For the Broken

Brokenness is usually seen as a bad thing.  People want to “fix” you or help you “put yourself back together.”  Maybe we should change our mindset about brokenness.  My friend attended our church’s annual Women’s Retreat.  They were given the following letter among others but this is what stuck out to me.

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My favorite part is Jesus’s glory shines through the cracks.  Your brokenness doesn’t have to define you or take over your life.  If you lay it at Jesus’s feet, he will use it for good.

Yes, I have cracks and they are a part of who I am as a person.  Those experiences have helped me get to where I am today.  I want the light coming through those cracks to shine on the people around me.  Depression is not my weakness.  Jesus will use it as my strength.  There are a lot of people out there who need to know that it’s okay to be broken.  Medication and therapy are necessary but giving it to Jesus is the only way I know to truly heal.  Let Him be your healer.

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Caution: Wet Floor

The last couple months have been a bit of a slippery ride.  I had a freak-out in February and ended up at the psychiatrist’s office.  He bumped my Lex and put me on Abilify, which is an anti-psychotic, by the way.  I think that officially makes be the craziest.  Yassss… but I digress.

He put me on Abilify to combat the lack of motivation and energy.  And it worked.  Boy, did it work.  I had energy to burn.  I was churning out tax returns and cleaning out closets and doing yard work.  And then I just… crashed.  The first time I thought it was the Ambien.  I had a horrible night’s sleep and had to take a “mental health” day from work.  I thought it was a fluke.  Until the second time.  This time I went low, both physically and emotionally.  You ever read about people with depression not being able to get out of bed?  Yep, that was me.  It was a weird kind of numb.  I had to call in for a real mental health day.  And the swing was intense.  One day I’m up at 6 and the next I’m sleeping ‘til noon.  My mood has been going up and down but it really went down that day.

You know, I should be worried sick about all the work on my desk but I’m just… not.  I can’t care about a bit of it.  On the one hand, I’m glad that I’m not worrying like I have in past years.  On the other, I don’t have a lot of motivation to do returns.  Eek.

I suspect the Abilify.  That’s okay, we’ll get it straightened out.  They say when you’re going through hell, keep going.  And I will.  I just have to navigate the wet floor for a while.

Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

If you’ve been reading this blog this year, you may have noticed a running melancholy in the posts.  I realize they haven’t been exactly upbeat.  Even though I’ve tried to put a positive spin on my angst, they’re kinda downers.

So far this year, I’ve written about the horrors of tax season (that’s not an exaggeration), my dog’s untimely death (seriously, why?), my teenage self vs my current self (like looking in a mirror), being persecuted for following my own path (probably paranoia, but you know what they say about that), turning 30 unmarried (and thinking about it way more than is healthy), and my crushing loneliness and restlessness.

So, what’s left to write about?  Oh, yeah.  My descent into depression.  Depression is a horrible disease but it can be funny, too, right?  Well, last night as I swallowed my shiny new Lexapro through snot and tears (again, not an exaggeration) it was really not funny.  But today it is because, you know, Buzz Feed.

God bless Buzz Feed.  Seriously, how many times has it just made your day?  Like today with this article.  Spoiler Alert:  It’s stuff people posted on Tumblr about being really not ok.  It spoke to me because there’s nothing worse than having to tell people you’re “fine” when you are really, really far from fine.

And a lot of people don’t get it.  Which is why I appreciated this article.  It puts a humorous spin on being supportive to a person going through depression.  And it makes some great points.  There’s such a stigma around depression and yet so many people suffer from it.  The disease causes enough shame; we shouldn’t be getting it from the people around us, too.  I feel misunderstood under normal circumstances so it’s ten times worse when I’m depressed and people think I’m just being weird and anti-social.

Laughter is good medicine but if you’re depressed or suspect you might be, please get help.  This isn’t my first rodeo and I know that waiting only makes it worse.  There will be days when you can laugh about it and days when you can’t.  Let’s hope there are more of the former.