-Would having someone here have helped?
-Would any amount of support have gotten me through this one?
-I feel like they would all be fine without me-obviously-but these weeks just prove it to me.
-Why am I always the burden?
-What do I do now?
I found these questions and statement in a note that I had written on July 30, 2019. This was one of the hard weeks. I felt lonely, scared, lost, hopeless, unloved. It was a dark and a scary place.
I often took to writing to try and keep myself out of my head. I would write out my prayers so that I could stay focused, I wrote letters to people whom I felt had neglected or hurt me (I never actually sent any of them). This particular note I remember I had written out as a prayer. These were questions I was asking Heavenly Father.
Often times people of faith have a hard time understanding people with depression because they feel like if we would just turn to Jesus and give Him our burdens, all things will be made right–that faith could pull us out of these pits if we just had enough of it.
I was of that same belief. And so I prayed, and I pled, and I fasted, and I studied, and cried. And when I didn’t receive relief I felt even more like a failure. Obviously I hadn’t made enough good choices for His help. I was unworthy.
As I look back, almost a whole year from that time (🙌🙌🙌) I see SO MANY LIES. (I will only address a few here).
I was not alone. I was not unworthy. It wasn’t my doing. God’s been by me all along.
They funny thing about these particular questions is that none of the people I was referring to had any idea that something was wrong. Ok, maybe one or two. But my depression had convinced me that the people I loved not only knew about my darkness and loneliness but that they didn’t care.
The day I opened up about suicide was the day I realized they had no idea.
If you are feeling so sad, and if depression is telling you that everyone you love knows about it and they just don’t care:
DON’T BELIEVE THE LIES.
Open up. Ask for help. Let people love you.
My son burned his hand this last weekend and he didn’t tell me. MY TWO YEAR OLD #momfail. So he suffered it without any consolation or pain relief or anything because he was afraid of a bandaid.
How ridiculous is that? Very. So is staying quiet when you’re drowning in your own mind.
