“You have clinical depression.” So many thoughts ran through my mind as my doctor stated those words. Part of me was glad to know that something was actually wrong with me and that I wasn’t really going crazy. The other part of me was confused. Confused because I couldn’t understand why or how this was happening. I kept playing back, in my mind, my life over the past few months, reading through my journals, looking for something that would tell me what was going on with me. Of course I’d experienced moments in my life that didn’t go as I would have hoped for, had stressful days and days where I didn’t want to be bothered. But, those are just a regular part of life, right? But, what was happening to me was that I was engulfed into these type of days more frequently. I was stressed, snappy, tired and it was becoming a struggle just to make it through each day. So I did what I do best. I prayed and kept praying. Surely God would pull me out of this funk. I kept praying, praying several times a day, in the shower, in the car,when walking Maxx, wondering why God was moving so slow because I didn’t believe that he would want me to be so miserable and broken, but with each passing day nothing happened. In fact, I was starting to feel worse.
One day, without any warning, I broke down. I was washing the dishes and out of no where the tears started falling, non stop. Even when I tried to stop crying, I couldn’t. My heart was beating fast, my hands were shaking and the room was spinning. I kept thinking if I made it the bed, to lay down, I would be ok. I barely made it from the kitchen to my bedroom before I collapsed on the floor and Continue reading