Clinical Depression?

I think I might have clinical depression.  It's kind of nice to admit, but exhausting to look at.  Just admitting it makes me want to take a nap and cry a little bit.

Yet, am I REALLY surprised?  No, not really.

I went to the doctor last week to do an annual appointment.  I asked her to do routine blood work including my thyroid.  I sat in her office weeping because I felt like something was wrong with me... hoping they'd find something that could be fixed with a pill of some sort.  She listened to me, very patiently, but at the end told me she doubted my blood work would come back with any problems.  She told me, very compassionately, that she thinks my problem may be bad clinical depression.  Then, in the next breath, she told me there was no resources in this town that could help me.  She said she sees people come into her office in a darker place then myself, but all she can pray is that they don't hurt themselves because there are no resources in this town to send them to.

I left her office very bummed, but still hopeful she was wrong.  Then I get the call today that my blood work is normal.  You'd think that would be something to celebrate, but I cried instead.  Then it's true, without God's grace, I'm screwed.  At least I'm screwed as long as I live here because the resources are limited.

See, this isn't the first time a medical professional looked at me and said something very similar.  I remember, in high school, I admitted myself into the psych ward because I just had no desire to live.  I sat there telling the intake lady how I was almost raped, bullied, abused, panic attacks, massive weight loss due to anorexia, rejection... the list when on.  They tested me for everything under the sun!  The doctors were all bewildered and told me, flat out, they couldn't find a single thing wrong with me.  They couldn't understand why I was so depressed.  A few days later, I was having a massive panic attack.  The nurse, who changed my life, was rubbing my back to calm me down when she said, "Janine.  There is nothing wrong with you.  The devil is just trying to kill you."  I realize, to my friends in the medical field, that sounds insane, but I find it to be true.  NORMALLY, if I can keep my eyes on Jesus, stay in the word, and work on my perspectives I can stay on top of the darkness/funk/fog, but once I lose track then it bombards me again.

Yet, I'm weary.  Exhausted.  My kids deserve better.  They deserve a mom who doesn't find it a chore to play with them.  Mind you, no one ever played with me as a kid, so I really struggle knowing 'how' to do that.  That doesn't mean my kids aren't loved.  I kiss them, hug them, and tell them I love them all of the time.  Yet, just the simple nursery rhyme overwhelms me because I don't know the lyrics.  No joke.  My friend just taught me the complete nursery rhyme "bakers man".  Now I sing it with Ben all the time because I know the lyrics.  I may hate playing with them, but I'm good at teaching and encouraging.

I've begged Jason to move out of this town for years, but recently I've increased my nagging.  I want to be in a town that has programs like, "Celebrate Recovery."  I've never been at my healthiest then when I was apart of that ministry at Vineyard.  I need to find people who understand depression and help you process your perspectives.  I've reached out to every pastor, or their wife, about my struggles and they always look at me like I have four heads.  They will say they'll pray for me, but no one - NO ONE - in this town has ever given me any follow through.  Or!  They have compassion and some kind of understanding, but once I leave their building I no longer exist.  I 'get' that pastors aren't equipped to help someone with depression, but what about follow through?  It's just so discouraging.  Am I really that screwed up that no one can help me? 

Ugh.  Thoughts/feelings like that only breed darkness because hopelessness creeps in and it's very difficult to combat hopelessness.

I've seriously battled depression since I was a small child.  A CHILD.  I've experienced every kind of abuse one could experience.  Thankfully, some of the abuse was less severe then what you hear about on the news, but nonetheless it was extremely scarring.  From sexual abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, spiritual abuse, HORRENDOUS bullying when I was younger, rejection, abandonment... No wonder I struggle with self hatred and depression.

But, once again, I'll "put my big girl panties on" and battle to have a normal life.  I'll look into exercise again to release good endorphins and lose weight.  That alone, at the very least, will help combat the self hatred that I struggle with.  I'll plug into the books and biblical resources I have.  I'll hope that, as I seek His love, that the Love of Jesus will finally heal this weary soul.

I just wish God would heal me.  I'm 33.  Haven't I battled this 'demon' long enough?  I understand empathy.  I understand compassion.  All of my friends come to me with their problems because I can empathize, have experience that has given me some wisdom, and because I love them where they are at.  Thank you Lord... but, seriously... Can't this battle just be over with?