Upon 9 months of reflection, I have come to the reality that
it is impossible to beat depression. I
used to think that I could beat it into a corner where I could hide it so no
one could see, and thus give me the ability to appear to have normal
functioning. Let's just say that I've
got this monkey on my back that won't go in the corners, no matter how many
bananas you bribe him with. This means
that I have to learn to have him on my shoulders and I have to keep him fed so
that he doesn't start hitting me in the head or biting my ears.
This new found knowledge isn't what you would call comforting, but I think that I might actually be pursuing this from the right angle for the first time ever. I used to believe the key to survival was to throw a sheet over that that part of me and hope it stayed there long enough for me to get something done, and then deal with the "monkey" getting out in privacy where no one could see me fighting. I no longer believe this is the correct path to peace in my life, but that is probably evident by my hospital excursion in March. Despite the difficult times since then, and the people who look at me like I should be quarentined from the rest of humanity; I think that being open and honest with what I have is gradually making me stronger. I think I am actually becoming more stable than I have been before this happened.
People used to ask me how I was doing, and ever since Casey was born I have been saying "I'm doing fine". I now realize that what I was really doing was pitching that monkey away from the cage I had put myself in. I didn't want to admit that anything was wrong...I didn't want there to be anything wrong. I was willing to admit to post-partum depression, but never to anything more. So those "I'm fines" built up to a complete and total abandonment of everything I had come to know as me...in a realization that "me" was a fraud; or a misconception. My husband knew to a degree long before I did that I was slipping and that my ability to cope was becoming seriously compromised, but I didn't listen to him. Now, after the fact, I see how wrong I was to put the mask on and hide...it didn't protect me, it left me vulnerable from behind...which is the direction that Satan comes from. By being open and honest about the illness that I have, I put up a shield of acceptance. Acceptance of who I am, and I have nothing to hide and no mask to hide behind...and this protects me from all sides. By being open and honest with myself means I am being open and honest with God about when I need His atonement the most, because I am the only one who can ask for that help. This is putting on His whole armor, this is arming myself against Satan, and this is the ultimate protection of my soul, and who I truly am.
