My Battle with Depression {Real Talk about My Demon}

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For as long as I can remember, I have had weeks and sometimes months where I go head to head with my personal demon, depression.

When it comes to my demon, I don’t get suicidal. I do become withdrawn. I’m always tired, but struggle to sleep. Words that usually come easy to me get locked inside my mind. There is no pleasure in things that I normally love doing. My depression, my demon never makes me feel as if I am a victim of someone’s harsh words, tone, lies, or mistreatment. My demon tells me that I am to blame. Somehow it’s my fault. I see myself as small and insignificant as humanly possible. My demon makes me see myself as worthless.

This past year has been an uphill battle for me. This battle could have torn my family apart.  August 19, 2015, is when it started.

I miscarried a child that my husband and I had prayed for, for almost two years. I was hurt, but all I could see was that I needed to be strong for my husband and my daughter. They deserved peace at this time.  There was no way for me to know that by putting on a brave face, my demon would start pounding at the door.

I spent months fighting my demon, pretending it didn’t exist. Smiling, laughing, and cracking jokes was my weapon of choice. Yet the more I laughed, the louder he pounded at the door. Never crying, continually responding with the automated response “I’m fine.”

Truthfully, I wasn’t fine.

The day came where I gave up the fight. Thoughts flooded my mind. Something was wrong with me.

Why could I have a child with the wrong guy, but couldn’t with a man that loves us? What did I do wrong? Am I broken? What could I have done differently?

Trying to fight the demon meant I pushed it all to the back of my mind.

It is a big mistake to ignore demons like depression. Depression likes to be the front runner of your life, in control.

After the beginning of the year, I quit finding pleasure in the things I used to love. I started to slowly withdraw little by little. I built up a wall and I wouldn’t even let my husband in. Never talking about my feelings, good or bad. I quit my life and started walking around in a haze. Hiding behind a smile. Yet, the more I smiled, the more the hurt grew. Then it turned to anger. I ended up living the next eight months hurting and angry.

The haze kept growing. Anger became the emotion that helped me get through the days without crying.

I was angry at the world. Angry that no one saw my pain. No one saw the me I tried to hide. I was angry at people who said they cared but made me feel like a joke as if my pain didn’t matter. When I needed someone to talk to, no one came. In those months I wouldn’t have cared if they talked to me about purple unicorns or rainbow Sasquatch.

See, I am no good at opening up to people. Many times it feels as if I am a burden when I try to open up. I am aware that it’s in my head, but it’s enough to keep me from talking, and from opening up. No one has ever taught me how to talk about my feelings. I was never told its OK to open up. I do not know-how.

It takes a strength I don’t have to say, “I need to talk. I need you to listen.”

My first response to being hurt is to hide it. Bury it deep where no one can find it, just deal with it later. Later usually means me by myself crying and over-thinking.

Now, here I am, slowly healing, but a dark cloud has replaced the haze. I remember who loved me in spite of walking alone through this dark dark phase. Not dealing with my own demons pushed people away. I lost friends in my battle. The question of which is worse runs through my mind. Is it worse being lonely because you are alone? Or being lonely because when you needed someone they weren’t there? Were they really my friends? Could I have changed anything?

I am a work in progress. These days I am still withdrawn, but I see a light. Nights are still hard because I struggle to find a peaceful night’s sleep. I am slowly falling back in love with the things that bring me joy.

Here I am, still battling that awful demon. There are good days, yet I still have really bad days too. Depression has lost its foothold in my life. Even if I fight this battle alone, I will not quit. I am not a victim. By God, I am a survivor. I don’t know how long this battle will take, but I am not backing down. In the end, I will be OK, even if I have no one to see me or no one to be there.

*If you suffer from depression and have suicidal thoughts seek professional help, or call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255

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