It’s been weeks and I have written nothing. Not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t. I couldn’t lift that pen and start letting my pain flow onto the paper. I was ashamed of how I was feeling, ashamed that my depression swept over me like constant grief. I was like someone grieving over death and my grief was not getting any easier. So rather then writing about my depression/grief, I tried to hide it on the inside. I had shared my illness in countless blogs before and here IÂ am years later and still struggling. I was ashamed, ashamed that I can’t beat this beast within my prisoned mind. But then I realized, that’s why I have to write, to enlighten those reading, just what living with depression is like. It’s not always something that is here today and gone tomorrow. No, mine as lasted a lifetime. A lifetime of fighting, a lifetime of being ashamed.
I have had moments when I thought that shame was gone, times when I felt I had nothing to be ashamed of. But depression is not that forgiving, it will remind me over and over again. It will remind me until it as me beaten down so far, that all I want to do is hide it and suffer in silence. Well, once again here I am, fighting back! Fighting back with the little bit of fight that I have left in me.
My very good friend reminded me of just how brave someone is, that is fighting a mental illness. It’s in the words of this poem by Lana Rafaela;
I Think It’s Brave
I think it’s brave that you get up
in the morning even if your soul is weary
and your bones ache for a rest.
I think it’s brave that you keep on living
even if you don’t know how to anymore.
I think it’s brave that you push
away the waves rolling in every day
and you decide to fight.
I know there are days when you
feel like giving up but I think it’s brave
that you never do.
But there are some moments when I do give up. Moments when I just can’t fight anymore. Moments when hidden away behind closed doors; I just loose it and cry out to God, ‘I just can’t do this anymore’. I guess in some way, God reaches down and pulls me to my feet and says, ‘Now go fight, I am with you.’ And I do!
It seems the headlines almost everyday is filled with issues pertaining to mental illness. One such headline I read recently stated, ‘Pastor and Mental Health Advocate Jarrid Wilson Dies by Suicide’. (Notice they didn’t say, ‘committed suicide’, committed implies you performed an illegal act, for instance; you commit murder). Jarrid suffered from depression and often posted on social media about his own battles with the mental illness. His wife posted on Instagram; ‘ No more pain, my Jerry, no more struggle. You are made complete and you are finally free’. Prior to his passing he wrote a post encouraging followers to remember that even though loving Jesus doesn’t cure illnesses such as depression, PTSD or anxiety, Jesus does offer companionship and comfort. He confides that he had dealt with ‘severe depression throughout most of his life and contemplated suicide on multiple occasions.’ In his summer blog post, Jarrid challenged the idea some Christians have that those who die by suicide are condemned to hell.’
I’m quoting from an article published by Christianity Today. ‘Christians wouldn’t tell someone with a physical illness like cancer they are going to hell because of their diagnosis, he noted. Neither should they assume it of people with mental illnesses, which can lead many people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise do if they didn’t struggle.’
“Those who say suicide automatically leads to hell obviously don’t understand the totality of mental health issues in today’s world, let alone understand the basic theology behind compassion and God’s all consuming grace,’ he said.
We must do better at educating people on things they have a hard time wrapping their heads around. And mental health is definitely a topic  Christians around the world must yearn to better understand.’ It’s then we will be less quick to judge and swifter to be the arms of Jesus, showing compassion and tenderness without prejudice.
I am so thankful for the gift that God as bestowed upon me to be a mental health advocate. Having a first hand experience with mental illness myself has given me the drive, the passion, the compassion, the determination to break down the walls of stigma and judgement that is still so prevalent in our world today. This gift as not come without its consequences, misconceptions, losses, misunderstandings, isolation and hurts. But I believe that’s what Jesus was referring to when He said, ‘If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me (Luke 9:23).’ To follow Jesus was going to cost us something; the cross was not going to be easy to carry. This was not going to be a road of ease, feel good or prosperity path.
And so today I am still struggling, I still hurt, I still feel pain, I still have days that I can’t go on but I do. And for those of you who know exactly what I’m talking about; I pray for God’s grace and healing for all of us. Let’s go on, we can do this!