Along the other symptoms, which drain the blood out of your face and take the spring out of your walk, depression arrives with the lack of hope, positive vision and with fears instead of faith.
There may be medical reasons fueling the incapacity described above which too many are forced to face these days. I believed that my experience of it was a result of a medical condition, initially. Yet looking back, I am convinced that a combination of untamed and not always legitimate desires paired with constant negative confessions had been momentous in bringing it to my doorstep.
Whenever asked how I was doing, for one reason or another, I had a tendency to answer: “Quite bad actually.” I was very skilled at finding issues to complain and be miserable about…
Well, when the ‘bad actually’ seeds were fully developed, there was I – alone in my room (a lot), weeping, watching TV, and then weeping some more. I was planted on a sofa unwilling to share my life with anyone other than me.
As far as I was concerned, there was nothing to share. Nothing, but pain… People used to look at me with confusion.
“There is nothing wrong with you. You have everything that you need and more”, they would say.
“I have nothing worth having and everything is wrong with me!” I would answer…
To me, the pain was tangible. To others, it was invisible…
On a quest to finding someone who could see my suffering, I turned to general practitioners allowing them to practice their general knowledge on my particularly designed body and mind. When they failed, the specialists came to the rescue – except, even their skills were neither specific nor broad enough to heal my issues.
Irrespectively, once I had graduated from the standard check-up stages, the money began its voyage amongst the medical crowd. My real friends were pushed aside while endocrinologists, psychologists and their colleagues became my surrogate paid friends.
Nevertheless, on this occasion, even money failed to speak on my behalf. My body was behaving strangely and I felt physically weak most of the time.
Eventually, the doctors unable to find any physical ailments diagnosed me with… depression.
“Great! People can no longer say that I am imagining things!” I thought. It seems useful to mention that prior to the medical one, the lay diagnosis had been ‘Loony!’, or ‘Hypochondriac’ by those who tried to be more understanding or cared to sound more politically correct.
At first, upon hearing ‘You are depressed’ I felt understood and hopeful that since the problem was recognized there was a prompt solution on its way…
This moment of happiness was short-lasting though. It wore off quickly as it was becoming apparent that pills were not about to help. On the contrary, they actually made me feel more overwhelmed and suppressed emotionally. I felt even odder – like I wasn’t me anymore. I was never happy to be me, but this fake ‘anti-depressed’ feeling I deemed to be even worse.
Sounds like a no win situation, doesn’t it? Yes, it does. But there is good news.
Those were bad old days, but then… I was introduced to the Church and to the Lord, came across inspirational programs of Joyce Meyer, Pastor Chris Oyakhilome and others. I gradually turned to a disciplined study of the Bible and based on it materials.
I finally began to locate my freedom while learning to fight for my mind, or rather to fight against it by embracing His Mind. I am still learning how to continually win in this war and the promise found in Isaiah 25:8 “…and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people He will take away from all the earth…” continues to be seen in my life increasingly.
I am not a psychologist, nor a psychiatrist, not even an emotional well-being enthusiast so much. I may not be able to point the parts of the brain responsible for depressive moods. Yet, when Zoe Onah asked me to write a few words on this topic, I was eager to share my story.
I have experience with this ugly thing known by this almost sophisticatedly sounding name ‘depression’. I also have a God who knows where it comes from.
Whether from the West, or from the East, it does not matter because He knows how to send it right back to where it belongs – out of your mind.
Depression thrives where fear resides. Fear is the exact opposite of faith. Therefore, a sad heart needs to connect with the Author and the Finisher of Faith before things can truly change. The same Author freely gives even practical tools (for me, one of these is writing) to deal with what is not conducive to joy.
Once a mind is fully handed over to the Most High, depression becomes a distant memory. Sad endings belong to the stories written by sad minds.
I hope that the story written by yours will have a happy ending.
P.S. The following are my pages:
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This content was originally published here.