Today as I spooned out an unreasonable amount of humus onto my plate, I said to myself – “You and I both know that’s too much $#@% humus.” Who? It’s just me in the kitchen… I started to laugh to myself… then I heard my mom’s voice: “You’re not crazy for talking to yourself… it is when you start answering yourself that we have a problem.” I’m not sure where she got that from, but if that’s the case, I’ve been nuts a really long time. (If you are reading this from the front page, click “read more” – if you are reading this via email, click on the title of this post to read more)
Depression is real. Call it what you want – but you can’t feed it like a cold, sleep it off like a headache, or walk it off like a pulled muscle. I started experiencing it for the first time after my first pregnancy. I didn’t see it for what it was back then. I just figured it was a side effect of dealing with a less than stellar person who happened to be the father of my kid. Later, I blamed it on the stress of being a single mom. So once I was married, with all the help and support a girl could ask for, it should go away right? No, it didn’t.
Two more kids, and it only got more frequent. Mine comes in waves… just a few times a year, but really, that’s all I can take. I’m sure of it.
For me it’s always been an overwhelming feeling of general sadness. Not about anything in particular, just this feeling of always being on the edge of tears – with one thing, a terrible unknown thing, waiting to push those tears out of my eyelids. I’m never sure if it’ll be a particularly tender moment between a parent and child in a commercial, or a woman singing her heart out on the radio, professing her love (or lack therof) for some fella that did her wrong. Listening to the Christian radio station isn’t any better. As a matter of fact, the music on the Christian station is so much worse than the silly love songs on regular radio because it is real love. Ugh. Can’t win for losing.
Black women aren’t supposed to experience depression – did you know that? That concept is so deeply rooted in our culture, that you could take it for fact. It isn’t a fact, but it may as well be. We are immune to depression, vaccinated with good food, “girlfriends”, and moms and grandmothers who are standing by, waiting for a complaint, so they can “snap us out of it” and send us to church.
So what do we do when this mythical creature called depression sneaks up on us? Who do we tell who won’t beat us down with stories of how much worse it could be, how we just need to eat, or get out and get some air. I don’t take medication for it, so I have three things that I do when I feel it coming on.
First, I tell my husband. I am thankful that he gets it – but he still tries to fix it with pie… God bless him. He needs to know so that he can process that my “mood” has nothing to do with him. He’ll take the kids out sometimes, or help me out with things that are clearly overwhelming to me. There’s nothing worse than beating yourself up over what you haven’t accomplished while you are in the throes of a bout of depression.
Second, I check my calendar and make sure something is on it. I don’t want to talk to people, see people, or interact with anyone when it comes on, and that just makes it worse – so I make sure there is something that I HAVE to attend…. church doesn’t count.
Third, I pray more. Even though my husband is extremely understanding and patient, he’s not God. No matter how hard he tries (and believe me he really tries), he can’t “fix” it. As a believer, I understand that God is who I will ultimately have to go to for my healing, so I send up some short prayers during the day – many of them thanking him (and reminding myself) of my blessings.
This song stays on my mind when I am going through a “wave”:
All who sail the sea of faith
Find out before too long
How quickly blue skies can grow dark
And gentle winds grow strong
Suddenly fear is like white water
Pounding on the soul
Still we sail on knowing
That our Lord is in control
Sometimes He calms the storm
With a whispered “Peace be still”
He can settle any sea
But it doesn’t mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child
He has a reason for each trial
That we pass through in life
And though we’re shaken
We cannot be pulled apart from Christ
No matter how the driving rain beats down
On those who hold to faith
A heart of trust will always
Be a quiet peaceful place
“Sometimes He Calms the Storm” by Scott Krippayne
This thing may always be with me, but I refuse to let it steal my joy. Even if I can’t avoid it, I can definitely push through it. Have you ever dealt with depression? What do you do to work through it?
