the Almighty who is itching to remind me to rely on Him) but that through the curse of a broken earth or a broken body, and through our own stumblings and failures, we do have pain.

We do have depression, ended relationships, sickly family members, children without food, dying dreams, and the blackest of days – but we can see God through the pain. And by see, I mean, really know.

And with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me.

I’m on the other side of the pain for the moment. My soul is encouraged and I’ve written this down to remind myself in the days ahead…although the pain will no doubt come, there will be an end.

My patient husband and sweet son are sleeping right now. I’m thinking I might order Pizza Hut’s pasta for dinner. And now it’s the middle of February and I feel like I’ve lost a month and a half in this year. But I haven’t. I’ve gained perspective and a gentle reminder that He was here all along.

The days ahead look interesting.

Our stay in Carlisle looks as if it won’t be much longer. Because of Daniel’s job, we are 90% sure we’ll be moving to Ann Arbor, Michigan in the coming months. And who knows what other pieces of our story will change. But all along, no matter where we live, no matter how dark my days are, I will listen to His voice in the light of the dawn and wait for Him to hold my hand when I’m singing loudly and full of joy or when I’m blindly stumbling through my day and unable to step into a hot shower.

For I was made to live. I was made to love. I was made to know You.

And hope is coming for me.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 15th, 2009 at 7:29 pm and is filed under Depression, The Everyday, The Journey. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.