When Two Roads Diverged

Two months ago I had to make a choice.  Emotionally, physically and spiritually I had reached rock bottom and I couldn’t breathe or think straight anymore.  My life had gotten to the point that I knew if I didn’t reach out for help, I would shut down.

The thing is, I’m the type of person that tries to fix myself.  I look up solutions online when I think I’m suffering from an illness.  I become my own doctor and try to self diagnose.  Maybe it’s because mum’s a nurse and I hate going to the doctor. Sadly,  I couldn’t self diagnose myself this time.

In reality, I was suffering from depression and anxiety.  I wasn’t handling the semester as well as I would have liked.  As much as I tried to power through and tough it out, I couldn’t anymore.  I became reclusive and had many sleepless nights.  Each morning was a struggle to get up and I had to give myself pep talks as I blinked back the tears all the way to school.  I didn’t recognize myself anymore and the joy that I had for life had disappeared.  I lost my laugh.

I can’t begin to describe how dark my life felt.  So when I hit rock bottom, I knew I had to make a decision.  I reached out for help and it was hard.

There’s a stigma attached to depression and anxiety especially in the Christian world.  We are taught not to let fear or anxiety rule our lives.  If it does then something is wrong and maybe that is the problem.  If we admit that we are struggling then perhaps there is something wrong with our relationship with Christ.  So it gets bottled up and we pray that it will disappear so we can pretend to be fine on the outside.  I hate that.  I hate that we have to feel like we need to pretend that everything is okay.  Why are we so afraid to be vulnerable to the people who are suppose to love and support us most?

I had to learn that reaching out for help isn’t a sign of weakness.  It’s a sign for hope.  Life doesn’t always go the way we expect or plan.  We will be hit with hardships and we will be hit with loss; just like grief, working through depression is a process and it looks different for everyone.

This semester hasn’t been easy for me and I never truly realized how much I missed my old self until I was able to discover my laugh again.

Thank you to those who have been lifting me up in prayer, to those who have been showering me with love.  I appreciate you all for not giving up on me.  You all mean the world to me.