Tongue Tied | The Grace Between

Tongue Tied

I rarely find myself without words. Ask my husband. And yet, here I am, staring at the screen like I have so many times before, aching to tell you what’s on my heart with no idea how to say it.

The last time I wrote here was June, four months late on a birthday letter. I missed the next three letters. (Don’t worry kids, I still love you).

How do you talk about depression?

How do you talk about depression? About how HARD regular life can be. An ordinary life that is good, and full of blessing, and also really, really hard. How do you talk about drowning, in dishes and laundry and dirt and dog until you end up with a panic attack in the bed over what a failure you are? All I know is that I need to tell you (again) because maybe you think you are the only one.

You’re not.

In May, I decided I was tired of feeling the way I did. Depressed. Fatigued. And a host of minor random physical symptoms I couldn’t explain. In what can only be described as a whirlwind of questionable timing, I made some drastic lifestyle changes for me. (After consulting with my doctor, FYI, before everyone freaks out). I stopped drinking soda. I stopped eating gluten. I stopped taking my meds. Did you know there is such a thing as gluten flu? I did not. Those were a rough few days months.

Seven months down the road, and I’ve lost 15 pounds, and my insides are much happier, but it turns out I needed those meds. I also needed to grieve (again) needing the meds.

I don’t know why.

I don’t know why my brain stopped working the way it did when I was 25, invincible, and unafraid. I mean, I know what trauma does to the brain, I know how fear and grief change us, and yet, I still don’t know. I don’t know why I can’t take this in stride, the tween with ADHD, and the anxious eight-year-old with sleep apnea that produces epic emotional meltdowns on the regular. I don’t know why I feel numb in the face of so much hurt in the world, numb a little to the knowledge of the gospel, and the truth of God’s sovereignty and grace in the midst of our brokenness. 

selfie, winter hatI’m working on it, though. For the record, I’m getting better. We all are. I changed my meds. We’re getting therapy. I walk with my friends. I asked for accountability and prayers. I am saying no to more, and yes to the more important. I talk to God a lot. 

I have things I want to tell you that aren’t related to this. Thoughts about Christmas and advent and going on a journey to Bethlehem. But I can’t tell you that until I told you all this.

To recap, life is hard, brutal, even. But it’s magnificent too, and full of good gifts worth fighting for, and you aren’t alone in the trenches. So don’t mind me, I’m just over here fighting.

Pin It on Pinterest