It’s me. I’m crawling out from under a burden, and it’s a little bright out here.
This is the first time I have written in ages. I am not even sure where to begin, and I am shy of you. Will you be patient with me as I try and weave words again? Will you find truth in my tapestry?
I have been living in a cycle of pain and depression some weeks now. I am only just now seeing light, as I said, and the light has shone into the dark places. The light is shooing away the dark little creatures which have been parasitic these many days. I can eat again. I can read books again and play with my children and I can finally write again.
This post is for you who are buried under thick quiltish layers of pain or depression or both. I have not been to the dark plains of depression for so many years, and I had forgotten the impossible torture of it. I am thankful to have been through this again, it made me remember the bleakness and that you are out there and that you are doing this alone. I am praying for you, comrade.
I have had a debilitating migraine headache for the past many months. The pain is constant and the vertigo is dizzying. Finally, I was placed on a strong medication to try to combat the pain. Unfortunately, the pain remained constant if slightly dulled on some days, but this particular med threw me into a desperate depression. In a matter of days, I lost all of my ability to find joy in life. Even as my body became accustomed to the medication, my side affects increased, and my apathy for anything remained. I despised food, I couldn’t bear to pick up a book, I lost my ability to smile or laugh. I was a ghost for most of this summer. Long story short, my doctor took me off of the medication and I am back to daily migraines, but now that the drug is fully out of my system, I am able to return to the land of the living. I’m back from purgatory. My depression is gone and I am back to my life with a new abandon. As Maya Angelou said, “I know why the caged bird sings.” I know the better song of a bird in liberty. That is my song these days. Thank God.
Now that I am back to my senses, I have words for those of you who are yet in this gray fog of depression, mental illness, and pain. I hear God best when my heart is sore, and this is what he told my heart.
You feel invisible.
You feel buried in an ever deepening grave of weighty soil. You feel alone. You feel nothing. You feel everything. You feel like screaming and sleeping all at once. You can’t cry or sleep or eat. You feel that your soul is caved in.
Hear me, those things are not the truth.
These things are truth.
You are seen. You are not alone under the soil and darkness, I am lying beside you. I am with you right now. I have been buried before, and I will be buried again and again so that you are never alone. You can scream; scream my name. You can sleep; I will send you a moon to light your way. Your feelings are not you. Your body is not you. You are the entity that I created in my own heart when I imagined you into being and you are not your feelings – you are eternal. Your soul feels crushed but I am inside of it, holding its shape filling it with my white light. You are broken, and I will be broken with you. You are mourning, and I will sit beside you and pour ash onto my own head with you. I am the beginning and the end. Your pain is holy to me, because you are holy to me. I am the Father of lights; I am buried with you and we will resurrect together. I know, because I’ve done this before.
You can’t feel me or hear me, but I am a still small voice and my voice delights over you with singing. You are the apple of my eye, my most treasured child. I want to crown you and sing with you and dance with you. There is a celebration prepared. Just stay the course. We are not far now. You are too little to see above this, but I can see to the edge of eternity and I can tell you that it all ends exactly as it should.
Let’s take each second together. Breath in. Breath out. That’s a good start. Stay the course, we are northward bound and I can tell you that you won’t even believe how whole and content and perfect you will finally feel. You will someday arrive into perfection and no longer be tormented by the third law of thermodynamics. You will exist in a state of permanent completion. We are heading North, dearest, and we are ever nearer to your destiny with me.
Whisper my name. My name is a whirring of wind, an amalgam of vowels like the song of a soul in raptures. I am with you. I promise.
Those are the words that God gave me for you. I have nothing else except to say that I am so very thankful for you, dear reader, and I am praying for you. Knowing that you are there is a gift to me.
I’m not on facebook anymore, but I will be sharing this onto my FB account. If you would like to reach out, leave a comment or head over to Instagram and send me a private message. Hearing your heart song, whether it is full of mirth or weighted with pain, is how I know to keep writing for you.