An Extravert With Depression

Depression sucks. Like, really REALLY sucks. I come by it honestly though I guess. It's one of my less charming attributes I inherited from my Dad. I'm sure if he could have picked and chosen what to pass along he would have skipped over that one. Genetics can suck sometimes too.

People are always shocked when they find out I battle depression. "I never would have guessed." they say. "You're always so happy and upbeat!" And I am. Usually. And not everyone that knows me knows this part of my story. I mean it's not exactly something that just comes up in everyday conversation. "Hi. I'm Stephanie. Nice to meet you. You have kids? Me too! I also suffer from chronic depression and had to go on an antidepressant so I wouldn't hurt myself or someone else." Yeah, that wouldn't be awkward AT. ALL.

But sometimes it comes up in relevant conversations and I will share some of my story. I have found that secrets hold me in fear and when I bring them into the light, fear looses it's grip on me and sometimes those around me too. Intimacy has been the word I've scribbled in the top right corner my prayer journal for 2016. At it's core, intimacy is about ME sharing myself with you (if I perceive you to be a trustworthy person). Intimacy = In To Me See. When I let you see into the heart of me, sometimes you recognize pieces of yourself and a connection is made that severs the cords of isolation and hopelessness.

97% of the time I am mentally stable, happy, satisfied with life and coping normally with the ups and downs of everyday living just fine. But that other 3% of the time is a whole different story. It hits me out of nowhere. No warning. No pattern. No stressful life event that I can point to as a trigger. I go from happy housewife one moment to hearing a voice in my head the next moment suggesting how I could go about hurting myself or my children. This voice comes on it's own accord, on it's own timetable and it is scary as hell when it happens. I DO NOT want to hurt myself or my children. Let me make that perfectly clear. I am NOT demon possessed. I am a Christian and I cannot be filled with both God and Satan at the same time. Light and dark cannot co-exist. We're not even going to go there, Ok? I have a chemical imbalance in my brain that causes this specific type of depression with these suggestive voices. I am not crazy and I am not alone in my struggle with this. Exercise, fresh air, clean eating, no sugar, no caffeine, prayer, singing worship songs, journaling and anything else I could think of were not enough to manage my condition. It's a sickness of my body just like diabetes or cancer and I needed help before something bad happened. I had to give myself permission to ask for help. I had to give myself permission to go on an antidepressant and it made such a world of difference when I finally did.

I still don't like being alone. The voice still isn't completely gone but it's less frequent and is usually more of a whisper of a whisper that's fairly easy to brush off. The voice comes when I'm alone. Like when I'm waking up, or going to sleep. Times when my mind is not busy with other things.

Because of this it's quite scary for me to be without my kids for the month of June while they're in TN with my family. It means quite a bit of alone time and I'm scared of being alone because I'm scared of the voice in my head. I was scared the voice would come back while they were gone. And you know what? It did come back. And I was alone. I was trying to go to sleep and it wasn't just a whisper this time. "The kids aren't here to find you. Matt's gone for the night. You could go in the bathtub and contain the mess." It's terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. I put my hands to my heart, took deep breaths and repeated over and over "I am safe in my own home. I am loved. I am safe in my own home. I am loved." until I somehow fell asleep.

Let me say it again. I. DO. NOT. WANT. TO. DIE. This is not something I desire in the slightest. I love my life. I love my husband. I love my kids. I love my friends. I love my church. I love my home. I love my pets. I love my job. Every time this happens I'm always very shaken up and emotional and drained for a few days after. It feels like being brutally assaulted in the most intimate way and I can't escape or keep it from happening again because it's coming from a short circuit in my own head. So I live with an acute, underlying fear of "the next time."

For a very long time I wouldn't tell anyone about the voice and what it said. I thought I was alone. I thought I was crazy. I thought people would think less of me. But I'm not staying trapped in fear and silence any longer. I share with my husband and take comfort and safety in his presence and in his arms. I have permission from my doctor to increase my dose of medication if I feel it necessary so I have done that as well. I felt it necessary to share my story today as an act of self care. Darkness can't stay where light is allowed to shine in. I hope that by allowing "Into Me You See" someone might find understanding and hope for either themselves or someone they know who is walking the same path.

I am safe. I am loved and I am not alone.

 

¹¹ For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11 New International Version (NIV)