It was all I could do not to run back to bed that morning.
I was having a hard time starting my day. For no real reason except this is what the dysthymic brain does.
Instead of feeling alive, I felt this underlying current of agitation, thick brain fog, the need to hide out, knowing if I tried to get up I’d be completely off my game.
After three years now with my diagnosis, I know this is just my brain talking. But it’s also so much more. It’s a complete disabling of reason, it’s a kind of shutting-down that is chemicals and transmitters and broken mood not easily fixed.
I don’t type all this so you’ll feel pity. I type all this because I know there are others.
And I’ve learned that sometimes to get to a good place mentally, you have to get to a good place physically.
And vice versa.
Before the demands of the day could send me running for the hills, I slowly, and with much negotiating with my sluggish brain, got myself over to my favorite chair at my writing desk.
And it was chilly for spring but I needed air more than I could tell you. So I opened the window beside my desk while the heat in the house kicked on, and leaned close to hear the sounds of the day. Birds calling, someone trimming their lawn, various sounds of our street. I absorbed it.
I just needed to hear life.
I even pulled the sheers back from the window completely. I didn’t want to see through yet another filmy foggy shroud. I needed to see all the bright crisp day happening around me. I prayed it would reverse what felt so foggy and sluggish and futile and complicated inside.
I just needed to see life.
Before too long, the sweet pink of the miniature crab apple blossoms from just outside the window from where I sat, and the tulips that due to cold weather had slowed and remained in perfect bloom, began to whisper that here was goodness after all.
The flowering tree. The sun in the window. The sounds of the street. Birdsong.
I know they themselves don’t truly wake me, refuel me, restore me.
But they can become the small funnel, the holy conduit, through which my Father and His own refueling-presence finds a foothold within the tangled mess of depression.
His goodness, His grace and mercy, His faithfulness seep in and over and around, and invade the deepest corners of my dysthymic soul to get to me.
And He gives me life.
And it’s Him I’ve been looking for. For He IS Life.
Later that morning I came across Isaiah 41:10. This verse has been following me around all year. And I felt Him give that holy nudge, a reassuring and loving elbow jab to my spirit from His.
“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10
There is life in those words from His Word.
He is the Life that we often so desperately need to see, hear, have, know.He is the Life that we often so desperately need to see, hear, have, know. Click To Tweet
I thought about how my brain defaulted to its depressive state and it became hard to automatically feel His presence, that I had to fight and work to find a space that would reset my brain and in turn, find the Restoration no amount of self-help can give.
I had to commit again to memory that in every battle His evident faithfulness has gotten me this far, and will continue to do so. Had gotten me even to that morning’s window-view of His unrelenting good promises for me.
And I remembered my own words written so many times on this very blog to so many others.
Just because you can’t see Him, feel Him, hear Him, sense Him…. doesn’t mean He hasn’t been there all along. And when we don’t have the strength to hang on anymore, He does the hanging on for us, to us.
Back in my favorite window again today, in my favorite chair, at my favorite desk.
I see His hand moving the spring breeze through the branches of sweet crab apple blossoms.
I hear His goodness in sudden birdsong.
I feel His warmth and strength and peace in the sunlight spilling across the room.
And He brings me to life once again.
Linking up over the next few days with some amazing blog/writing communities! Click on each hashtag to join us!
And in case you’d like each future post to read from the comfort of your inbox, please fill out the subscriber box below! Appreciate you!