The Miracle Of Working Through It

I want to insert a disclaimer here. The personal experience I am going to share in my words below are not a cry for help. I decided to write the following in hope of offering empathy, vision, or some sort of positive influence to anyone who decides to take the time to read.

So who am I writing this post for? Or to, rather. It's for the new mom, the middle schooler, the benched soccer player, the insecure college student, the wannabe fancy-pants artist, and the jerk. Because I was all of those things. And it is also for someone who is looking for a miracle. Because this is the story of my miracle.

Have you flown through a cloud in an airplane before? If not, have you driven up a mountain in a thick shroud of fog? You never know how close to the perimeter of the thick white covering you are but when you emerge, everything is crystal clear. The only trouble is, when you're in the dead center, you have no idea if you should go up or down (assuming you chose my airplane analogy) or to the right or to the left. You also have no clue when/if you will find yourself surrounded by it again.

Almost everyone I know has had some "brush" with depression. Exclusion, feelings of worthlessness, insufficiency, or just plain sadness arrive on time with the workbooks you ordered for middle school. That's just the way life trends. Some experience it earlier, some experience it later, but those who look at you with bewilderment when you use the word, "depressed" are few and far between. I'm not here to make the case that it's a natural part of life, because sin and brokenness is the most unnatural distortion of every living, breathing thing that's ever existed. In fact, it is the opposite of life. It is death. Still, it's here and we all cross paths with it on a daily basis.

I remember the first time I thought I was depressed. It was the same day that I busted out the screen to my bedroom window and jumped out in an effort to run away. What were my reasons? I think I had been denied something I wanted. Probably dessert. In my head, all I could think about was the injustice of my life. The unfairness of my circumstances was too much to bear. And so I decided to escape them. I was going to physically leave.

This happened again several times. I don't mean busting out the screen of my window, but trying to escape "the injustice of it all!" Hunter, the beloved, noticed this trend early on in our dating relationship, and would scoop me into his arms when I was pouting about a particularly fickle thing and quip, "Nobody knows the troubles I've seen!" this would usually pull me out of my funk and I'd realize how ridiculous I was acting.

Sometimes though, I wasn't just pouting. Sometimes it seemed really dark. Sometimes it seemed a whole lot like the cloud I described earlier, and I didn't necessarily feel sad. Or bad. I just felt tired and I wanted to leave.

They say hindsight is 20/20 and I can see now how, when I felt cloudy, I got pretty good at leaving although I never realized that that was what I was doing. One time I left and went all the way to the Philippines! That didn't help one iota though. In fact it made it worse. I came home even cloudier.

As the years went on, days would ebb and flow. I went from season to season, the insecure middle schooler to the wannabe college hipster and when I'd make a D in Physics or another guy made me doubt myself, I'd spiral back into a cloud. Some may have called it depression. But like I said, 20/20 vision in hindsight, and I know now I wasn't depressed. I was just really caught up in myself! I had no mission. I had no vision. I was living for myself and so I had nothing to live for.

Maybe it is time for another disclaimer. Mental illness is for real. I'm about to get into that. You might be that college student who is struggling to find the upward direction in a swirling cloud of doubt/confusion/anger/whatever you're feeling and it's not just you being selfish. What I'm saying is I know now that the Emily in high school and middle school and college didn't know anything about depression. She just knew a whole heck of a lot about wallowing.

I know because I just came out of the biggest whopping cloud I've ever experienced. And somedays I'm still fighting through the mist. New moms - listen, or should I say, READ well. This parts for you.

Oh, God. I love my baby. God, I love him so much. Thank you, GOD for my baby. You've blessed me and poured into me till I am overflowing, my cup truly overfloweth, because of my baby. Thank you for my baby, God.

I lost myself when I got pregnant and I think that that was God's way of saving me from a meaningless life. Because like I said before, I was totally caught up in my own minutia. I was living for Emily and would have continued to if something didn't change. After Judah was born, I realized that something was different. I realized my anchor of selfishness had given way but now I was floating down river with nothing to hold onto. I was lost with no direction and no purpose. Who was I? What was I here for? Could this gift of a child really be mine? Could it be possible for me to love him more than myself? No? Well then was I going to ruin him? Does the fact that I don't want to change his diaper because he hasn't pooped and it's just pee and I want to save money and not use so many diapers and I have to tackle him because he's crawling now and won't sit still for a diaper change so it takes ten minutes for me to put on a clean diaper mean he will end up in the psych ward???

Oh man, and when I wasn't thinking about the baby, I was reliving the old days of doubt. Stupid girl! Did you REALLY make that phone call? Did you REALLY think they would be your friend? Did you REALLY say that? And then, well words and thoughts just got meaner and meaner. We couldn't use unkind words in our home growing up, so poochie-lock was the insult thrown during our infant mudslinging. The voices in my head were real poochie-locks.

Momma, I know you do it too. I know you say unkind things. Maybe especially after a scroll down instagram lane? This is fair warning to you - the words don't get kinder and they don't go away or slow down. They get meaner and tougher and stronger. And they come on faster and harder and they will punch some massive holes in your heart and psyche if you aren't vigilant. Stop them now before they gain momentum. This is what happened to me.

I thought about leaving on and off. Not the country, but my physical body. I wanted out of life and idealized it thinking that death would be like slipping out of wet jeans. Now this was only in my cloudy state. When I would come "out of it" I couldn't even relate to those thoughts of ending my life because I loved my life! Who wouldn't?? So much abundance! So many blessings! The absolute best man in the world somehow promised me that he would be mine forever and ever amen? My first baby is not only gerber material but easy and sweet and perfect? I felt guilty for ever even thinking that way. Which only added to my ammunition when I slipped into the dark, cloudy depths of true serotonin blockage. Unfortunately, it also gave me the excuse to ignore those dark days and trick myself into believing that I really was fine and that I could handle it. Similar to a chocolate addiction, I'd start my next upswing with a mindset that said, "Never again! That was the last time I'll feel or think that way!"

The cloudy days got longer and were strung closer and closer together. Finally, I confessed to Hunter that I had written him a goodbye letter. I had also decided to write my son a letter for each of his birthdays up until his 18th. I had written 6 so far. This was letting it get out of hand. We went that day to my OBGYN and were seen by a specialist who was able to offer counsel as well as some much needed medication. I'm taking taboo off that word too. Guys I do yoga, ok. I blend up lemon and garlic if I feel a cold coming on and I use an essential oils blend of thieves as an all purpose cleaner. SOMETIMES, natural stuff just ain't cutting it. I was sleeping, I was eating, I was going on daily walks, I was praying, I was meditating, I was doing the right stuff. If you are feeling cloudy but you don't want to venture near the western answers for depression because of what your friend who drinks her coffee out of a mason jar will think, then this is permission from another bullet proof fan to go ahead and GET SOME MEDS!

As previously mentioned, I still have days where I'm fighting for the right attitude and a willingness to live out the day and not just exist within its 24 hour walls, but I've connected some dots that I think can be helpful for you if anything I said in the previous paragraphs is resonating. Let's rewind to make it relevant, and also give this blog post a well rounded full circle of thought.

More than once I referenced my selfishness and consequential lack of mission/vision. This is an epidemic within my generation. Please hear me out! I believe...no, I KNOW this is the reason behind why I felt so hopeless and worthless. Granted, there are chemical and hormonal imbalances involved, but their main role was to enhance and highlight the worries and fears that sat in the pit of my stomach whether I was on an upswing or not.

At some point, we were told that our sole purpose in life should be to find fulfillment and peace for ourselves. It doesn't matter what others think or say - you just need to be happy with who you are. Before that, there were roles that everyone played. Men did XYZ, women performed XYZ, kids did XYZ because those "stereotypes" upheld something greater than the individual. Morality, patriotism, social consideration, manners - these are all manufactured structures that man put in place to give himself something greater than his own wants and needs to live for!

I am NOT advocating for a return to this way of life. It held just as many issues, psychologically, emotionally, and socially as those of my generation. The unfortunate reality of where men and women of the millennial era find themselves, is that once they are given their heart's desires they find themselves in a living hell. Yes, I'm referencing one of God's promises. Or should I call it a warning? That's where I found myself when the birth of Judah cut me loose from my commitment to living for me. I realized a life lived in service of none other than myself was void and fruitless. And I was utterly lost.

Now you may say, "Gosh Emily, you certainly are pessimistic. I donate on a regular basis, I go to every blood drive, volunteer at the homeless shelter, spend time working with children who have special needs, and to top it off, I talk to my grandmother on a regular basis. What's so selfish about millennials??" and to be fair, individuals from my generation, women especially, have been crazy proactive about giving a voice to those who do not have one. They make an effort on behalf of the world, as in nature. We care but...why? Why would you care if all the seals got clubbed and the ozone layer disappeared and every child was ripped out of the arms of its mother if there is no meaning or calling in this life? It's for you! It makes you feel better about yourself when you do those things. Be honest! Really, why else would you do those things? It wouldn't make any sense at all.

I'm not trying to attack or point fingers. In fact I'm trying to do the opposite by sharing with you the story of how I realized that this was my reality. I was living for myself alone. No matter how many "good things" I did, it was all for and about me and I was utterly depressed about it. With no mission we have no vision and with no vision we have no hope. Again to be fair, I am heavily referencing Timothy Keller, God bless him.

Friends, my father in law offered me this peace. When I was down and out I wanted nothing more than a miracle. I wanted something fast and potent to fix the state of my mind and heart. I was trying to be better. I wanted to be better. I prayed to be better. And nothing changed. To this moment, nothing has changed. Because God, in His wisdom and kindness, granted me the miracle of working through it. I get to pick my way along this path as slowly and tenderly as I need and reflect upon each tiny lesson of healing and meaning as I stumble upon it. Day by day, hour by hour, I find healing in my continual prayer of gratitude, cry of anguish, scream of fury, and whisper of longing. I continue to live for myself, but he is tenderly softening my white knuckled grip on my life and allowing me to choose to live for him. What a miracle.