Friends, being back here is like walking into your home after being gone for weeks. You drop your bags, take a deep breath, and exhale. Home.
The past few weeks have been a struggle for me. And because I was transparent the first time, and because so many of you walk with me in my day-to-day life, my heart is to continue to share with you what this struggle is like.
I didn’t realize that I had slipped back into an old depression. The red flags popped up, but I rationalized them in other ways. Besides, I was still on medication. It didn’t make sense to be struggling with depression after a year on an anti-depressant. I wan’t trying to be deceptive when I told people, “I’m doing fine. But the summer-fall transition always stresses me out a little bit.” I thought that was really the truth.
But over the weeks the old symptoms showed themselves again one by one, and I began to see that familiar look of uncertainty in the kids’ eyes. I found myself standing in front of my closet not having a clue what to put on. One day, in the library, I began to cry because I had no idea what kind of books I liked to read. And I clearly remember standing in the kitchen and hearing the kids at the lunch table say, “Everyone’s in a bad mood today. You’re in a bad mood, Mom’s in a bad mood…” and I caught myself just before screaming, “I AM NOT IN A BAD MOOD!!”
And so I finally was able to be honest with myself. Depression had returned. It had cloaked itself around me again, the hopelessness and loneliness so suffocatingly familiar that I didn’t even noticed they had returned.
After a phone call and a visit with my GP, I have a new prescription, one that will hopefully peel back the darkness and bring me back into myself. It’s hard to greet each day feeling like it’s another day to spend waiting to be delivered. Like those final weeks of pregnancy. So uncomfortable, so awkward, feeling like your body looks nothing like the body you have been accustomed to living in, and wondering, “Is today the day?”
And so I’m returning here in a spirit of waiting. If you’re willing to sit and wait with me, your presence would be a gift to me. To be my Job’s friends? (before they began talking) To sit silently and watch and wait with me?
I don’t know what this blog will look like for a while. This is my first time every posting something that has not undergone multiple edits and revisions. There are probably oodles of typos and sentence fragments and misplaced commas. Raw writing. That’s what this is. But it’s all I have to offer for this raw season.