Saturday, May 7, 2016

Up Jumps The Wall - My Journey of Depression

I am still here. You may have been wondering, where is she? My last post was April 3, 2016.  Well, let me tell you, I have been on a journey. I am suffering from depression, medication and all that comes with it. I have not been able to write, read, let alone function clearly due to the wall I crashed into, or should I say, the wall that crashed into me.  It has been a month now, and I am doing much better, but this journey is what it is. I can only take the one day at a time granted me by the Father.  The post you are about to read is what I wrote a few days after that dreadful day, April 6th. 

My brothers and sisters, depression is real. The masks that we as African-American men and woman have been conditioned to wear must be removed. We must allow the process of life to flow through us no matter how it looks and while life is flowing, we must acknowledge who we are and what it is for us. Wearing the super cape, putting on the vibrant smile, saying we are okay when in fact we are not cannot continue to be our mantra. I will be penning my journey of depression in the hopes that in my words and transparency, you will see that in many ways we all suffer and if not checked, can be horrific not only for you but for those who love you. Stay tuned, its about to get real, up close and personal. My voice. My journey with depression. I would love to hear from you.

I absolutely do not know where to start in writing this blog.  The past month has been eye opening.  On April 6, 2016, I crashed face first in a wall; a wall of depression.  Out of nowhere, the emotions of dread and despair gripped my shoulders and made its attempt to slam me unconscious. One minute I am fine and the next, completely shattered.  Tears flowing, throat closing, and hand trembling, shattered. Sound familiar? Are you in denial that you too have hit the wall of depression? Well listen up, depression is serious and it is time that you get up and get busy getting the help you need to be the best you that you can be, without the mask.

I want to say thank you to you, my followers. I want you to know that I do not take it lightly the many views and comments I receive for sharing what is laid on my heart.  Again, thank you.

No one would ever know unless I told them that I suffer from depression. Mask.  I smile, laugh, and crack all kinds of jokes in an effort to keep the atmosphere light. Mask. I press through many situations and I intentionally ignore that which I cannot change with my hands. Mask. There is the problem. Though one can appear happy on the outside, the inside is in total chaos. Chair flipping, table tossing chaos.  I am in that space. For the past few weeks I have felt the rise and fall of all emotion and on April 6th, the head of depression reached the top showing all teeth marks of despair. Today, I fully admit and acknowledge that I need help and help is in motion.  Praise God for His grace, mercy and wisdom.

The myth that Christians do not suffer and should not suffer from depression is a lie, and to pretend that there is nothing wrong only further cracks the window pane like the vale ripped from top to bottom.  Millions of men, women, and children suffer from depression, and most are suffering in silence. Most are afraid to open up pandora’s box on their lives and release. Society will have you stuck if you remain under that mask of delusion. I’m on a new journey. A journey to understanding and not ignoring. A journey of improved self-care. A journey of opening my mouth and putting the world on notice that I experience this zig in my zag, that I will not go down without a fight and fight I will.

As I write this post, my body is on a course all its own. The tears want to fall and I cannot tell you why. The anxiety that comes and gives no introduction. My passions and desires seem far off into the distance running from me, while I eagerly run from them too. I drag myself to the mic daily, refusing to offer eye contact to the life I live and the dreams embedded in my soul. No, I could care less about any of it, even unto death I can walk of the stage, no standing ovation needed. Carmella, my doctor asked me a question: if I knew that I would go to sleep and not wake up, would I be okay with it. Resounding YES. This gave her pause as it would many.  You see, my comfort in death comes from my joy in Christ, nothing more. No, I am not suicidal. No I don’t have the urge to hurt myself, but I can honestly tell you that I wouldn’t mind slapping the taste out of few mouths just to feel the vibration from my hand. To feel the exhilaration in knowing, I just knocked someone out. Pressing pause, I step back and take a deep breath, shoot stop breathing all together. Close my eyes and offer up a two-word prayer, HELP LORD!

With the sun shining and the temperature in the 70’s, I could easily stay in my room with the mini blinds shut, but I will myself to open them. I could easily and without hesitation shut myself off from the world, and for an introvert this is easy to do, but I have that conversation with myself. The body aches and emotional drain are enough to cause one to give up and I see how easily it can happen. But, the resolve deep down inside of me shouts and rakes it fingernails across the chalkboard demanding my attention, so my eyes look to the heavens, and I pause.  More to come, stay tuned.

Be Blessed

No comments:

Post a Comment