The Weight of Depression

 

If you’re anything like me, then you know what it’s like to wake up in the morning feeling good, just to get smacked down when you suddenly remember all the sins, mistakes, and struggles of the day before. You lay in bed wondering what the point of getting up is, but you do it anyway.

 

You get ready for the day hoping it’ll be easier to be a good person today, but then you remember the horrible things you said yesterday. You head out the door hoping you’ll have better self-control today, just to see the empty bags from two separate fast food places laying in your car from the day before. You head out to work or to class hoping you can be a better student today, just to remember you’re behind on several large assignments.

 

It feels like nothing you do is good enough, so why bother trying. I hate waking up and getting hit with an anvil of anxiety and shame, disappointment and depression. Then, to top it all off, your friends remind you that they haven’t seen you in a while and they miss you; you bailed on them again the other day because the anvil was a bit too heavy that day and you couldn’t quite get the strength to carry it for the rest of the day. So now, not only are you not good enough for yourself, but you aren’t good enough for them either (though, they’d never tell you that).

Then, there’s your spiritual life. Yikes. You’ve done some dark deeds and thought some evil things. You couldn’t tame your tongue and you can’t control your jealousy. Maybe you haven’t talked to God about it in a while and you’re just hoping He hasn’t noticed all the crap you’re doing. Or maybe you’re like me and you still go to church every Sunday and pray each week that you’ll do better, just to fail again on Monday.

 

“Every day is a new opportunity; it’s a clean slate,” the shadowy, “all-knowing” they always say. I don’t know who “they” are, but apparently this is a common thought and saying. I don’t feel that way when I wake up, though. It’s been a struggle to survive this past semester, carrying my anvil around every day. It’s hard to treat each day like new when the anvil you’re carrying gets heavier and heavier with each new mistake.

 

I know I can put it down at the cross, but knowing and doing are two totally different things. The walk up the hill to the cross is hard enough without the anvil, but with it, the walk just seems impossible. I’m trying to understand the concept of grace, but it’s a work in progress.

 

So, if you’re anything like me, then you know tomorrow will be hard and heavy. I hope, however, that you’re enough like me to pick up your anvil and try again. Keep walking up the hill and maybe, just maybe we can both drop the anvil at the foot of the cross.

Blessings to you on your journey, Loves.

<3 Sarra

 

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