Love keeps me alive.

I have seen a lot of blog posts and Facebook posts the last few days about depression and suicide, some good and some bad.  Some compassionate, some not so much. I just have a few things to say.

 Depression doesn’t care if you are a Christian or not. It just doesn’t. It is suffocating and desperate.  That is the only way I can explain it.  I don’t know how else to explain it to you, because that is what I feel.  It might scare people that know me, but I know what it is like to not want to live. I know what it is like to be so depressed that I can’t see anything good around me. I love Jesus, I love my children, I love my family, but some days it is hard to see past the fog in my mind.  It is completely irrational, the things that I think.  This makes me feel weak.  It makes me feel alone.  It makes me less of a human.  And sometimes it makes me feel like I fail in my faith.  

Have compassion.

Reserve judgment.

My Dad told me about a radio show where the commentator (Glenn Beck I believe?) said that none of us know how we will die. That is the truth about each of our lives. Some might find out beforehand and be able to prepare.

Others can’t.

But we all die.

Just love the people around you…because I can tell you when it gets hard, love carries me through.

Frank is more important to my life than most people can imagine.  He is the one person that knows, without even asking, when I am experiencing a period of time that is particularly troubling.  He is the one person that I can tell when it all feels too hard.  He is the one person that lifts me up with his arms, his words, and his love no matter what.  There are days where how I am feeling scares him completely and he is strong enough for the both of us.  I don’t know how well I would be doing today if I did not have Frank.  He’s my person.  It amazes me that there are people who still begrudge me of the relationship that I have with him, but then they don’t know all that he is to me. 

 I don’t feel like I make a choice when I walk out of the fog.  I feel like I survived.  I feel like I wanted survival and Frank and my kids and love and my family and Jesus enough to walk out.  I just wanted more.  Some people don’t get to that point and I can’t judge them for that.  You might call that a choice…and I guess you can.  I guess that is your opinion. I make choices every day though…what to eat, how to respond to my children, what to wear…and coming out of those bad times has never felt like a choice.  It is more like coming back to a rational reality…

It hurts when someone you love commits suicide.  Frank and I lost a dear friend last year to suicide. There is a large amount of survivor’s guilt and heartache that occurs when you are left behind.  You have a lot of questions about what you could have done differently.   If depression was rational then this reality would keep me joyous (at least according to the opinions of others).  But it doesn’t.  It is a terrible cycle. My really low points deeply hurt Frank and I still have them.  All I know is that for me love cuts the fog.  Love pulls me forward.  Love keeps me alive. 

I hope my perspective and a little glimpse into my heart and struggles enables you to understand a little more about depression and suicide…and maybe you will begin to think about how you can help, rather than how you can tear down.  

Know the signs.

Call someone. 1-800-273-TALK

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