The dense fog of this depression lifted on Sunday afternoon. My overwhelming desire is to dissect the experience and name a cause, but I simply can't. All I know is that in the middle of making lunch on Sunday afternoon, I stood in the middle of my kitchen and realized that whatever had been pressing down on me and confusing my heart and mind had gone. I was thinking clearly again, seeing clearly, feeling clearly.
I think the fog started to lift Sunday morning. I attended two worship services that morning, at two different churches, and each seemed as though it was tailor-made just for me, right where I was. The tenderness and intimacy and graciousness of this gesture on the part of my Father touched my heart. It was the first time I had really felt in about four weeks.
Today has been really good. It felt so good to smile and mean it. There was such a freedom, a lightness, in not having to force myself to go through the motions of living. It was the first morning in ages that I wasn't wading through a thick, mucky swamp of exhaustion, completely overwhelmed by a simple task like deciding what to serve for breakfast. My husband said to me, "It's so good to have you back."
Now I'm faced with the temptation to live in fear of when the shadow might fall on me again - because it very likely will. I resolve here and now not to ruin these good days, however few or plentiful they happen to be.
I came across an incredibly insightful quote on Facebook last night. It addresses depression with the distinct clarity of one who has been there. Stephen Fry said this:
If you know someone who's depressed, please resolve never to ask them why.
Depression isn't a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is,
like the weather. It's hard to be a friend to someone who's depressed, but it is
one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.
Thank you, Friends, for journeying with me. You bless me in ways you can't even imagine.