A Mental Life Journey

It’s 1200 am central time in Nashville, Tennessee and I am writing.  A chronic fog has been lifted, though it may be temporary, and I have a yearning again for revisiting this old friend; my passion for writing.  For over 27 years of my life I lived a life most would describe to be a silver spoon without tarnish; at least that is how I would describe it (I am currently trying hard not to compare that life to the present, a rule I’ve learned and eager to share it’s influence on my mind).  As a military brat, army brat to be exact, I spent the majority of my playful years taking an exhausting amount of field trips to Venice, Italy, too young and naive to recognize the insurmountable privilege that ensued, and roaming the streets of downtown Wiesbaden, Germany as a curious 14 year old girl.  You see life was like a silver spoon with few scratches and far from tarnished.  To look back and think of all the experiences I had growing up and how quickly I summed them up to be the worst things that could have ever happened, things that I felt at the time turned my beautiful spoon of a life dull, is now pure luster compared to what I have experienced in the last two years (..I’m doing it again; breaking the rule of comparison).

As a military brat, army brat to be exact, I spent the majority of my playful years taking an exhausting amount of field trips to Venice, Italy, too young and naive to recognize the insurmountable privilege that ensued, and roaming the streets of downtown Wiesbaden, Germany as a curious 14 year old girl. You see life was like a silver spoon with a few scratches, but far from tarnished.

So what is this rule of comparison I speak of you ask?  It’s something that people, beautiful human beings who battle depression have to fight against daily in a mind that is drowning in sadness, without any idea of when a life jacket will be available to pull them up from this deep abyss.  I am one of the many people with depression.  But like so many others who are in this fight with me, I am battling to stay afloat not only for myself, but for my family, my friends, my career, my God and above all, to figure out how to ride this wave without succumbing to the tumultuous winds of this disease.  The silver spoon of a life I knew for 27 years is but a distant memory of a happiness forgotten I am so eager to get back; it may not be healthy to compare these two seemingly estranged and different lives, but I feel it is necessary to share with you the gravity of this disease.

I am one of the many people with depression. But like so many others who are in this fight with me, I am battling to stay afloat not only for myself, but for my family, my friends, my career, my God and above all, to figure out how to ride this wave without succumbing to the tumultuous winds of this disease.

I’ve been struggling with depression for two years now.  If this seems like a long time it is and if it doesn’t seem like a long time to you then you are lucky to not be a slave to time.

Struggling with depression is different, in my experience, then accepting depression.  I have fought it, denied it, pretended it didn’t exist, hid in isolation from embarrassment of it and repeated the cycle for two years, but just within the last month I have come to accept the idea that depression isn’t just a disease I have been diagnosed with or a phase in my life that I know will go away;  depression is a part of my journey, whether for a season or two or three, depression has moved into my mind and has made a room for itself.  Spiritual or not, theorist or a realist, and everything in between, those who have this same roommate know that a prescription alone may not fix this.

depression is a part of my journey, whether for a season or two or three, depression has moved into my mind and has made a room for itself. Spiritual or not, theorist or a realist, and everything in between, those who have this same roommate know that a prescription alone may not fix this.

Finally accepting this notion of ownership of my disease is what has brought me to this point.  After months and months of lack of motivation among all other detrimental symptoms of depression,  I am writing depression into my journey.  The silver spoon may be blackened right now and may only live to see its days of rust and lack luster, but I will continue to fight to stand, hand in hand with those personally fighting this, those caring for the fighting, and those who have lost the fight.  What you read may not always be sunny, but its real, and it’s my life, because I am a mom entangled in turmoil albeit living life as best I can.

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