Depression is different as you get older. Loneliness has an entirely different meaning, purpose and reason an entirely different more essential concept. When you are younger you imagine yourself being as old as you are now and you imagine you will have it figured out or the parts of it that really matter. Your heart; you should at 30 know where it belongs, to whom. But you don’t, and more than anything more than ever you want to belong. And purpose. It’s greed isn’t it? To have so much and not have anything- to feel that way. My younger self feared becoming the woman I am today, grew up surrounded by women like the woman I am today and I prayed I’d be different. The irony. And depression. So many days, weeks, sometimes months spent fighting it when it finally makes it way to the surface there is no pill strong enough, no bottle deep enough and certainly no amount of cake big enough to plug that hole.
Hope is depressing. To wake up everyday for the rest of your tomorrow just hoping you will get your hearts desire, hoping life will begin to making sense, hoping you will find your purpose and hoping and hoping and hoping to no end. Hope is depressing but more than that it is exhausting. The energy it takes to will yourself to believe in a better tomorrow that comes with no guarantee.
God is good and he is sovereign and all things work together for the good of all his children. The knowledge of this does not change how every morning the well of despair gets deeper and darker; the feelings remain and yes they are fleeting but lately they seem to have made a home in my chest right on top of my lungs pressing down and making it thy much harder to breathe.
It feels like a candle burning, starts off bright and strong as it is lit but slowly starts to melt away, it’s once tall defined shape crumbling to shapes undefined it holds on. Until it doesn’t, until it is useless. Days feel that way lately.
Sometimes- briefly- in the shortest interval there’s a glimmer of that all so exhausting hope. When life, the life you have you realize you would never have imagined, not even in your wildest dreams. Abundantly and above all you could ask, he gave. So comfort arrives in that moment, how much more will God give in this? When my wildest dreams have me imagining one who will love me but never having known that love how much more will it be when it is right in front of me? I have read and heard how it will or at least should look like how Christ loves his church but not even in my wildest dreams can that picture ever come close to what reality will hold. And there in those moments there is comfort.
They are fleeting though. For the resident pessimist reality comes crushing down fast reminding you of the saying, “if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans” because then you realize how your plans have not brought much to reality. So back to depression
Hope is depressing. To wake up everyday for the rest of your tomorrow just hoping you will get your hearts desire, hoping life will begin to making sense, hoping you will find your purpose and hoping and hoping and hoping to no end. Hope is depressing but more than that it is exhausting. The energy it takes to will yourself to believe in a better tomorrow that comes with no guarantee.
God is good and he is sovereign and all things work together for the good of all his children. The knowledge of this does not change how every morning the well of despair gets deeper and darker; the feelings remain and yes they are fleeting but lately they seem to have made a home in my chest right on top of my lungs pressing down and making it thy much harder to breathe.
It feels like a candle burning, starts off bright and strong as it is lit but slowly starts to melt away, it’s once tall defined shape crumbling to shapes undefined it holds on. Until it doesn’t, until it is useless. Days feel that way lately.
Sometimes- briefly- in the shortest interval there’s a glimmer of that all so exhausting hope. When life, the life you have you realize you would never have imagined, not even in your wildest dreams. Abundantly and above all you could ask, he gave. So comfort arrives in that moment, how much more will God give in this? When my wildest dreams have me imagining one who will love me but never having known that love how much more will it be when it is right in front of me? I have read and heard how it will or at least should look like how Christ loves his church but not even in my wildest dreams can that picture ever come close to what reality will hold. And there in those moments there is comfort.
They are fleeting though. For the resident pessimist reality comes crushing down fast reminding you of the saying, “if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans” because then you realize how your plans have not brought much to reality. So back to depression
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