Not so long ago, I was caught in a web
like an injured animal who was destined to die there....
Depression had a tight grip on me and there was nothing left for me to live for.....
I was like a deer that had been thrown by a mack truck, left by the side of the road to perish...
I felt like a snake that had been charmed into a dark tunnel and could not wiggle its way out. I was that precious bird who fell from the safety of its nest, crushing its wing, no longer able to fly.
Depression had a tight grip on me and there was nothing left for me to live for.
I wanted to die.
Every single day became a battle to get out of bed. Going to work was no longer a priority for me. If I went at all, I showed up late and cried on the way to get there.
Yes, my tears flowed constantly like a river of sorrow. I did not know, at the time, that these tears were released during intensive therapy sessions that had delved into my childhood.
Years of feelings that I had buried were
suddenly right on the surface of my skin
and I cried.
I cried for the little girl who watched her parents struggle to keep the family together.
I cried for my father, helpless to save him from a slow death at the hand of alcohol.
I cried for my brother, his wife and three daughters who perished in a house fire that roared out of control.
I cried for my friends and co-workers who seemed to drop dead all around me from the use and abuse of drugs and alcohol.
I could not stop crying, for hours on end. I wailed like a wounded animal.
I was a hurting soul and I was trapped in a dank, dark world where black shadows and heavy dark clouds hung over me day in and day out.
I did not understand why I was still alive, if you want to call the hopelessness that I felt, true living.
This was in the winter of 2002.
I share this testimony because I am alive to talk about it today. I am living proof that depression does not have to end a life that was obviously
A hospitalization in a mental ward in January 2003, a diagnosis of Major Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder began the road to healing.
God, brilliant doctors, caring nurses, gentle therapists took me by my hand and slowly pulled me up.
I could see the light of a new day was dawning as He told me that there was a bigger purpose for my life.
A regimen of medication, multiple
therapy sessions, positive thinking, dialog with other depression sufferers
who had learned to live life with
renewed joy and I continued to reclaim
my place in the world.
Mine has been a tough journey up from the pits of hell back to the light of day, and worth every single step.
I recently read poetry from a young person who seemingly has given up on her life. Her light has gone out. She has lost her joy, her zest for living.
Her words cried out to me, "help me! I am drowning and I have nothing more to live for!"
I knew then that I had to let her know that birds with crushed wings do heal
from depression and we soar!
We learn how to do positive activities that will keep us in the sunshine of His light.
We communicate our feelings through singing, writing, dancing!
We exercise, garden, we clean our house
and the houses of friends, of our elderly neighbors.
We buy a puppy or kitten; pet therapy works miracles!
We do whatever is necessary to survive depression. We gravitate to others who are truly living a life of positive action and thought.
We keep hope alive and avoid succumbing to the depths of hopelessness that seems to beckon us to re-enter that dank,
dreary tunnel where we were trapped
during our darkest days. We watch comedy movies and shows.
We laugh out loud every chance we get.
It feels so good to laugh, I swear it does!
There is help and there is light at the end of the tunnel. I have a flashlight and I am searching for you.
Please, let me help you.
copyright © 2007 Miriam L.Jacobs
Author Embracing Candace: Anthology One
All rights reserved.
No republication of this material,
in any form or medium, is permitted without express permission of the author.