Let's Talk...

Sitting here clicking on my keyboard, my heart is racing, and I feel a big lump in my throat.  I have wanted to talk about this for a very long time.  This morning I thought, this is the day.  It is #BellLetsTalk day, raising awareness for mental illness.  I spoke with my husband this morning, and he gave me his full support.  Here we go.

I suffer from depression.  To some it may not be a surprise at all, but to others maybe you had no idea.  There is such a stigma behind it, that it is very scary to even think about talking to someone about it.  Through the years of being in evangelical church settings, it was never ever talked about, because depression and any form of mental illness was "of the devil". Bible verses would be shot out of a cannon at you, and they would ask from the pulpit, and elsewhere..."Where do you think those thoughts are coming from?" "That is stinking thinking...change your thoughts!" "YOU have CONTROL over your THOUGHTS"...I could go on and on.

Another stigma is, what kind of upbringing would cause that? Let me be the first to say, my upbringing was great.  I absolutely adore my loving parents, and I know how they love us.  This is not from them. They did nothing to cause this.

When I was very young, I would go to birthday parties, and sit in the corner watching the other kids play.  I had anxiety whenever a teacher would correct me, feeling like something was really wrong with me.  If I didn't feel like I fit in with others, I would not even try.  I carried it on myself.  I had constant "butterflies" in my stomach at school, and I never quite felt that I could do anything great.  But I never tried because of that lack of confidence.  One positive experience was in grade 11, when I tried out for Volleyball.  I was not very good, but the coach chose me to be on the team.  Being a part of that team for two years was what really carried me through. I felt like I belonged, even in a small way.  I LOVED going to practices and games.  I will forever be grateful to David Morton, for always encouraging me, and helping me to see that I could do it if I tried.  If he ever somehow reads this...a big THANK YOU goes to you.

After High School was probably when I hit rock bottom.  Everyone I had known throughout my youth had gone off to University.  I tried joining "College & Career" groups, but I was so uncomfortable, I was socially awkward.  I even would try to get the attention of young men in these groups, which was just an ultimate fail, because no relationship can ever be built if it is forced.  In my desperation to have someone like me, I ignored the inner warnings of that, and in the process just pushed people away from me. So, I moved to Halifax.

Moving to the big city at 21 was scary, but at the same time an adventure of sorts.  I was on my own, making my own decisions. I was part of a large church, and tried getting involved with it.  I did make friends, and I love that Facebook can connect us after all these years.  But even with great people in my life, I was depressed.  The time I spent outside of work was spent in my bedroom, watching tv. Usually family, feel-good shows and movies that would give me a "pick me up".  If I did go out with friends, I was nervous.  I would constantly ask for prayer from leadership, but all they offered was advice to forget about how I was feeling, not to let my emotions control me.

I think as humans, we never want to deal with anything that we cannot control.  Depression is something that I cannot control, let alone my well-meaning friends.  It is easier to give a pat on the back, and walk away, rather than just be a friend who will listen.  This is why a lot of people simply do not ask for help, and never tell anyone about what they are going through.  One fear I had was that once people knew, that they would probably discredit anything I ever say. They would think I am weak, am I suicidal? Can she make important decisions? Is she stable? See the STIGMA that even I felt about it.

When I had Caleb, I didn't really have post partum depression. I was so happy, I couldn't contain it.  I had some moments of tears after having lack of sleep, but aside from that I was thrilled to be Caleb's Mommy.  When I do feel depressed, it is usually a couple times a month when I go through what us ladies have to deal with for most of our life.  It can last a week, or more.  It is nothing to be afraid of. I am not less, or more of a person for having to deal with this.

My goal in telling all of you about this, is that just maybe I can be some sort of encouragement.  We all put on our best face for social media. We never want anyone to see our flaws and our scars.  I want to encourage others, and I want to be part of the larger community. It is not always easy for me to take that step.  It is like stepping over a wild river. Sometimes we need a hand, or friends to call from that other side, saying  "You can do it! I believe in you!" My Husband is one of those people.  Believeing in me from day one, and never being afraid of the real me.  Never trying to "fix" me, because I am not something broken that needs to be fixed.  I need to be loved. That's all.

Please, feel free to share with me, or anyone, if you have your own unique struggles that you don't want to keep hidden any longer.  It takes courage to do it.  Even now, I am thinking of deleting this post (haha, really!). But we need each other. And don't think that because I have depression, it means I am contagious, or you need to walk on egg shells around me. BE YOURSELF! Be free! Being free is not hiding.

Okay. Let's Talk. I am here for you.

BE YOURSELF