The purple lines under my eyes seemed to have gotten darker. My clothes are not clean I notice the dust my room is covered in. I am not hungry. Being around others is so draining that I bleed anger at having to socialize, yet I feel so alone. I am retreating. My body is tired, my heart is aching, my head is cloudy. My soul feels so bogged down.
I was awake almost all night last night. I couldn't get ahold of a friend from the hospital and it was worrying me. I have lost track of my schoolwork and have multiple zeros in each of my classes. There is an alarming amount of unopened messages and missed calls on my phone. My brain feels overwhelmed.
My vulnerability and transparency are not my pleas for pity. My emotion-driven words and solemn tones are not my efforts to paint your picture of me pitch black. All I want is a way to step away from my reality and see these feelings, thoughts, beliefs as temporary. Writing is how I flee without running; it is how I acknowledge that I am struggling.
After leaving the hospital, my mindset was that struggles were no more. I did not intend more depressive episodes. I did not plan for such loneliness. I did not anticipate such a lack of compassion from others. I did not expect to be depressed anymore. Obviously, I was wrong. I guess I assumed that I had mastered the art of facing demons. But how do you face demons when you're choosing to run opposite of God?
In previous posts on this blog, my social media (@mentallyillchristianity :)), and even in quick conversations with trusted people, I have stated and restated the importance of leaning into Christ. It was all hypocritical of me to say because the only person I have been leaning into is myself. I thought that choosing to put myself out there would help ease much of the pain I had mustered up and that putting myself out there would eliminate the possibility of feeling so isolated.
I want to be vulnerable because I value authenticity. I want to be transparent because I admire confidence. I do no feel unconfident or unauthentic at this moment, but I do feel anxious, and blue, and unmotivated to desert these feelings of sadness. My thought process throughout beginning this blog and safe space was that it would be a place where roughly 40-50 people view my feelings turned into words. I have gathered almost an average of 200 views per post, and over 375 views on my The Truth blogpost. Being vulnerable with the intent to uplift Christ, leaves us available for attacks from demons.
So, I woke up this morning with a spent soul and a weary heart. Sobbing, wondering why every day required such strength. My dad stood at the foot of my bed, encouraging me to find my resolve. "I'm so tired of fighting," I said. I could see the fear overcome my dad's face. I could feel the regret swell up in my body. It wasn't what I meant.
Through his angry tears, my dad gritted his teeth and said: "We don't give up. You are going to fight no matter what it takes. I'm not letting you give up." Together we came to the conclusion that we were going to find my resolve, that we were going to take it on no matter what it takes.
I have had this conversation with my parents numerous times at this point, but something about this one felt different. I don't know how the Lord is using me yet. I don't understand the reason behind these trials yet. But what I do know is that I will not stop taking my stand for mental health and I will not stop taking a stand for Christ. I will not stop fighting.
I have my armor on. My belt is full and my arsenal is packed. The helmet is tight, my shoes are strapped, and my shield is covered in arrows. He is in front of me and behind me. I am covered in the blood. Together we will fight, together we will knock off the arrows.
- Emma