When we first moved to Texas almost 13 years ago, it seemed like it would never feel like "home". We returned to Oklahoma often. During that time I wondered, "How long will it take until we quit saying we are going home when we head there for the weekend?" It wasn't an immediate shift in thinking at all. It took time.
And then one day things changed. I'm not exactly sure when or what triggered it. It was a gradual change of sorts. We had developed a comfort and security in Texas. No longer were we going "home" to Oklahoma. We were just going to Oklahoma. Then we were coming back "home" to Texas.
A simple change in reference that I thought reflected a change in our hearts. And in some ways that was true. But throughout the last 13 years many things have happened. Many things that have shown us that "home" really has nothing to do with our physical location. It really is true when they say, "Home is where the heart is". And when you leave pieces of your heart in various places, "home" can be so many places. Tonight my body may be miles away from here... but my heart is "home".
The first time I remember wanting to kill myself was in fifth grade. Looking back, this was when I remember my depression beginning. It was not instigated by any life event. It was something I was simply born with. In fact, hearing accounts of how I was as a child, I believe that I always displayed certain characteristics of this. What my parents saw as a strong personality, I believe, was actually mental illness that had not yet manifested into anything identifiable.
I remember writing, "I wish I was dead." I remember nothing else written on that paper, but I remember writing those words and putting it in my desk. I had been placed in a class with none of my "friends" that year. I had the teacher I wanted, but none of my friends were in my class. On top of that my friends were making fun of the kids I was in class with (who are all remarkable people, might I add). It was devastating for me at the time. I felt alone. The jokes, while meant to be harmful, made me feel embarrassed. I hate being embarrassed.
That year was rough for me. I decided to quit gymnastics after my Level 8 season. I knew it was what I wanted to do, but I struggled with the fact that it was really all I knew, it was what people identified me with, and I didn't want to disappoint my dad (a feeling I placed on myself).
I began middle school. For most of us this is a time of ups and downs. It's an awkward stage. I had friends, I had boyfriends, I was liked. Many people who knew me then would probably say that I had no grounds for being "depressed". I wholeheartedly agree. This is how I know that my depression is something deeply engrained in me.
As time went on and the roller coaster of my emotions went with it, my family suffered greatly at my expense. I was angry. Mean angry. I said mean things to my parents and my sister. They were my safe place. The safe place I tried to destroy.
In high school, I once again had the life that most girls would dream of. I had friends. I made varsity cheerleader as a freshman. I got the car I wanted. I had the boyfriend I wanted. My emotions would rise and fall despite these things. My boyfriend would just become another landing place for my ups and downs. He was the rock in my storm.
The summer before my junior year, I found out I would be moving. A an unstable girl who doesn't like change. This was a recipe for disaster.
Like most high school relationships, mine ended. Not because I was moving, but because I was a walking emotional disaster. At 17 and 18 you can only take so much of that before you reach your breaking point. He reached his, rightfully so.
The day the relationship ended I cut my wrists. I was not trying to kill myself. Simply numbing the emotional pain. I had one friend reach out to me at this time because by this point the rest were no longer interested in the mess I was. Again, rightfully so. The next day, I moved to Texas.
If it's possibly to not feel anything yet feel everything in a terrifying intensely way, this was how you would describe how I spent the next several months. I did not want to go to a new school. My parents agreed to homeschool me. I wanted to go back to Oklahoma so I spent a lot of time back and forth between the two places. I replaced the old boyfriend with our mutual best friend. Not to hurt him, but to feel a sense of normalcy and connection. It backfired. It was undoubtedly the most toxic relationship I have been in. I lost one of my dearest friends because of it, and many others along the way.
As I continued to search for a new safe place... a new sense of security... I took down everyone in my path. I cheated on my boyfriend with my friend's boyfriend. I said mean things to people. I acted out. I deliberately hurt others. I was out of control. Not because I wanted to be. I hated who I was. It was like this life was happening around me. My body was participating, but my mind was crying for help... begging for someone to notice what a mess I was. Hoping for one of those friends who used to care to stop and say, "Let me help you. Let me love you." It never happened. And for many years I was angry with the people who used to be my friends. It took me a long time to realize that those expectations were too high to place on teenagers.
I went off to college hoping for a fresh start. I was excited to go through Rush and felt like it was finally my chance to start over and make new friends. I was sure I would do it right this time since I had learned so much from my mistakes. Well, word gets around that you are a hot mess, and no one wanted me in their sorority. In the thirty years I have been alive, I have never felt pain or rejection like that. It was heartbreaking.
So here I was, at this new place, four hours away from home. ALONE. I ate every meal from a deli right by my dorm because I could bring it back up to my room. If I was eating alone, at least I wouldn't have to look pathetic doing so. I kept to myself until low and behold, I got a phone call from a kid who had heard my name be called during the roll in Freshman Comp. We began to hang out, and it wasn't long before we were in a relationship. I was no longer alone, and that felt good. In time, I also made friends with other girls in my dorm. Insanely wonderful and beautiful people. Things were looking up for awhile.
However, when you suffer from depression you have your highs and lows. I still had a past that was haunting me around every corner. And I wasn't really happy with the boy from Freshman Comp. But I liked feeling wanted so I stayed. I stayed just long enough to get pregnant my Sophomore year of college. Devastated, I moved home that summer.
After having Lexie, I did well for a long time. I poured myself into being a mother. I was good at it. I was needed. It allowed me to not have to deal with the emotions and heartaches I'd left behind the years before. But life has a funny way of throwing curve balls at you, and once again I found myself in another toxic relationship.
When that relationship ended, I swallowed 21 Tylenol. There is nothing quite as humbling as having your stomach pumped. I was 23 years old, and I had been a complete disaster since I was 10. I'd like to say that this was rock bottom. And in some ways it was. I have never tried anything so drastic again, but depression continues to haunt me.
I have been on medications. They made me less angry and generally more tolerable to the people around me. But they have never been a permanent fix. The fix that lets me feel like every other person. The type of person who has bad days for a reason, not just because they woke up feeling wrong.
I am proud to say that I have been medication free for a few years now. I know that this is entirely due to my children, my husband, and my gracious and loving God.
My children need me to be whole. And for the most part, this is enough of a reminder to get me back on track on the days that I cannot physically make myself get out of bed. Their unconditional love sparks something in me that literally makes my lows last for shorter periods of time than they ever did before.
My husband has been my saving grace. I've loved two men in my life, and I think I fell in love with them both for the same reason.... they "get" me. Where my husband wins the prize in "getting me" is that he knows how to manage my highs and lows instead of just trying to manage me. Sometimes that is a beautiful picture of him picking up my slack or him drying my tears. Other times, it is a more chaotic scene which would scare small children. Regardless, he knows where I am (usually before I do), and he meets me there. He carries me when I need it, and he loves me through it. His presence is cathartic for me, even when he is the object of my unwarranted rage. It baffles me each and every day that he chooses day after day (and he has for over 6 years) to love me anyway. He says he fell in love with me because he knew it would never get boring... I think he's just slightly crazy!
Forgiveness... something that took me so long to actually understand. Something God had given me before I allowed myself to receive it. Can you believe that over 20 years of hurting myself and others, and it has only been in this last year that I've allowed myself to come to the foot of the cross with my sins?!? All this while, God has been graciously loving me and waiting for me. And when I arrived I was greeted with the most indescribable sense of peace. He believed that I deserved His forgiveness long before I ever could convince myself of that. My relationship with my Heavenly Father provides me constant healing. I see Him work through my children and husband, and I see Him work directly through me. He is my eternal safe place.
I write this all with little emotion. It's choppy and written as it comes to me. That very much resembles my journey with this disease. I think 20 years of pain is enough. I am forever sorry to those whose path crossed mine in a negative way the past 20 years. I have been a complete mess for a lot of it, and no one has deserved the negative effects they received from me. This will forever break my heart. And I repeatedly have to remind myself that I deserve forgiveness for these things.
There is an upside to every story. With my depression, comes deep emotion. While I get my feelings hurt easily, I also love deeply and passionately. I may be quick to anger, but I'm also loyal to a fault and quick to defend those who need defending. While I may not let you know you hurt me, I will no longer hurt you back. I will cover us both in prayer.
I am in a constant battle with myself. I will live the rest of my life this way. It is the way God made me. I am doing it the best I can. I am proud to say that for the past four years, I've been kicking depression's butt. I know many others have their own story with this disease. This is mine. This is my truth. This is ME.
*I apologize for any typos. This is one of those things that I have written and will never read.
... And nothing but the truth!
The past month I have repeatedly crossed paths with people telling lies or half-truths. You know, the kind where they tell part of something that's true, and maybe it goes with the story they are telling, but may be it's not related in any way at all. Or maybe part of what they said happened, but they have exaggerated it to make themselves look better or others look incompetent.
Anyone who knows me, knows that this does not settle well with me. Lies and stealing are my two bugga-boos! Yep, they just make me crazy mad because they are two things I absolutely positively just do not understand!
I'm not talking about little white lies like telling a co-worker, "Oh what a cute new hair cut" when really you don't like it. While I would choose not to say anything at all, I am (ironically) okay with things like this because I believe it builds others up. And building others up is always good!
It's the misrepresentation of ones self or others that absolutely drives me batty, and that is exactly what I have been running across lately. Who knew that would be the case with adults. It was so bad with one adult I knew, I un-friended them on Facebook. (I feel like a 13 year old girl writing that out, but it's the truth!) I could no longer take the half truths or the blatant misinformation they spewed from their lips. It was becoming increasingly hard not to call them out on this so I chose to just "delete". (Yes, big step for me... I'm a girl who does not usually hesitate to confront!)
I think the worst offenders of this are moms. In our constant effort to compete with one another it seems we fall into two extremes. The mom's who want to appear as if they are on top of their game 110% of the time and the mom's who try want to appear as if they are a hot mess. Both types are rather trendy right now! And if we are all being honest, we probably fall somewhere in between that mix on any given day (or from hour to hour). I know I do, and if we are friends on Facebook you watch that crazy cycle of our lives play out! I guess I just find it really upsetting that as adults, we are struggling with honesty. What is so wrong with being who we are and putting that out there for the world to see?
God worked so hard on each and every one of us! When we spread untruths, whether about ourselves or others, we are not glorifying His handiwork. We are not building each other up. We are breaking down the very foundation upon which we stand! We are all His children, we are all part of the same community. We owe it to ourselves to work, share, and encourage in a way that is honest and pure!
The
other day, my nine year old son and I were having a conversation about
someone who was misrepresenting (and lying about) some things. He said
to me, "She just says that stuff so people will like her." Wow! Slap
in the face! He was right! It is so easy to get wrapped up in how people view us that we forget to worry about how we view ourselves, and more important, how God is viewing us!
The truth is not always easy! We all struggle with it from time to time. And sometimes the truth makes us look really bad. But I've found it's always easier to lay your head down at night when you have not misrepresented yourself or others.
"Lying lips are abomination to the LORD: but they that deal truly are his delight." -Proverbs 12:22
