Monday, July 6, 2015
Brokenness: my depression
Not so long ago,
I felt myself spiral
down and down and down.
Life what was not what I'd expected.
Past the age of 30
I was single and childless and going no where fast in a career.
I felt so insecure in who I was...
because I wasn't like anyone else I knew.
Everyone had a marriage and family.
And I felt punished for not having received this gift.
No end was in sight...just days and nights alone.
And it all seemed to slip away from me...
Until all that was left was chasm,
that forgot to end.
For the rest of my life,
And then anxiety set in.
I started therapy.
I started medication.
And things began to settle,
but not end.
Because I felt more calm and settled,
after a year,
I stopped taking meds.
I also began volunteering
with victims of human trafficking in Seattle.
I started writing and editing.
Getting out of myself,
out of my own head and heart,
I went to India.
A four month trip
that pushed all boundaries of my comfort and justice and heart,
exploded in me.
And for the first time,
I saw and felt and knew
In a country that was so broken
I brought my own shattered heart,
and knew healing.
Part of it, I believe,
was just getting out of myself...
giving my life away.
Dying to myself.
I also believe the talking, the meds...
it all helped me find some wholeness.
Still, here's the thing...
when I feel myself spiral again...
and as I'm twisting down,
I try and find a foot hold...
a hand hold...
something to grab onto
that speaks truth...
about life and love and me.
I find those words or people to grab.
as long as I live,
I will struggle with this brokenness.
That will find me flinging myself
again and again
into a Love bigger than me,
greater than service,
more true than whatever is true about me.
It is humbling.
And I believe,
that this life,
will always find me
where I am supposed to be.
Heart canvas art by Debbie Arambula