To Write Love On My Arms

A week ago, I let people who mean a whole lot to me, literally write love on my arm, for forever. And I told you I based the idea off of To Write Love On Her Arms...but maybe you don't know much about this organization. And I'm quite certain you don't know why I'm passionate about it.

I've struggled with depression since I was 15 years old. At first, it manifested itself physically in terrible terrible headaches that couldn't be explained with any amount of testing, insomnia, and a total lack of motivation to do anything besides lay in bed.
Then they sent me to a counselor...I told her she was wrong.
Then they sent me to another doctor, who I also told he was wrong.

I fought them because I didn't want to be that person. I didn't want that stigma attached to me.
I didn't want people to treat me differently. 

Eventually, I realized they were right and I was tired of feeling the way I did so I started looking for ways to deal with depression without medicine. I am still rather opposed to ever being medicated, the short while that I was was awful and I was a total zombie. Anyway, I eventually came out of it and thought I was good forever...until it came back. It came back without warning and stole my light. It stole everything beautiful and wonderful in the world until all I felt was hurt.

I tried to hide from it, to mask the pain, to not feel anything at all. And I usually succeeded in the not feeling anything department. But that only lasts for so long. The hangover shows up and the warm fuzzies wear off. So I'd do it all over again. Over and over and over always trying to squash the pain in my heart. 

Then one day, it all changed.

One day I took a leap of faith.

I asked for help.

I let someone in.

I let someone love me even though I didn't feel like I deserved it.

That's when I got my life back.

That's when I realized that hope is real and rescue is real.

Unfortunately, I've since learned that this struggle isn't one that plans to leave me alone. It still pops in from time to time and hits me like a semi truck. It happens for no reason at all and I have no power to stop it even though I wish I did. Those times are hard. They present me with a daily, hourly, by the minute battle. But I will always fight because I've learned that things can be beautiful and full of light again.

I've learned not to be silent about it. I've learned to let people in. I've learned to let people love me. I've learned how much God loves me. 

Many times I need to be reminded of that and need to be told that I matter.

But it gets better.

I know when it's happening now.

I know better how to deal with it.

I know how not to "deal" with it.

I know that even when I'm at the lowest of lows, I'll eventually pull back out of it.

I know that people care.

I know that love is real and it is powerful

So, now I have love written on my arm. And some day, maybe not far down the road or maybe years from now, I'll need it. I'll need to look at it and remember the good times and good people. I'll need to remember the ones who cared when no one else did, the ones who listened, the ones who were there.

But most of all, I need to remember that there might be people in my life who are hurting, who may be afraid to speak up, and who need me to write love on their arms. To let them know they matter and that someone cares.

In case you're wondering why I decided to share this...well I don't know really. I guess I kind of had 2 goals in mind...1 being that I wanted to put a face and a story to this thing that so many people deal with but no one really understands. I want people to know that someone they love might be fighting and might need love. And that if you happen to be reading this and you relate, I want you to know you aren't alone.
My other goal is a bit more selfish in that I wanted to take away the power that depression held over me for so long. Trying to fight it alone and hide it and be "normal" consumed my thinking. Always wondering if someone might have figured me out and if they thought I was crazy. Putting it out there on my own is my little way of letting you in, of realizing I have nothing to hide.
Love is real. Hope is real. Rescue is real.