Trauma is Brutal, Life is Hard, and Satan is Real

 "Go ahead."

"Do it."

"They won't miss you until they need a babysitter. Or a pet sitter. But they'll find a new one."

"No one sees you anyway."

"Go ahead. Do it.

The voice of depression can be so loud at times. Deafening. These statements, and more, have been on repeat in my head the past several weeks and I'll be honest, I've thought about giving in. There are days I'm so tired of fighting and I flat out don't want to be here anymore. So many people say they can't wait to get to heaven and hear God welcome them with, "Well done, my good and faithful servant" but at this point, I'd be glad to squeak in by the skin of my teeth (or salvation). 

I hesitate to share this because I there will be those that say I just need to 'get over' it and 'move on' already. Believe me, I get that. But here's the thing - if depression was as simple as 'moving on' or 'getting over it' there wouldn't be millions of people (me included) on antidepressants or anxiety meds, in therapy, in institutions, reclused inside their homes, etc. Trauma is brutal. Life is hard. Satan is real.

(I struggled with differentiating between attacks from Satan and a messed-up brain chemistry. How do I know if Satan is whispering in my ear or depression is rearing its ugly head? If anyone has some insights into that, please share!)

In the meantime, I struggle. In recent weeks, I have been dealing with a situation where my wants and needs have been discarded and ignored and it's set this black cloud over my head. There's nothing quite as awful as voicing your thoughts, concerns, and opinions and having someone do what they want anyway. My grandfather did the same thing for years and the sense of being alone and unseen that I felt all during my childhood has come roaring back into my forties. Fun times.

I wonder if that's a universal struggle - wondering if others see us. I know it's a reoccurring one in my life. I long for people to see me - not the babysitter, not the pet sitter, not the single woman whose (seemingly) perfect place is serving in the nursery at church, not the one people go to for advice or prayer. It's hard for me to type all those things because they are things I LOVE doing. I love watching kiddos and pets and serving in the nursery. I am honored when people ask for prayer or words of encouragement. But a part of me says there has to be more to this life than all those things. Something bigger and grander that will leave a bigger mark on the world. There just has to be more to this life, right? Right? But maybe that's the world talking. Maybe I need to accept that this is where God has me and find the joy and peace in it. A lot of days I think I'm successful at that but there are days I fall so short. Surely, I'm not the only one?

So, I continue on. For those worrying I would ever give into those temptations Satan whispers in my thoughts, please don't. I have some dear friends with a son who has transitioned into this quiet, deep thinker who is always pondering things. I've known him since he was little and even then, he asked about things that had never occurred to me. (I consulted Google a lot in those days!) All it takes is me imagining him trying to figure out why I - or anyone he loves - would intentionally and purposefully end their own life is enough for me to tell Satan to go back to hell where he belongs. 

But I will keep sharing my heart. Even when it's scary and hard. Because I have to believe others struggle too and if there's one thing this world can never have too much of, it's prayers and encouragement.