Depression (Part 2)

I heard someone say once that depression is becoming trendy. This was someone who didn't understand depression, and saw that one of the teens they knew was regularly posting depression memes on social media. They said "Oh goodness, depression has become trendy among these kids today, just like being gay or bisexual**. They latch onto it and it becomes something they use to get attention with. They aren't really depressed, they just like having an identity, and depression becomes that identity. Some kids are good at this, some are good at this, and some have this going for them, and those that don't often have that become their identity. Depression is the new "emo" if you ask me." I wanted to say "Dear God, I hope you never have to personally empathize with one of these kids. I hope you never become the only person they have to turn to, because you will F--- them up so bad."

**Also, news flash, the LGBT youth of the world often know more about who they are than you do about who you are, so sit down and shut up if you have anything to add other than love and support to that. 

Anyhoo...back to depression.

Are there people who don't have depression who are claiming they do so they can get attention? Of course. What you should do in this case is let them. If they aren't dealing with depression, they will get better, and move on. But if they are...and you are the type to trivialize (or ridicule) a person's feelings who has found a way to express them, you are one sorry excuse for a human, and you can do me a huge favor and unfriend me and stop talking to me, forever. Thanks in advance.

I remember very vividly the moment my depression became real to me. Up until that moment, I had only seen it as me being in a funk. Granted, it had been a three-year-long funk, but I didn't see it as depression. Depression is the "D" word. Nobody wants the "D" word. Just like nobody wants the "C" word. (Cancer)

In 2014, something very unfortunate happened to me as I was standing in front of a church. My words were misunderstood, and I lost something that meant everything to me.

In early 2015, I went to Emmaus, and on my 4th day, I asked God to lead me where I needed to go.

In late 2015, something very unfortunate happened to me as I was standing in front of a church. My actions were misunderstood, and I lost something that meant everything to me.

I decided at that moment that I hated the church. Not God, not Jesus, not Christianity...the church. I wanted no part of them anymore.

(For the record, we are back in church now, and God is healing me in that area, slowly.)

Back to where I began: My depression became real to me was one day as I was sitting on a park bench, looking at a school playground. Recess was currently going on, and kids were all over the place. I had always wanted to be a teacher, but those dreams seemed empty and useless at that moment. How could I teach a classroom full of kids when I was barely able to deal with my own life?

I love children, and teenagers, more than anything in the world. I got to thinking about how prevalent school shootings had become, and how deeply that hurt my heart. I remembered stories of teachers huddling with their kids in classrooms, praying the shooter wouldn't come in theirs. I thought about how wonderful it would be to save a child. Even just one. I started planning this out in my head. If I became a teacher, and heaven forbid we had an armed assailant come into our school, and I could take a bullet for a child..... That would be wonderful. My life could mean something. Not because I'd died a hero, but because I'd saved a child. 

(This was my train of thought. No lie.)

I was preparing to die. In a way God would approve of. In a way that meant something. In a way that would leave a legacy rather than shame. INFP's especially latch onto things that inspire them, to the point that they will devote their entire heart to them, for years. I hade devoted a huge part of mine to children, and I could think of no better or more beautiful way to go than to lay down my life for a child. Was I hoping a shooting would happen at a school I taught at? Dear God no; but if it did, I know where I'd be: Shielding a child.

This was the moment I knew something had gone wrong. My brain was not ok. I was actively looking for ways I could die. Ways that were noble and kind. Overdosing on pills is what messed up celebrities do. Poison was for Romeo and Juliet. I wanted to die for a child. Which was basically just saying "I want to die."

The reason I am going into all this for my second post, and leaving it here for today, is to go back to what I was saying at the beginning of it. If you see someone, especially a young person posting depression memes or poetry, or talking about depression, for the love of God above, take an interest in their heart. Do not trivialize their pain, make light of their feelings, or (heaven forbid) compare it to that ridiculous movie Heathers. 

Depression is real.

And somewhere in your life there is a person (young or old) who is sitting on that park bench. They may have all the reason in the world (externally) to live and hope for the future, but in their hearts, and in the mind, they are looking for any reason to hang on one more day. 

...for someone to understand.

Be that someone. 

Be that reason.