my story of depression.

For seven and a half years, I tried to understand why my child died. She was thirty one years old and had a long life ahead of her. She was a mom. I could not fathom why SHE had to die. I could not face my loss for a long time and it was ugly. I became half a mom as now I had only one child left in my life.

My hatred for the world was beyond my own comprehension. It transferred to the ones that I had loved. And I hated myself. I hated God everyday. My hatred told me I really had no reason to still be here.

I put myself in a box called my home. My personal box was my bedroom. I slept. Then I did not sleep. I wept and then I became more hateful. I did not eat much then I would gorge anything type of food that was not nailed down in place. I did not want to bathe or shower. I looked like a walking zombie. I did not care about anything. It was my safe place to be sad and alone. The sign on the door of my dark room said “Do not enter!” “Stay out!” 

My family members could see and smell the hatred. It was eerily intimidating as I had been a strong person for many years. They would try to approach me but they were not able to penetrate the force field created by the person they loved.

Anything and everything that I did was really messed up. I felt like I was losing my mind. I tried to run a new business and failed. I lost my job as a Realtor. Everything I touched was be destroyed by my hatred. Gambling became a friend or a source of pain relief.  I was a broken person. 

I tried to find answers to resolve my hatred but there was an overwhelming cause that was even more difficult to face. My hatred had a friend, it was called Depression. I did not want to face its friend because it would mean that I accepted the reality that I was hiding from. I could not see it so it could just be there in the dark room with me. It was there but it did not have a name until now. Depression became my best friend.

I was a monster and it was not comfortable to be like this. I wanted to be better but I did not know how to do it. I was tough (yeah, right) and I could figure it out on my own. I bought books and started reading about depression and other mental disorders. I started waking up but was not quite ready to face the real world. 

I took a step backwards and it was bad. I felt like I did not deserve anything that had been a part of my former life. I abandoned everything and left my family and my home. I just wanted to be away from the real world. This step cost a lot of money and agony for those miles away from me. I had to go back home and face the music. It was not a good playlist. 

For the following six months, I faced my depression. I dealt with it head on. I got that I needed to get better. There were many bad choices made on my part but I said, “Here I am! I can face anything now! Let’s go!” And we did. Little by little, my dignity was further chewed away by those in need of answers. I gave them the answers and am humbly paying the price for the damage I have done. The price is still being paid today. Humbly and graciously I am putting the pieces back into a new normal for my life.