I have been blessed with depression.
Yes, you read that correctly: blessed. No I was not being sarcastic. No I was not mocking anyone or anything. I legitimately mean it; I have been blessed with the gift of depression.
I know I'm making your head hurt, and I'm sorry. But stay with me for a few minutes while I explain my word choice. Hopefully the ache in your head with lessen or maybe even completely go away by the time I'm done.
Summarized Back Story: My life growing up wasn't horrible, but it certainly wasn't ideal. There were some unpleasant events that happened in my childhood and they (un)fortunately helped shape me. As a teenager I went through the usual angst that most go through, only mine never really went away. It grew up a bit, in that it's less & less about trivial matters and more & more about larger life and/or world issues. But I was never able to get past that constant unhappy feeling in the back of my mind. I couldn't change it, run from it, or force it to be happy. When I was 18 years old I finally went to my doctor at the time, became officially diagnosed with clinical depression, received a prescription for an anti-depressant, and was recommended to a psychologist. After a while I enrolled in a 16 month, residential, intensive counseling program; while still taking my anti-depressants. After I graduated from the program I moved back home, fell back into some destructive patterns, and generally screwed my life up for a year or so. After that got old and I realized what I was doing, in an attempt to get my act together I moved 5 hours away to a tiny little (sometimes backwards) island in Canada called PEI, enrolled in University and am now in the process of finishing my first year (yay me). Over all my life is generally great, but there are still days (the majority of days, in fact) where it's a battle every morning to get out of bed. I'm seeing a counselor here on the Island, but there is that feeling that my life is basically horrible... or something to that extent.
But here's the thing: my depression is a blessing to me. I have not been able to see it as this until recently and I certainly don't see it as such all the time. But it is such a blessing in my life. For so many years (and I really do mean many, pretty much since I was 10 or 11) I have prayed, and begged, and pleaded with God: "Please, please take this from me. This is a burden I can not bear. This is too heavy for me to hold. I can't do this anymore! Either take this depression from me, or take me from this earth." I would go to bed praying for an endless sleep and be disappointed when I woke up still alive.
After I was on my anti-depressants things got a bit better. I would still pray prayers similar to those above, but they were more like: "Please help me with this. You've given me the tools to deal with this, but it's a little too heavy right now. Could you lend me a hand?" And on the days that were good I praised Him and thanked Him for the blessing of a day that I didn't have to fight the darkness inside my mind. I thanked Him for the one day of relief because it gave me strength for the days ahead where there would be no reprieve. But even then I viewed it as a curse. Something that I managed. Something that caused me to suffer through life until those blessed days where I was able to see the sun shining.
Several months ago I was listening to a sermon being delivered by a keynote speaker at a conference held at one of the many churches on PEI. He spoke about depression and things like it. At the end of his sermon he read a letter from a very dear friend of his mother's who suffers from massive depression (the friend, not the mother). I can not remember what the letter said, but I do remember its impact on me. Whatever was in that letter opened my eyes to the blessing that depression is in my life. And slowly my outlook began to change, but God wasn't (and isn't) finished with me yet.
Just this Sunday the pastor at my church was speaking on how God answers every prayer, but we don't always see it. And this isn't anything that I haven't heard before, since I've grown up in the church; but he really put a new spin on it. What he said brought me back to that place where I was able to see my depression as a gift and I began to think about it more.
Here's the thing: my depression has almost always led me to a closer relationship and dependance on God. On the days where it takes every ounce of my energy and willpower to get out of bed, I pray for strength and for help. On the days where I can see a clear sky and I am bursting full of energy, I thank him for the reprieve.
Did God cause me to be depressed, solely for this purpose? I honestly don't know, but I don't think so. My depression may be from a predisposition in my brain chemicals (it tends to run on the female side of my family); it may be an unconscious response to some of the unpleasant incidences from my childhood; it may be something seasonal prone to occur when my Vitamin D is low; it may be a combination of all of the above... I don't really know exactly what caused/causes it, and I don't know if it's at God's hands. But I do know that God uses it for His glory.
My depression brings me to my knees before God everyday, either in request or in thanks. It causes me to rely on Him. This is what I would define as a blessing. Something in my life that forces me to see God in my everyday and forces me to kneel before Him daily, sometimes hourly. My depression is a blessing and I am grateful for how God uses me because of it.
'Til next time,
-B
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