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twin sisters. living abundantly. loving extravagantly. leading boldly. leaning deeply on Jesus.

Yes, Depression is Real, and So is Your Recovery – Jenny Bolt Price

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Three little pills.

Are my daily reminder.bfd53b4eeb2c7b666bd6dd52a8fb5cc9 photo by healthy place.com

My health is my choice.  There’s always an option to recovery.  But some days those of us who battle mental illness – secret pain – the scars that are invisible – we forget.

Some days.  Our friends and loved ones don’t recover.

They choose out.

In high school, during my cross country races, I would hyperventilate – even to the point of passing out – because I was just that serious about winning?

Panic attacks.

In college, I drank – not with intent to get drunk – just to have fun?  It only took two black outs (the sixth time I drank) to make me see…

Possibly with a twin sister battling drug addiction since age 14, high likelihood of…

Alcoholism.

So, when depression crept in, after my dad died (age 54 to colon cancer) – it was the third bout with mental illness for me.

And yet, in that depression – the first symptom, the heaviest one – the darkest hour – “I’m fine.  This will end.  I’m okay.  I can be strong enough.  I’m crazy.  They will KNOW I am crazy.”

Denial.  Avoidance.  Secret pain.  Pretending.  no hope. no breath.  just. life. happening all around.  it won’t stop.  and…

We got help.  I couldn’t do it for myself.  My husband was absolutely helpless – clueless – what do we do?  Where do we go?

But, thank God – he did something.  Because my something, as the days got darker, was just to close my eyes, and hope this all would vanish.

Even though there were three little people in my house who called me their mom – I just wanted to sleep – forever – not wake up.  Not to die.  Just to not live.

Three little pills.

My daily choice to stay in recovery.

Surrender.  I am not crazy.  I battle mental illness.

I want to live.  And when I take less of those little white pills – I get angry, overwhelmed, beyond.

When they know I “need” help – that’s a gift.  Because you see – we all do.

We aren’t meant to go it alone.  We all need recovery.  We all need support.

It looks different on all of us.

We don’t know the story of any other.  So, let’s be aware.

Mental illness was not my choice.  But, my recovery is.  And for those out there who are ready to choose out – there’s hope.  help.  here. we all need it.

Those three little pills are my choice.  Three pieces of my daily recovery.  If you’re too strong to need that sort of help – or to not need to talk to someone – or to avoid so many versions of help – it’s not okay.

Recovery is a choice.  We need you.

 

COMMENTS – What battle have you undergone that you now know is a part of your recovery story?  

p.s.  Meds are not for everyone.  But, there are way too many strong, spiritual, way too proud people out there – telling too many others – you don’t need help.  You can muster the strength.  Get help.  Of some kind.  Attend churches where recovery work is the norm.  Where depression is talked about.  As a pastor’s wife, I am so grateful I know addiction. I know depression.  I have a husband who suffered postpartum depression after building a house.  It’s real.  It hurts.  And having this in our past – only helps us love our church family better – not perfectly – but better.

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twin sisters. living abundantly. loving extravagantly. leading boldly. leaning deeply on Jesus.

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