Be the Light...

In life, Robin Williams caused us to laugh, to cry, to look at life from a new perspective.
In death, he has thrown wide the doors to open dialogue about the serious disease of depression.

Let us take up the cause and learn what depression IS and DOES, and get over the stigma of it all, then reach out into a hurting world  - in our own communities and towns and schools and churches and and neighborhoods and families - to save one another from this hideous affliction. Ann Voskamp's words in her blog post here capture the hopelessness of a soul in torment, and offer the way from darkness to light. Though she intends her words to be a message to the church itself, it is so much more than that. I hope that all of my friends and family will read her post, to better understand how every person on this earth can be an agent of hope and grace to a hurting soul. There is no shame in depression, except that which the suffering soul feels about him or her self.
Help break the cycle. Reach out, and be the light in the darkness.

I owe my life to the two loving people who did that for me.

Until one awful day in 2011, I did not want to die - no, I wanted to fight.
Not fight WITH, but fight FOR. For what I believed in, wanted, dreamed of, and worked so hard for, when it all came under attack. And then I learned the truth was that I had been fighting against something all along - for years - and when that truth became clear and my heart shattered, I knew that the fight was over and the dream was dead and I had lost everything that mattered to me. Everything. My husband, marriage, family, children, grandchildren, business, home, my dreams, my perception of what life had been and was, my future, and my own identity. I had no idea anymore what was real and what had been a lifelong lie. That awful realization was a pain that I could not bear, and I saw only the need to escape it quickly rather than die a slow, agonizing death as my world closed in on me. The beach was a four minute walk away from my house, and my plan was to walk out into the cold water of Puget Sound and just keep walking until it overtook me. I laid in bed through a very long night planning my escape, after spending 24 hours in the most agonizing physical and mental pain I had ever experienced while enduring the most humiliating and damaging intentionally-inflicted acts of hatred that anyone had ever unleashed on me. The things that I had I heard and viewed and experienced in the space of 24 hours had hollowed me out completely. I was no longer me. I no longer had faith.
And that was when the hopelessness of depression overtook me.

I never went down to the beach... because I awoke to a miracle the next morning.

Two angels reached out to me, one who stood at my bedside and one who held a phone on the other side of the country, and spoke hope to me and reminded me of God's Grace. They continued to do that EVERY SINGLE DAY for two years. My Mother and my best friend Lori were angels who held me up when I could not stand and who emotionally carried me when I could not walk, who refused to let me go when all I wanted was to escape the horrific lie that my life had become. They rescued me by reminding me that God's Grace could get me through this nightmare. That I meant more to them, and to Him, than giving up on. They walked and talked with me each step of the way as I began to take my life back, to find out who I was and to believe that I could have a future. It would look very different than the one I had thought I was going to have, but it would be mine. And they reminded me of my value and worth and purpose with every step. Lori spoke or wrote the words of Romans 8:28 as a promise to me every day, so that I would remember and believe that God had a purpose for all that I was going through. Other angels came alongside and offered encouragement and love, acceptance and healing, in an outpouring of kindness that was to my soul and heart like water is to dry ground.

The depression I experienced for two years was utterly debilitating, and yet very few people actually know how far gone I was. There are those close to me who will not, can not, ask me about it or ever begin to understand what I went through. Some of them have supported me through it, and some have not. I was very good at pretending that I was 'okay' so that I wasn't a burden to anyone anymore, and to assuage those who told me to 'just get over it and move on'. I never should have done that - I dishonored myself, and lost an opportunity to share the seriousness of this disease with them.

Depression doesn't give up easily. Eventually, MORE pain came my way - more loss and more fear and more guilt. I took it in and prayed for strength and refused to slip backward into that bottomless dark pit of despair that yawned open behind me. It was a battle of will to not give in to the echoes of pain again. I had to make myself pray, write, listen to uplifting music and sit in the sun, and allow God take me to the deeply damaged places within my soul - so that He could heal them. I revisited my childhood fears and coping skills. I endured the pain of remembering hateful words and actions made to me and BY me. I cried over the lost innocence and dead dreams in my heart. I mourned what never was, and what would never be. And yet I did not do that alone, because my angels walked that path with me. The friends and family and professionals that assisted me in my healing believed that I could be strong enough to do that hard work to heal. Now, I see that healing. Yes, I still have moments of extreme pain and sorrow - but the depression is gone. The scars remain, but are no more than reminders of how far I have come. My healing journey has revealed information and knowledge about what it was that I had been dealing with in my life, unbeknownst to me, and that has helped me to heal.

I am grateful beyond measure for the life I have now, for the restored connections with my children and grandchildren and parents and siblings, and for the chances to say 'I Love You' to them that I would have missed if I had ended my life back in 2011. My Mom and Lori saved me from death - death of MANY kinds - and gave me the gift of life that I am thankful for every single day now.

As for God's purpose for me... maybe it's transparency about the darkness I walked through. Maybe someone I love and know needs to hear that depression can be survived. That no matter how deep the sorrow and pain, it can heal. That life can be worth living again. Maybe in His wisdom, God will use my journey and story to be the light that pulls someone else out of the darkness of depression. My heart is open for Him to use me in any way He chooses... if it's for you, and you want to talk, I'm here. <3>