Roar Boldly Into the Dark

This is a post about being brave that I have been afraid to publish for quite some time. If you are dealing with depression or suicidal thoughts, you can get help at http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ or http://www.iasp.info/resources/Crisis_Centres internationally.

I’ll never forget what it felt like. I was 19, staring at a routine mental health questionnaire I had to fill out as part of a physical.

I turned the questions over in my mind.

In the last 12 months, have you:

Experienced symptoms of depression?

Experienced suicidal thoughts?

I don’t think there’s been a period in the last decade where that hasn’t been true.

I didn’t want a label. I didn’t want to worry anyone. I didn’t want to be broken.

But I also didn’t want to lie.

I ticked the boxes.

A few days later, my cell phone rang. It was a check-up call. The “immediate danger” call.

The woman on the other end quickly determined that I was okay for the time being, but she invited me to come in and talk about some of the things that had been bothering me. A couple weeks later we curled up on some couches and I spilled my guts for a few hours. She listened. She cried with me. Then she told me I was going to be all right.

Actually, she told me more than that. She told me that I was amazing and wonderful. She told me she was delighted to see where God took my life, because He clearly had an incredible plan for me.

I left with hope that comes from having the truth spoken over you. Little concrete truths that you can whisper to yourself over and over again when the lies start to creep in.

This story could end here, and I would still feel pretty safe with what I had shared.

A few weeks ago, an acquaintance of mine on Facebook did something very brave by posting the following:

Hey guys! I’m really hesitant to post this, but I’m going to in case even one person needs to read it. Feel free to ignore.

I’m pretty open about my struggles with this stuff, so I don’t think this will come as a huge surprise to anyone. I fight depression, and I’m fighting right now. It’s hard for anyone who doesn’t fight it to know what it feels like, but if you do, then you know the deep, delicious, rich depression I’m talking about. That sick to your stomach, no desire to do anything, wishing you could just blow away like vapor, depression. I got that grade-A, vintage, “what does it all matter,” depression. Mm MMM. The good stuff.

If you are confused or think I’m being ridiculous, move on. This isn’t for you. If you know exactly what I’m talking about, it is.

I did know exactly what he was talking about. Thankfully, it wasn’t something I was feeling in that moment. I skimmed through the rest of his beautiful encouragement that followed, mentally high-fived him, and went on my way, thankful that while I’ve been there, I’m not there any more.

Then a few weeks later I got home from a dinner party. I wanted to work out a little, and I just couldn’t force myself to do it. I messaged a little with a friend, breaking into tears because something inside of me was aching and I didn’t know what. I tried to watch a J.J. Abrams talk and turned it off halfway through. I played a sad song and cleaned my room. I didn’t feel any better.

I looked at my journal and knew that writing would help. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew I was tired and needed to sleep, but I couldn’t get myself to bed. I sat there and my mind wandered through possible options. How other people decide to deal with this collision of complete aching and complete numbness. Where you feel so much pain but are paralyzed to do anything about it.

People harm themselves… I didn’t want to do that. I never have, and I know with bad habits, the first time is always the hardest, so if I can just stay away, I’ll save myself a lot of trouble in the future.

I guess some people drink or do drugs. As nice as it would be to temporarily be floated out of my consciousness, the same goes for these categories as above. Plus I have no clue how I would have access to them in my current living situation.

Some people decide to kill themselves and really get out of the situation. That used to be a very real option to me, somewhere I lived day in and day out. Thankfully it’s something God took away from me in the blink of an eye. Now that thought slips out of my mind as quickly as it slips in. It’s not an option. It is not what I want.

So I just sat there, frozen. Nothing to cope with that intense pain, good or bad. Then I remembered vaguely that my friend had posted about this. So I grabbed my laptop and went hunting for his post.

I read through my tears:

You matter. I’m grateful you are here. Keep going. Your life has value and the world is better because you are here. You create stories with your relationships. They are necessary and they are incredible. You are brave for trying even when you fail and you deserve to love everything you have ever accomplished. You are awesome and funny and the people in your life are not the same since you entered theirs. You can do this. You are better than this. You are bigger than the monsters in your head and you are braver than the demons in your chest. You got this. There are mountains ahead of you are still going to climb, and the view from there is going to make this fleeting moment in the valley a distant memory. There are still battles to be won and victories to be had, and you are going to be proud of yourself for fighting them. There are still people who don’t know how happy they are going to be to be around you. You got this. You matter. Thank you for existing. Thank you for adding to the planet. Thank you for your stories.

Do not quit. You matter. Love.

And I remembered what is always true: this horrible valley will soon be just a memory. This is not my whole life. This is a moment.

I sent my friend a quick message to say thank you. It’s difficult to share with people about these things. I’m always afraid people will think I’m ready for a mental institution, or think I’m just being dramatic. I also fear people thinking I live my whole life in this horrible dark place, and I don’t. To know there was someone else who knew my pain but still loved me was what I needed to hear.

He replied with what is possibly the most beautiful encouragement anyone has ever sent me. He barely even knows me, but he cares, and I have made it this far because of so many beautiful people like him who have cared.

The woman on the other end of the phone when I was 19. The friend and mentor who chose not to freak out when I told her of my desire to end my life later that same year, and instead responded swiftly and gently by helping me discuss how to practically decrease the stress of my commitments. The peers who looked me in the eye and confessed to fighting the same battles, then thanked me for being honest about mine.

In the amazing message I got, there was a line that convicted me:

“I don’t want to sleep safely in the warm light of day, not when there are people wandering the wilds. I want to roar boldly into the dark.”

Dealing with depression and mild social anxiety feels a little more acceptable when you’re in high school and college. You’re still figuring things out. Once you leave them behind, the pressure to appear strong gets even heavier. To be open about my emotional/psychological struggles makes me worry about my job. My relationships. I still worry that people will see me as broken.

But I can’t stay silent about the grace God has provided in this part of my life when I know others are still fighting this battle in the dark. There are people who will die today because they feel so alone and so buried that they can’t see the point of living. I have felt those feelings, but I am here today because countless people have been brave and pierced my isolation.

So if you are reading this post today and you are in that place, don’t give up. Hold on. Lift your head high and remember that you were born to fight. You are worthy of love simply because you were created. You are a warrior. You are significant. Your life could be the tipping point for so many others. It is worth living with everything you can throw at it.

To all of us, whether or not you have been in that place, let’s be better encouragers. Let’s turn our eyes out to those around us and take notice of how they are doing. Let’s all be more honest when we are struggling with life, grappling with demons. Let’s proclaim the goodness of the faithful, miracle-working God from the rooftops, even in the darkness, especially in the darkness, because He brings light.

Please, don’t worry about me. I live life with a toolbox full of emotional health tools and a heart full of people who are on my team. When the darkness is heavy, God is faithful and enough. If you want to help pierce that darkness, love, encourage, cheer on, but please do not worry. Instead, share your load with me, and I will share mine with you. Perhaps together, our loads will become lighter.