A couple of weeks ago, we had a teaser of spring weather here in Kansas City ... some warm, sunny gorgeous days. In one of my brilliant moments, I decided that I should dig out all of my summer clothing and see if anything still fit from last year. Once I started trying on clothes, it naturally followed that I should go ahead and clean out my closet. I spent the better part of a Saturday afternoon and evening bagging up clothes that are too large for me, and moving my winter clothing from my bedroom closet to the office closet. In throwing open the doors to my closets and cleaning them out, I found things I'd been looking for, things I didn't know I had, things that needed a good cleaning and things that should be discarded.
The whole concept of closets and the things we keep in them is something that's been on my mind for a while, and after the emails and messages I received concerning yesterday's post ... well, now it's pounding in my head rather than strolling through. And I'm going to warn you up front, this post is gut-wrenching for me to write on more levels than I can ever explain. But I read a post yesterday ... a very brave post ... from a fellow blogger. A post that inspired me, challenged me, understood me ... a post from someone who is living the same life I am living. Someone who is in the desert, too. Someone who knows, really and truly knows, what it's like to be a closet dweller.
I've termed the place I now reside as a desert. Others have called it the wilderness. The doctors have labeled it diabetes-induced depression. I've never been where I find myself; I'm 51 years old, and I've never pitched my tent in a spot such as this. I've always been a generally happy and positive gal, no matter what was occurring in my life. And even more than the general sense of optimism I've always possessed, I've always been strong ... I've always had this overall inner strength ... again, no matter what was happening in my life, I've always been able to dig deeply within and pull myself up or out or through. And most of all, since I accepted Christ over 11 years ago, He has been my strength and hope and peace.
In the blog I read yesterday, the author spoke of the feelings of weakness that washed over her, of how her mind screamed at her that she was a failure, of how she was powerless against the beast of depression that had invaded her life, of how family and friends could not understand the nature or cause of her overwhelming sadness. Again ... as I read her words, it was as if she was inside my head, living my life, feeling my pain. I've read a ton about depression over the last few months ... about the connection between depression and diabetes, about how lonely depression often is, about depression treatments and outcomes and research, and I've absorbed a tremendous amount of information. But her words ... her words meant more to me than any others I have read. Her words were brave and courageous and strong. Her words brought her years of closet dwelling out into the light of day and asked those of us who have been hiding at the back of our own closets to step out with her, to stop cowering or denying or running ... to step out and speak up.
I've written in the past about how hard it is for me to admit that I'm weak or to ask for help. I've talked about how I'm the one others lean on and that I'm not a good leaner. I've spoken about faith and strength and overcoming to groups of women across the country. I'm not supposed to be depressed. I'm not supposed to be weak. I'm not supposed to be lonely. I'm not supposed to look in the mirror each morning and beg for this to be the day that I find my happy again. I'm not supposed to war all day against the tears that so often overtake me. I'm not supposed to fear that there's something wrong with my faith. I'm not supposed to be here in this place, and yet, here I am.
So, there it is, and I suppose that some of you will judge me, and some of you will no longer read this blog because of my admission. Some of you, however, are living in your own closets ... maybe not the same closet as mine, but closets nonetheless ... closets of illness, of guilt, of fear, of sin, of judgment, of despair, of hurt, of so many things. Maybe it's time we all come out of those closets ... maybe it's time we all stop pretending ... maybe it's time we all be the open, honest, real and transparent sons and daughters that the God we claim to serve desires us to be.
One thing I've learned out here in the desert is that God wants me humble, He wants me on my knees, He wants me helping others, He wants me ...all of me ... imperfect and weak and frightened as I am ... He wants me, and He always, always will.
4 comments:
I think that is what is wrong with this world. There are so many of us who pretend to be something we are not. If people came out of their "closets", and stopped judging others, the world would be a much better place! Amen!!!
Your post reminds me of Matthew 7:1-2:Do not judge others, and you will not be judged. 2For you will be treated as you treat others. The standard you use in judging is the standard by which you will be judged."
Every one of us finds ourself in the desert at some point in our lives. If there are people out there that tell you different, well they are the really, really lucky ones. I've been there, was there for almost four years. I took some medicine to help, I leaned on family and friends, and I mostly leaned on God and my faith and in HIS timing, He pulled me through. My life is much different now, I am focused on Him and the things that really matter and have let all the other wash off me. Oh people have judged me and will continue to judge me for I made a wrong choice during my time in the desert. I find my consolence in Matthew 7: 1-2 when I think about them. When I asked God to forgive, He did. When I asked Him to help me, He carried me until I was strong enough to carry myself again. You WILL get your happy back, just stay on the path my friend.
i don't know why someone would quit reading a great blog...especially when it just keeps getting better and better! :)
it takes courage to admit you are not happy. that something is wrong. that you are hurting on the inside. that you are wandering in such a lonely place as a desert.
funny you posted this. i just sent an email to another cyber friend last nite about how i didn't invite hurt and sadness in, rather they invaded...and seemingly settled in. :) then they spread like a cancer...and before i knew it, i realized i was hurting on a grand scale! :O
love the title and closet inferences. a good spring cleaning never hurt anyone, did it? :)
love you girl! ;)
p.s. i've tho't so much about our desert conversations...sometimes i am led to think that perhaps we have more of a john the baptist calling. not necessarily a popular one...a different, much more lonely path for sure.
will email more on that later. :)
The desert you find yourself in sounds like the same one I wandered with PPD. I know that when traipsing through that time of my life, I sometimes thought I would surely die before making it out. But then suddenly, I would stumble right into an oasis. Cling to your own oases. The chemicals in your brain might try to convince you that they're mirages, but they ain't.
I am grateful as your friend to bear witness to your honesty. Looking the monster in the face is the first step to mercilessly pummeling it to death. I'm sending you happiness. And should the sadness pervade again, do as my momma has taught me: Offer it up. And then as my daddy has taught me: Just keep smilin'. Hugs and love to you!
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