An Inflated Giant Called Depression (Personal Essay)

From the time I was 8 years old, I learned to suppress my emotions. It was as if I had taken my heart, with all of the feelings and my mind, with all of it’s thoughts and put it under a series of locks and keys. burying them so far out of sight and I did this out of fear.

The fear that someone would know me, see me and not like what was there. The fear of exposing my scars, my battle wounds, my thoughts. The fear that by speaking my story out loud, I was betraying my exterior and giving notice to the cracks beneath the surface.

If there is one emotion that I am most familiar with, it is pain. I haven’t just visited Hell, I have walked through it and come out on the other side. Experiences like these, they change you and I am no longer the person that I was. I have had my heart broken more times than I can count. I have had people brutally attempt to crush my spirit. I have had negative words spoken over my life, not just once but on more than one occasion. I have felt the crushing blow of betrayal and experienced moments where my knees could no longer hold me, forcing me to buckle under the weight of it all and I have survived.

See silence has always been louder than my words, an almost deafening contrast, when you consider that there is a powerful earthquake running through my veins.

I did not realize that by doing such, I was really harming myself. As a human being it is inevitable that we will experience pain but how choose to address this pain, how we choose to express it, largely determines our ability to overcome it.

Pandemonium, Fear, Anxiety, Depression, Trauma, Rejection.

Every single one of these words, harbours a chapter of my story. Every single one of these words, has been affixed to my spirit. I have had hands brutally assault my flesh and words used against me.

I know what it feels like to live under mental and spiritual asphyxiation. Feeling alone, feeling stuck, feeling trapped these are not foreign to me. They are the notes to the song that is my life. I have cried behind more closed doors than I can count, felt my body tremble, under duress, travelled a bitter road alone, armed with only my faith, to sustain me and I have prayed harder, than I ever thought possible. Looked out over the canvas of my life and asked these questions.

I have walked an empty road at 3 am, clutching the edges of my jacket for warmth and honestly wondered if anyone would see me here, on this forgotten street. I know what it’s like to wait for a phone call that never arrives. I’ve luxuriated in moments of surrender, allowing my armour to come down, only to have someone prod through my insecurity, as if my confidence were the pawn on the chess board and I was really bound for capture.

I am familiar with feeling of ink bleeding through the paper, from pressing down to hard, simply because it felt as if this, was the only place in the world, where I could tell my story. I have shifted through poverty and becoming a fatherless daughter and back again to the long difficult road of reconciliation.

I have looked into the eyes of my daughter, and tried to shelter her from the fact that some days, my wallet is worn through. Hoping that If I can distract her, make her laugh, then perhaps it will be enough to protect from all of those fingers clawing at my front door. Hoping that she won’t see the bleak reality, that somedays the future weighs heavily, rocks back and forth across my chest like the pendulum swinging from a clock, where time pounds like a broken heart beat.

But above all I have asked these questions.

.

Does God really love me?

Am I lovable?

Are all of these storms simply the universe punishing me?

Do I deserve it?

.

I have pondered these burning thoughts,

Looked further into my existence and asked

Am I beautiful?

Am I worthy?

Do I have a purpose?

.

And somedays the answer is emphatic

and I know that I am loved,

that I am worthy and that yes,

God does love me

and yes my life has meaning.

.

And other days the depression piles so high

I find myself at war with myself.

The lie being whispered into my ear

feeding my self doubt,

telling me just the opposite of what I know to be true.

.

I wish I could tell you that I have already won my battle

and that I have miraculously overcome.

but it wouldn’t be true.

.

What is true is that I keep fighting,

Every day that I wake up and push through the emotion, is a success.

Every day that I take my depression

and shake it, put it in the corner for a time out

is simply me becoming further elevated and stronger.

.

Every time I open my mouth

and I admit that yes,

depression is apart of my life,

is the moment that this oversized tyrant,

called depression, becomes a deflated balloon.

It is as if I have poked a hole in its surface

and syphoned it’s weapon of fear,

letting it slip out, until there is nothing left of it.

.

Everyday that I wake up

and Look into the eyes of my daughter,

I remember why I still have to fight.

.

So maybe I still have a long way to go

and a longer road to travel,

but perhaps what matters most

is that I simply keep going.

Melodic Rose

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6 thoughts on “An Inflated Giant Called Depression (Personal Essay)

  1. I found your blog via “We Have Apples”. You listed everything I have lived through. Rejection stands out. Life’s loneliness springs from it. God loves us. Sometimes I think Jesus is mad at me when I f-up or something but He isn’t. I love everything you wrote here. And though my goof around blog might not express it with the solemnity and poetry as yours, it’s all in there. Same as you. I just approach sadness like it’s the carnival coming to town. I will be following. -Dana

    1. Hi Dana,
      First of all, I want to thank you for taking the time to read my entry and then connecting with it. I think there are many different ways to express our journey and if bringing some humour to a tough situation, is what allows you capture the essence of it, then I say that it is well worth it. Sometimes people need to have a good laugh and being able to see the comical side of a situation is no easy feat but it can bring some sort of sense to what we’ve experienced. You are right, God’s love goes beyond all of our mistakes.:) Thank you for following… I will for sure check out your blog.

  2. Thank you for finding me and posting a reply. This article is written so eloquently and accurately. I admire your truth about suppressing your emotions. It definitely makes our lives harder because we never learn how to feel as children and as adults, learning to feel is harder. I don’t know if I ever suppressed my emotions as much as just chose to not show them for fear of embarrassment. I can honestly say that for many years I was embarrassed of my own feelings…now really, how messed up is that? Again, thank you for finding me. This writing is new to me and as I progress, I hope to become as eloquent a writer as you. Hugs and strength. We’re in this together.

    Julie

    1. Thank you Julie! We all have to support eachother right? I think that’s the only way any of us can get through this crazy little thing called life. Writing is truely therapeutic for me and has helped me get through some tough times. I think you will find the more that you blog and write, you will learn more about yourself than you ever knew. It’s really the ultimate is self reflection 🙂

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