Bipolar Life-The Journal #64, Recovery

The overcast of depression is beginning to fade. The long haul through the past few months consumed me, but I am beginning to emerge once again.

Depression affects us all differently. But we can all agree it is devastating. Whether we physically, mentally, or spiritually shut down, the pain is haunting. For those who shut down in all areas, it is grueling work to climb back.

I sit here now, wondering what happened that I woke up and remembered I am still alive? Was it the day I sat in my office and noticed the sun? Or leaving my house to shop for food? I cannot pinpoint the moment the fog lifted, but I know with no doubt, the blinding fog had been here for a while.

The last moment of joy I had was in August, on a beach with my best friend. We enjoyed our annual getaway, and soon after, life crashed on my front door. Without permission, locked in a cage match with Satan himself, I took a beating. For months, he won.

I wish for answers, but there are none. For whatever reason, my mind couldn’t do it this time. Reminded of my childhood, I blacked out to get through. If only I were stronger or wiser, maybe things would be different. I long for normalcy, but this is my normal.

I don’t choose to hide my truth in some closet in hopes of fooling anyone. I make no claims to owning the answers for mental health. I am not the authority on anything. But I am the authority of my life, and I own my weaknesses, as well as my strengths. I embrace the broken pieces into healing. While I grow and cultivate a better me, I concede my failures but shine in my victories.

I prayed myself through this deep depression. The day I told God I didn’t trust Him, He invited me to have a private conversation, and within minutes told me why I can. Another miracle, another moment in the presence of the Lord.

I am blessed and lose sight of that every time the darkness of depression closes in. Satan baits me further into the shadows. The light of God is a threat to him, so he pushes and entices with false hope that comfort exists somewhere in his presence.

As my soul awakens to truth, I feel shame for how far away I ran. I also grieve the loss of time. Even in the sadness, I thrive in this return. I came back. If I have to come back every year for the rest of my life, I will celebrate the return. There’s a win in the return.

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