Depression is a funny thing, in a not-so-funny way.
It makes me not want to do anything, but then I get more depressed when nothing gets done. I know I have a wonderful husband who loves me infinitely; a daughter who is more-or-less the most beautiful and interesting thing that has ever walked the earth; a job doing something I love; and a knowledge and understanding of certain spiritual things that many people live their whole lives without.
So I ask myself regularly, WHY do I get depressed so much?
It is definitely in my family, no doubt about it. And I suffered a childhood of it's unchecked-effects in my mother. I speculate that she also did growing up, especially with her parents' divorce when she was 13. So is it hereditary? I don't know if it's necessarily "in my genes", but I do believe it is an automatic, learned response. The only way I ever saw things dealt with. Get mad. Shut down. Cry a lot. Don't talk to anyone except to yell and scream and bully your kids. And most ESPECIALLY, don't let anyone know you are having a hard time, because that is showing your weakness, and you're not allowed to have any. You must be perfect at all times.
Well, I've tried that...and it's depressingly impossible. So guess what everyone? I get depressed. And it feels really, really good to say that.
On top of that, however, this "knowledge" is sometimes depressing too. It has the potential and capacity to bring utter joy, peace, and personal comfort, but with it comes the pain of seeing those who need it either reject it, misuse it, or both. And when something means the world to me, and makes my heart spontaneously burst with happiness on a regular basis, I want all the people that I love to experience it as well. But then I hear, "It's not for me." Or, on the flip side of that, confess to knowing and believing the same things that I do, then acting hypocritically. That breaks my heart more than the first.
For example, imagine someone teaching you one day a week that you are important; unique; special; and that they love you very much. Then for the next six days, they call you lazy; worthless; stupid; then they hit you and scream in your ear; call you a liar. Which of these are you prone to believe? Most would probably get a really twisted sense of the word "love" and its connotations.
Huh. So much to ponder. But I think I am going to get through this.
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I stuggle all the time with depression now a days - it started with my first baby. i remember my mother telling me to get on my knees and pray antil I felt better. It works, most of the time, but also, sometimes deprssion hits a place where we need more help. It is a chemical response in the brain, and if it goes unchecked for too long, sometimes you need medicine to make up the difference from what your body can do and what your spirit is struggling to do. Good luck, and know that I have been there and am actually fighting my way out right now.
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