My Safety Line in Depression

I've mentioned in my most recent posts that I struggle with depression. This problem is not unique to me but I do fight with it more than your average Christian young woman.

It all started when I was thirteen. An acquaintance came to visit our family for a week and become a good friend. When he left it suddenly occurred to me that he would never be coming back. We would never see him again. We would never laugh with him again. We would never have the chance to tease him again. (He actually left with plans to return soon but my premonition turned out correct--we never saw him again). At these thoughts my world tilted. I began noticing just how many friends dropped out of my life, older relatives died, etc. and over and over a question came to mind, "Is God really good?"

There is not a more terrifying thing to doubt.

Think about it: the One who created everything and has power over everything--if He is not good then how can anything else ever be?

I spiraled in to what is now a literal black hole in my history. My mind went numb for close to a year with my only memory being a very bad one of my 14th birthday.

Ultimately I learned my lesson through the death of my grandma. She did not have an easy life but on her deathbed she gave so much glory to the Lord and was looking forward to seeing Him with such eagerness that I knew somehow, God really was good.

After Grandma went to be with Jesus I promised the Lord and myself that I would never again let myself be drug into a black abyss like that.

Over the years I struggled with the blues off and on but nothing that ever lasted for longer than a week.

And then this year landed on my shoulders with the weight of the world. I found myself gasping under fears and doubts I thought had been conquered years before and new ones that I never saw coming.

Sometimes these days I feel like I am walking on a tightrope in a cave with no lighting.

Oh, and to that mental picture add some vampire bats flying around my head.

I am lost, confused, terrified.

But there is a rope.

I hold on to it with both hands as I try to navigate the tightrope.

Sometimes, when I am most fearful I don't even try to move forward I just cling to the rope.

That rope is the lesson I learned in my first bout with depression.

So often right now this is more head knowledge than heart knowledge but it is still the truest thing I know. The only fact I can proclaim with no doubt.

Sometimes, I am so blinded by darkness I am tempted to forget I have that rope in my hands and all I'm aware of is what might happen were I to fall. But nevertheless the rope is still there.

My safety line.

My knowledge that God is good.