The Difference Between Then and Now

I’m not sure how to share this; I’m not sure I’ve got the words yet, but I have a strong desire to share what I’m going through. Maybe people will understand; maybe they won’t. I don’t really think that matters; people like me who take the time to write things don’t do so in order that other people will understand, but so that the we, the writers, can better understand. That’s why my journal is one of the most important things about me.

When someone tells you they are struggling with depression, what do you think? Do you see someone laying in a darkened room, unwilling to get up, and thinking dark thoughts of death? Someone who can’t smile and possibly never stops crying?

My first thought when I woke up this morning was, “Now I’m going to have to get out of bed,” but it wasn’t too difficult to do so. Then I found myself in the bathroom thinking, “Maybe I made it all up. I’m doing fine.” And I worried that I was a liar.

The thing about depression is that it tricks you. It can come and go so that one moment you’re laughing and the next you feel hurt and abandoned and you want to find some dark place to crawl into and cry. Then you feel fine again and you think, “Well, I don’t know what that was. I shouldn’t tell anyone, though, because I’m fine now.”

Over five years ago I struggled with depression. It got pretty bad. I’m not sure how I hid it so well but I was recently reconnected with my Starbucks manager from that time and I asked him if I could explain everything that had been going on and he replied that he hadn’t noticed anything was wrong. I had apparently and effectively hidden my depression from everyone around me (except maybe my mom; I think she knew something was up).

I didn’t feel as though I had anyone to turn to; I was alone in the world. Every evening I came home and consumed a bottle of wine because without it I couldn’t fall asleep. I would wake up in the middle of the night sobbing for no reason except that’s how I felt inside. In the morning I would wake up and get out of bed like a robot, going to work and plastering that super fake Starbucks girl smile on my face. I spent the whole day hating everyone around me for everything they said to me and wishing - just wishing - I had someone to talk to. But I was convinced there was no one. I fantasized about death, imagining how much easier it would be if I just ended it all; but I knew that was too selfish and I could never pull it off.

It was during that time that I gave my life to Christ. I have never regretted my decision. Christ has given me life that I never want to go without again. When I imagine life without Him, I can only imagine a bleak and hopeless world that I don’t ever want to go back to.

So what now? I recognize the symptoms, though it’s not nearly as bad as it was five years ago. How does Christ make a difference in all this today? That’s what I’m really wondering. He’s with me; He’s giving me life. So how is this time different from last time?

Yesterday I cried for four hours. What set it off was an irrational feeling of abandonment from everyone. I had this hopeless feeling inside me and I knew I had to cut off all my friendships and stop trying to reach out to people before they could hurt me anymore. At the same time there was a small voice inside me (the Holy Spirit?) that said, “No! That’s all wrong! You are loved! Now is the time to reach out to the body of Christ. Do not lock them out.” I resisted this voice for as long as I could (it’s easier to believe there is no one than to muster the courage to ask for help). Finally, I sent out emails requesting prayer and I called my mom and told her what was going on. We talked for a long time and I just cried.

I was home alone nearly all day. I think that was God’s doing, putting me in a position where I would reach out for help for the first time in my life. I texted Jami and Shelli to see when they’d be home. Jami decided to call me back instead of text me (I think God did that on purpose as well) and could tell right away that I was not ok. She insisted that she could come home and within 45 minutes she was there, just sitting beside me. I knew I was loved. I received emails, and phone calls, and hugs from the people I live with, and all these things reminded me that I am loved.

And so, one big difference between then and now is that I have people to turn to - wonderful, tangible people.

Another difference - the biggest difference - is that I have hope. I know Christ - I know my God and my Creator - and that brings me much joy and hope. I know that everything has a purpose and this season of tears is meant to test and purify my faith (1 Peter 1:3-9). What an awesome thing! I am never alone because of this God; I always have Someone to turn to. I have the Holy Spirit as a seal of God’s establishing me in Christ (2 Cor 1:21-22), which means the Truth is always being whispered into my heart. Indeed, the Truth lives and reigns inside me!

Really I think that’s the only difference between then and now. It was Christ who placed in me the desire to seek fellowship, to seek a church and belong to a ministry.

Please don’t think I’ve got this “figured out”. Right now I feel fine so it’s easy to talk and write about hope and joy and all that; it’s easy to sound as though everything’s going to be all right. It won’t always be this easy. There will be moments of pure darkness when I can’t understand the light and I want to inflict the same pain I think others are trying to inflict on me, times when the Holy Spirit is a mere whisper and Satan is raging and blocking everything else out. But still the Holy Spirit will be whispering and the battle has already been won and I will learn to step out of the darkness and abide in the Light. And through this process, I pray that Jesus Christ is glorified, because that’s all that really matters.

Well, I hope this is suitably dramatic for you. I’m a little embarrassed to post it but I’m going to do it anyway. Please be praying for me!