Friday Faves: Dealing with Bummed-Outness Edition

Since I’m going to a Women of Faith conference (full story) this weekend, you’d think I’d be in a great mood.  I mean, what a great opportunity to commune with the people of God, right?  Absolutely!  And I feel the need for it now more than ever.  Looking for a church in the area is taking its toll on me.  So is the pressure of leading a weekly small group.  I’m giving out, but not filling up.   The rainy weather doesn’t help.  Even the local schools are closed due to flooding.  (Is it even safe to go out there?  Should I invest in a house boat?)  Really, I’m just plain ol’ bummed out.

I don’t know what to do for this depression (and anxiety) except to walk through it and know it, too, will pass.  I spend more time praying, thinking, talking to God and less time social networking, hanging out, and uh, showering.  Hopefully, the Women of Faith weekend will kick start my spirit.  Until then, here are some “faves” that help me get through the murky times.

*Bebo Norman is my go-to guy for hard times.  Whether I’m about to have a panic attack or cry my eyes out, I pop in a Bebo album and I feel immediate relief.  It reminds me of when David played his harp for King Saul when Saul was overcome with bouts of madness.  Bebo’s music is a gentle reminder that someone’s been in the depths, made it out, and that God is still very much present.  Lately, I’ve also listened to Jason Gray and Andrew Peterson, and of course, my old stand-bys–Rich Mullins and Fernando Ortega.  I used have specific playlists on my iPod for “sad times” and “mad times” and “happy times,” but they somehow got deleted.  Another song that resonates with me is “Hold My Heart” by Tenth Avenue North.  While I enjoy artists like Tenth Avenue North and Josh Wilson, when I’m down and out, their upbeat songs feel like salt rubbed into an raging wound.

*The Book of Psalms is an inspiration for many, and when nothing else makes sense, the psalms usually do.  I particularly love Psalms 42 and 46.  I also turn to the book of Hosea, which may sound like a strange choice, until you consider this passage from Hosea 3: 19-20,

“I will betroth you to me forever;
I will betroth you in righteousness and justice,
in love and compassion.
I will betroth you in faithfulness,
and you will acknowledge the LORD.”

As cliche as it sounds, the Bible is an amazing source of comfort in its prose, stories (Elijah, for one), and guidance.

*One day someone who is very dear to me gave me a copy of Henri Nouwen’s The Inner Voice of Love as a present.  She told me to read it, but not all at once, just bit by bit.  So I did, and still do.  In Nouwen’s most personal work, he shares his journal entries from a time when he underwent extreme hardship (some may call it a “nervous breakdown”).  At the urging of his friends, Nouwen published this book.  I rarely read an entry without bursting into tears. I also read Jesus Calling by Sarah Young (read review), which is great for use in small groups or for personal devotions.

*It may sound silly, but online games like Gnome Town and Words With Friends (both on Facebook) provide needed distraction.  I cannot always live in the pain, focus on the hurt, feel the depression, deal with the anxiety.  So, instead, I build a world of friendly forest creatures and get my butt kicked by high school kids who know more words than me.

*Since I’m a writer, it should come as no surprise that words at a healing balm to my soul.  In his song “The Cure for Pain,” Jon Foreman sings, “So blood is fire pulsing through our veins.  We’re either writers or fools behind the reigns.  I’ve spent ten years trying to sing it all away.  But the water keeps on falling from my tries.”  Like Foreman, I keep trying to write, not sing, it all away.  Still, I keep my journal close by and consider my notebooks full of scribbles among my most treasured possessions.  One of these days, I’m going to get a nice leather or mole skin journal (usually, I get them for 50% off at Barnes & Noble or as gifts from friends).

*Dogs, not diamonds, are a girl’s best friend.  Lonely days seem a little less lonely because of my two dogs–Cassie the Peekapoo (left) and Maddy the Shih Tzu (right).  They sense my mood and cuddle with me more often when I am down.  My bird, Kylie the Cockatiel, chirps praises to God when my spirit feels faint.  Animals are truly a gift from God.  And so are friends and family, who are willing to listen, even they don’t understand or don’t know what to do.

I’m not going to apologize for my less-than-chipper mood because it is my goal to be real, rather than entertaining.  Ideally, I like to be both, but real trumps entertaining.  Pray for me and I will pray for you!

How can I be praying for you right now?  What do you do when you feel bummed out?  Do you suffer from clinical depression and/or anxiety?  What kind of pets do you have?  Do you journal and/or blog to relieve your stress?

Imagine… A Women of Faith Weekend

On Friday morning, BFF Sarah and I will be heading to Philadelphia to attend the two-day Women of Faith weekend (WoF).  Thanks to BookSneeze, I received two free passes in exchange for telling y’all about my experience.  Sounds good to me!  Ah, the perks of being a blogger.

I’ve never been to a Women of Faith weekend, so I don’t really know what to expect.  According to the WoF website, outside food and drinks will be confiscated—does that mean I can’t shove a pack of Mentos into my purse?  Will I be forced to pay $4 for a small soda?  I know that Jesus is the living water, but will He be handing out Deer Park at the event?  Keeping us dehydrated could cut down on those infamously long lines at the women’s restroom I suppose.

Anyway, the theme of the weekend is “Imagine,” and I will, “be refreshed, encouraged and inspired. Because the God who loves you can do far more than you can ever Imagine.”  (Refreshed = free water, I’m sure of it.) Lately, I’ve been feeling parched, discouraged, and vacant.

I’m so thirsty for something more.  (More of God?  Definitely more than just slogging through the day.)

I don’t feel like I can make it through another minute.  My strength is failing me.  Not only do I need courage, but I need to be encouraged.

I have so many thoughts running through my head.  I want to do this and that, but I get so tired—I’m too tired to start, too depressed to even try. I ache for inspiration (and motivation).

And I think, I can’t go to Women of Faith this weekend.  I’m too weak, too depressed, too me.  My anxiety is kicking up at the thought of being closed into a stadium with thousands of women.  The thought of being touched or hugged by a stranger gives me knots in my stomach.  O, God, please don’t make me go.

His response? “I love you far more than you can ever imagine.”

I won’t let my fear control me.  I will bask in refreshment, encouragement, and inspiration.  I will let it fill me up and surround me like a warm bubble bath, and seep into my dry soul like aloe vera. 

Just let go of the fear and imagine…

(The video makes the Women of Faith weekend look pretty fun!)

Have you been to a Women of Faith weekend?  What was it like?  Think my Mentos are contraband?  Are you going to Philly this weekend for WoF or another stop on the Imagine tour?

Fat Dogs and Fat Women

My mom's "fat" dog, Katie.

Whenever people encounter my mom’s one dog, Katie, it seems they cannot help but comment on her weight.

“Wow, she’s a little butterball, isn’t she?”

“What a beautiful dog!  She’d be gorgeous if she lost a few pounds.”

“Your dog is fat!  Why is she so fat?” (That’s my favorite tactless statement.)

Sure, Katie is a bit tubby, but why do close friends and even perfect strangers mention it when they encounter her (and of course, my mom, since Katie doesn’t wander the streets alone)?  It just doesn’t seem to be good etiquette to comment on a new acquaintance’s fat dog.

My mom's "fat" daughter (me) . Yes, my family loves dogs.

Not only that, but for people like my mom and me, it drives our suspicions about our own struggles with weight deeper—that when people look at us all they see is a big ball of fat.  They don’t see a person with a name and a history and a personality and a love of books and the outdoors, just fat.  Each of the statements people make about Katie can easily be said to me.  In fact, they have been said to me.

“You have such a pretty face.  If you lose some weight, you would be beautiful.”  (Because apparently I can only date the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man right now.  I mean, he doesn’t seem to be much for conversation, but I guess he’ll do.)

“Do you really need two cookies?”  (No, I don’t.  But I had a bad day and I’m cramming the extra cookie down my throat to make myself feel better.)

“Lose weight and you’ll find a husband.” (Uhhh…who says I want a husband?  Maybe that’s just not part of God’s plan for me.  I am painfully aware of how many guys view fat chicks, especially those who sport “No Fat Chicks” t-shirts.  I am told that confidence is sexy to guys, but haven’t actually found that to be the case.)

And I know people are just dying to say, “You’re fat!  Why are you so fat?”  I don’t know!  Because I ate two cookies?  Because I don’t exercise enough?  Because I’ve only been able to effectively lose weight by eating grass (it was salad, but it tasted like grass) and chicken noodle soup?

I know I need to lose weight, not so I can nab a husband, but so I can feel better and be healthier person.  But I do not need to be reminded of the fact I need to lose weight by well-meaning friends and family members.  It’s not like I woke up one morning and “forgot” I’m fat.  I am aware of it all the time—when I don’t sit on flimsy lawn furniture for fear my girth will break it, when a store doesn’t have clothes in my size, when I look in the mirror (or avoid looking in the mirror), when I don’t pretend it bothers me.  Believe me, I know better than anyone that I’m fat.

Then why don’t you do something about it?  (Another fun question.)

It takes time, lots of time.  It took a lifetime to get like this, but it won’t take a lifetime to undo it.  There are physiological, psychological, physical, mental, and personal issues at play.  Sadly, eating salad and exercising isn’t as easy as it sounds due to financial limitations (healthy foods cost more), emotional issues (food is comforting), mental health issues (depression and anxiety suck the energy right out of you.  Plus, my fear of open spaces and crowds doesn’t help at all), and medical issues (my medications make it hard to lose weight.)

But I know this woman/man/horse/what who (fill in the blank with weight loss tip) and lost 80-100 pounds!

Everyone knows someone who lost a massive amount of weight and that’s great for that person.  I am not getting weight loss surgery (as it could *kill* me), trying a fad diet, joining Weight Watchers (can’t afford it), signing up for Jenny Craig (can’t afford it and their commercials are incredibly annoying.  Their commercials alone make me want to stay fat.  Sometimes people who have successfully lose weight are most annoying) or Curves (can’t afford that either). 

I am going to do this thing my own way—slowly as I learn to enjoy food, exercise, and a healthy lifestyle.   I am not going to trade one problem for another.  I am going to trust my therapist and my doctor to treat my eating disorder, those close to me (who someone don’t even see my fat), and my God to make it through.

So, instead of focusing on whether or not I take one or two cookies, how my fat has ruined my chances at love, and why I’m fat, maybe you should take a look at that plank of condemnation in your own eye.  Hear that rattle?  The skeletons in your closet are calling.  You just don’t wear them on your physique for all to see and judge.

And while you’re at it, stop calling my mom’s dog “fat”!  Animals don’t like it either.

(Note:  All thoughtless remarks, insulting comments, and diet tips will be deleted.  Remember, I am Backseat Writer’s benevolent dictator.)

What is something you wish you could hide? (It doesn’t have to be physical.)  What thoughtless remarks are repeated to you by people “just trying to help”? (And how are you dying to respond?)  Do you think my mom’s dog is *that* fat? (I think she’s cute. By the way, I groomed her myself.)  Do you have a fat pet?  Do people comment on your fat pet?

Emma on “Glee” and Mentally Ill Me

In Tuesday’s extended episode (“Born This Way”), “Glee” tackled self-image, including appearance, sexual orientation, and mental illness. While this made for an interesting mish-mash of self-awareness, I found myself relating most to Emma Pillsbury, McKinley High’s neurotic guidance counselor. Since the beginning of the show, Emma’s been a bit (OK, a lot) of a “neat freak.” Early on, I got the joke, “The guidance counselor needs guidance.” Hilarious. I find it especially funny given that I’m a gal with a Master’s degree in counseling who suffers from mental illness.

In episode after episode, Emma frantically sterilizes her environment, and the audience laughs. Ha, that smartly dressed redhead! Each week I pretended to laugh along thinking that “Glee” just makes fun of everyone (especially Christians and virgins.) But last week, the show took a major turn—it started to address the issues associated with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Though an imperfect representation of mental illness, at least “Glee” is bringing the issue into the public eye, and not in the “funny” and endearing way that shows like “Monk” and “House” and movies like As Good As It Gets and Matchstick Men have addressed mental illness. “Glee” shows that Emma suffers from mental illness, that she suffers.

Mental illness is a strange beast—either it is portrayed as “not a big deal” (“Everyone gets a little down sometimes”) or as a monstrous disease that overtakes the lives of its sufferers (think sociopathic killers on crime dramas or the aforementioned dramatizations of characters with OCD.) Then there are celebrities like Catherine Zeta-Jones and Demi Lovato, who are willing to admit they struggle with mental illness, but they’re OK now. And, of course, Charlie Sheen who clearly has a mental problem, which he won’t admit. But where are the people like “Glee’s” Emma who live in spite of mental illness? Few and far between.

No one wants the stigma of mental illness. I certainly don’t want it to plague me my whole life. I am keenly aware about how much I say, wonder if I revealed too much, and ponder if I should just shut up about my severe depression and anxiety. I don’t enjoy the sideways glances I get from acquaintances that read my blog or hear a rumor about me. They wonder if I’m in my right mind, if I’m OK, but no one dares to ask what is really going on or how they can help me. I know the stigma; I live it every day. And like Emma, it keeps me sick. Someone rightly told me that secrets keep you sick. What if the secrets are about how you are sick…mentally?

Towards the end of “Glee,” Emma finally seeks professional help and is given a prescription for a SSRI, which she takes in her office (because who doesn’t want to down her first psychiatric medication at work?) With that swallow, Emma spoke for a lot of mentally ill people who have been kept silent. Yes, we suffer. Yes, we go to weekly therapy. Yes, we know we are mentally ill. But like Emma, we are not our illness. Emma does not equal OCD anymore than Amy equals depression, anxiety and the rest of the stuff my therapist writes on my diagnostic sheet. Emma is a person with OCD, not an illness, just like Amy (that’s me) is a woman who lives with depression.

And I bet you thought “Glee” was just a show about a bunch of underdog kids who sing and dance. In reality, “Glee” is becoming more of a phenomenon that is making outsiders (homosexuals, fat girls, the mentally ill, and more) insiders, which encourages all of us to be a little more honest about who we are.

For an interesting behind-the-scenes look at the Glee episode “Born This Way,” head on over to the Glee homepage (link).

Will you hold my balloon?

I feel like a little girl who lost her balloon.  The string is just out of reach, so she stands on her tip toes reaching, grasping at air, and ultimately failing.  But the balloon is so red and round and beautiful, so she tries day after day.  Reaching, grasping, failing.  Another day passes.  She reaches; her hand brushes against the string tied to the balloon, and she fails.  Other times, she snags that pesky balloon, and the string slips through her fingers. (The imagery filled my mind as I listened to “The Girl with the Red Balloon” by The Civil Wars. I highly recommend their album, Barton Hallow.)

I’m this fatigued version of myself scurrying around between naps trying to make ends meet.  My interest in the things I love has been gradually declining since December.  I am now at an all-time low.  The problem has to do with a prescription medication that is making me overly tired which has not only caused my depression to peak, but a slew of other side effects including bad headaches and bouts of dizziness.

I thought I wasn’t trying hard enough.  If only I push through my depression, I can make it.  I’m only tired because I’m depressed.  I’m only tired because I don’t get enough sleep. I don’t get enough sleep because I’m anxious.  I’m only anxious because I don’t do enough deep breathing.  On and on and on.  My mental reasoning itself is exhausting.

But, no, I’m actually physically ill from my medication.  When a prescription drug malfunctions, it really malfunctions.  While I’m not in imminent danger, I will continue to experience these unpleasantries until I can get an appointment with my specialist.

I considered whether or not this warranted an entire blog post, but I know that you are an understanding audience.  You are all in this with me and you understand why I need to go take a nap instead of writing a book review.  You will pray for me, encourage me, and stand with me.  Really, I have the best readers in the world.

Please be patient with me when it comes to posting content in the next couple of weeks.  I’ve really had to rally to write and work on Backseat Writer.  Thank you for your understanding!

I guess what I’m asking is this–will you hold my balloon for me?  I simply don’t have the energy reach or grasp for it anymore.  But I will.  Soon.

Update 4/14: I saw my doctor on Tuesday morning and he took me off the bad medicine completely.  Great, I guess.  Unfortunately, he failed to mention that I would have withdrawal symptoms like bad headaches, extreme fatigue (wasn’t that the problem in the first place?), and a general feeling of being out of sorts.  Today I am really starting to feel the effects of withdrawal.  So, I’m taking half a dose of the medication until next week, which is what I think he should have done in the first place.  I mean, honestly, what is up with these doctors?  The only doctor I really trust is my family doctor, even though I get paranoid beyond belief when I have an appointment with her.  Please continue to pray for me because this is not fun, but it should last 1-8 days and then another 1-8 days when I go off the medicine completely. Ugh.  I hate this.

Book Review:: So Long, Insecurity by Beth Moore

Beloved women’s speaker and author Beth Moore’s latest book, So Long, Insecurity (Tyndale), is her most personal book to date.  Moore, who has helped countless ladies break free, get out of pits, and dive deep into Scripture with studies on Jesus, Paul, David, and Esther, is now combating a stronghold in the lives of many women—insecurity.

Moore describes So Long, Insecurity as “one woman’s quest for a real, lasting, soul-changing security” in God, instead of finding that security in self or others.  The first part of the book identifies insecurity by its roots stemming from instability in the home, a significant loss, rejection, dramatic change, personal limitations, personal disposition, our culture, and pride.  Moore further explains these “roots of insecurity” and like always uses a ton of Scripture to build her case.

While the book magnifies a woman’s vulnerabilities, particularly involving image, Moore urges women to “press through the discomfort” so that the reader no longer has to “live in denial and bondage.” Being a woman who battles a ton of insecurity, I didn’t just read So Long, Insecurity objectively; I took Moore’s advice to heart.  I saw myself in so many of her illustrations; I knew my heart was ready for a revolution.

Fortunately, Moore doesn’t just identify and define all areas of insecurity she’s also givse us a look at a man’s insecurities.  She also offers practical advice saturated in Scripture that allows women to immediately begin their journeys toward freedom.  I cannot more highly recommend this book for every woman out there who hates her reflection in the mirror, who is exhausted from the illusion of perfectionism, who thinks she is unworthy of love, who was born on planet Earth.

So Long, Insecurity has tremendously impacted my life, the way I think about myself, and the way I know that God relates to me.  Because of the life-changing content and prayer exercises, the book can take a while to read.  But, remember, insecurity took years to take hold, so it won’t just magically disappear overnight.  Reading this book changed my life and had emboldened me to live a life secure in the love of God.  If you are a captive in the prison of insecurity, then So Long, Insecurity is your key to freedom.

[FTC Disclosure:: Thank you to my fine friends at Tyndale House Publishers for hooking me up with a review copy of this marvelous book!]

Take 5 with The Glorious Unseen

On a day of heavily anticipated new releases, The Glorious Unseen’s sophomore project, The Hope That Lies In You (BEC Recordings) could easily be overlooked, which is precisely why Backseat Writer is choosing to highlight this amazing album.  The Glorious Unseen’s music can technically be defined as worship, but it doesn’t let loose with the same lame hooks and rhythms.  Lead singer Ben Crist makes sure to provide original material with heartfelt lyrics that rightly reflect upon God’s glory.  Plus, The Glorious Unseen’s musical component is intriguing, sometimes melancholy, but always fresh. Because he’s awesome, Ben kindly agreed to “Take 5” with Backseat Writer.

The Glorious Unseen isn’t like most worship bands I’ve heard.  What makes your band fresh and unique?

The thing I always hear from people is that it’s the lyrics that primarily set it apart from other stuff.  There’s just a real vulnerability and honesty in the lyrics. I’m just writing from my personal experiences. I’m not exactly trying to write worship songs – but that’s usually how it turns out. I’m just putting myself into my art, and wanting to convey what’s on my heart. The lyrics definitely set it apart from most modern worship. The music does as well for sure; it’s all around pretty unique. For this reason, it has taken a bit longer to really “catch on” in that Christian market – because it is so unique. But it is definitely filling the void in the Christian music scene, so I feel that it will continue to gain momentum.

Tell me about the album’s title track, “The Hope That Lies In You.” What’s the underlying message of this song?  And is it the message that runs through the entire album? (Side note: Whenever I listen to this song, tears well up in my eyes. I love it.)

Yes, this is the overall message of the whole album – that despite what is going on in the world around us, there is a hope that lies within each one of us – and mainly in God. We don’t have any hope in ourselves apart from God. So, with God, there is a hope that lies within us – through God. This is kind of a “battle-cry” to modern day Christians that may be struggling with apathy and depression. We need to get up and go out and have an impact. We need to be reminded of this hope we have in Christ.  No more sitting around and being depressed – time for action.

The album’s first single, “Heavyhearted,” talks about God’s grace in the midst of wandering and shame. Would you please share about a time when you’ve felt heavyhearted and how you worked through it?

Ummm – today? Yesterday?  Every day?  Haha. Yeah, I mean there are times every day where I’m struggling with some feelings of being disconnected from God’s presence. Certainly, there are times when I feel this more than other times, but really, the deal is that God wants to pour our His love for me at every moment. He always wants to take me back in the midst of my struggle – in the midst of my shame – He wants to call me back to him right now!!! Even as I am typing this, He is calling me to his heart!! He is constant; he has no end. His love is totally huge and bigger than anything we have ever experienced.

There are so many amazing songs on The Hope That Lies In You.  Tell me about a couple of your faves, please!

It’s hard to pull one out right now because they’re all so new and exciting to sing right now!! I’m so stoked to start playing “Falling Into You,” “We Can Be Renewed,” and “Awakening.”  Man, I can’t wait to sing those lyrics.  They’re even more honest than the lyrics on the last record.  People have told me that the new lyrics are more serious even then the last record. I’m so stoked to get into those songs. It’s gonna be intense. There are some hardcore issues that we are dealing with in these new lyric–depression, separation, addiction, hope, pain, spiritual warfare. I expect these shows coming up to be intense.

Let’s move on to a lighter question—what’s one of the funniest things that happened while you were recording this album?

Hmmm… Probably the appearance of Trevor “The Phoenix” Mitchell. If you don’t know what that is – go watch our studio video blog.  That’s one of our producer’s pseudo personalities.

True Confessions Friday:: I’m Turning 29 on Monday!

It’s no secret; I’m turning 29 on Monday.  But what makes this a confession is how I feel about it–and I’m taking it hard.  I wish I was one of those girls who could smile and say, “Well, hey, at least I’m in my 20′s one more year.”  However, I’m much more erratic in my response, which is more like, “Omigosh!  I’m going to be 30 in a year and I don’t have a husband or kids yet!”

I know marriage isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—it’s hard work.  I just always thought I would be married by the time I turned 29, so I wouldn’t have to worry about being 30 and single.  True, I could meet a fabulous gentleman in the next year, have a whirlwind romance, and a quickie marriage, but I’m not even sure I want that.  I don’t want to be married by 30 just to be married by 30; I want an amazing marriage to a guy who beckons me closer to God.

Being single at 29 isn’t the only thing on my mind. When I imagined what my life would look like, I didn’t imagine this.  I didn’t imagine struggling with depression/anxiety or worrying about finances or wondering if God still listens to my small voice.  I thought I would be strong, confident, with enough money and enough faith to sustain my life.

Plus, I wonder am I old or young?  Like is it still OK for me to play Guitar Hero or should I move on to only Scrabble? (Or what if I play Scrabble on a Nintendo Wii—is that acceptable?)  Do I have to dress differently once I turn 30?  What about how I need to act—does that change?  Is there something I need to do during the next year to prepare for 30?  I feel like there’s some big cosmic secret the 30-something’s are hiding from me, and I don’t know what it is.

I know that people will tell me that turning 29 (and 30) isn’t that big of a deal; it’s just another milestone in this journey called life.  Yet it feels like a really big deal because it reminds me of everything I haven’t accomplished—things I can’t just go out and do!  I’m reminded of what I’m not and what I still want to be.  What happened to all those years when I could have done something?  Or did I just do the best I could at the time?

The funny thing is that raking up another year isn’t that big of a deal.  Time is all relative and God is beyond time.  My mother told me that God doesn’t care if I’m 15 or 29 or 52; He’ll use me at any age.  And thinking about it, Jesus didn’t even start His earthly ministry until He was around 30 (and He never got married!)  See, I’m just trying to be like Jesus…literally.

I’ll get through my birthday and it’ll be oodles of celebratory fun.  I’ll still be the same woman I am today at 28 than I will be on Monday when I turn 29.  And really, age is just a number, right?  Right.  Just bear with me if I keep turning 29 for the next 5 birthdays or so; I’m not sure I can handle 30…yet.  Then again, I don’t have to because I’m only turning 29.  Yay for me!  I’m still in my 20’s!

Maybe We’re All Depressed

While politicians like to talk of big things like terrorist attacks and global warming and where to put the rest of the $350 gazillion of bailout money, my friends and loved ones seem to talk of something else–depression.  Since I’m been open about my battles with that and anxiety the past few weeks, others have been telling me that they’re struggling, too.  I don’t know if seasonal affect disorder has gone amuck, but we could all use some rays of sunshine it seems.

My one friend just got out of rehab to a less-than-supportive family, save for her sister, my other good friend.  Another friend lost his job and his family is looking for direction.  A woman I know has been working a couple of part-time jobs to make ends meet and was dumped by a romantic interest who “just wants to be friends.”  Others like me are apprehensive about the directions of our lives and trying to make it through the day.  There are various factors at play in the psyche of the nation and people are just so danged down.

A lot of people are placing their hope in soon-to-be President Obama, like he’s some sort of messiah for the United States.  If he’s unable to turn our frowns upsidedown, will we “crucify” him?  It seems like an awfully tall order for one man, who isn’t even God-incarnate.  Even though I support McCain, I am hopeful that Obama can do some good things for our nation.  I want him to succeed and am proud for this country to have its first black President.

However, hope placed in a man is still hope that is misplaced.  In Jeremiah 29:11, God talks about the plans for He has for His people–plans to give them a hope and a future (my friend Alyssa named her blog, Plans for Hope, after this verse).  I don’t think this verse is JUST for the Israelites of old, but it’s for us today.  Despite all the stuff around us that compress our hearts, keep us awake at night with worry, and cause so much pain, God has plans for hope in our lives.  It’s just surviving on the tiny bit of faith we can muster–faith of a mustard seed.

I don’t think we’re going to become magically undepressed (or unanxious) because of my blog post, but through mutual understand and prayer and Bible reading and other inspiration, I think we can make it through this together.  Who knows how long this season of our lives will last?  But at least winter will be over towards the end of March.

I hate feeling like this.  You hate feeling like this.  Yet we’re all in this together, despite our separate stories, our journeys have joined us together on this path.  So, take your hand in mine and we’ll trudge through this depression (and anxiety) together.  We’ve no other choice but to believe God’s promises.

The Rugged Path

The other day I blogged about how the day after a long holiday (especially after Christmas/ New Year’s) is gray and mushy; I failed to mention that this time of year is particularly difficult for me in other ways, too.  The past few years I’ve had the after-Christmas/is-the-sun-ever-gonna-shine-again blah’s.  Three years ago, I was given an even bigger reason to detest the first week of January–on Jan. 6, 2006, my grandfather passed away.  I was there with him holding his hand as he died of renal failure, very painful and very difficult to witness.  It’s funny how the “happiest time of the year” can give birth to what I find to be the saddest.

I try to be real about what’s going on because I know someone out there probably feels just as beat down as I do today.  It’s as if the little spark that gives me zestiness and flavor has been extinguished…and I don’t know how to ignite a fire within me once again.  I lie in bed with my journal frantically writing down my thoughts–secrets known only between God and me.  If the depression doesn’t eat me up, surely the anxiety will.

I spend a great deal of time and energy fighting off the fear that courses through my veins.  The hormone adrenalin is already reacting to a non-existent fight-or-flight situation, so my brain races to find a fear.  It doesn’t take too long before I fall back on hypochondria, self-defeat, and other classic stand-bys.  The day has barely started and I’ve already been defeated.

I’m learning to rework my thoughts, to rail against the hormones, and to fight against these diseases that suck so much of my life away.  I pray to my God and find comfort in Him alone, especially when pat answers fall so very short.

When I experience these “flare-ups” (that’s what I like to call them), it’s hard for me to focus on little else.  I turn inward and upward because it’s all I can do to make it through the day.  Believe me, friends,  I am trying and fighting and winning.  The war isn’t won all at once, but by a series of battles.  It’s one of these battles I am fighting now, but I will win the war…or rather the war is won in Christ, yet the battle rages on.  It’s a strange sort of war, fought on so many fronts–personal, emotional, psychological, social, spiritual, and so on.

I don’t want to make it sound too pretty, too messy, or too personal; I merely want to explain what is going on.  I’m not looking for sympathy, attention, or any of that.  But I will humbly accept your prayer and thank you for taking my request to the throne of grace.

At times, the path becomes difficult to tread upon for us all.  Right now, it is difficult for me to walk on this rugged path.  But I will walk it anyway.