Confessions of a Depression Survivor: Chapter 2 Sorrow, Suicide and (More) Sleep

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Psalm 23:4

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor. I do not diagnose nor recommend medication for any ailment. I do not encourage that persons stop taking medication if they are on a regimen. I do encourage everyone to exercise trust in the Lord whether they take medicines. I stand firmly by something someone once said to me: the doctor treats but God Almighty heals.

Hi Friends!

Confessions of Depression Survivor is a blog series that documents my testimony of surviving Type 2 Bipolar Depression through the promise of healing in Jesus Christ. This series will consist of a number of chapters depicting the stages of the affliction and how I came out with more victory than I imagined.  

The aim of the series is to show that one encounter with the Lord can change EVERYthing!

What the enemy of our souls mean for evil, our Heavenly Father works it out for our good. Romans 8:28

Follow my story: 

See Chapter 1: In the beginning...

Chapter TWO

Sorrow, Suicide and (More) Sleep

I had been given sick leave.

My husband was concerned about my apathy. I just wanted to be left alone. When I was awake I prayed that the Lord would help me because I just had this profound sadness that was so thick that it felt like a real person walking with me. He suggested asking his mother to come by and stay with me. To this, I seemed to have amassed a great amount of energy to tell him no and that I was OK, that I needed to rest and I would be fine. So he let it be.

The next day, I was all alone and I slept for hours but once I woke up and I started observing the lines on my wrist. I guess that this was the first time I had ever done this because I was fascinated by the intricate design of the lines that crisscrossed each other. Then, I had a most remarkable but scary thought. I envisioned seeing a razor blade tracing a line that may actually go right across my wrist. I thought I could just select a line and trace it with the razor blade. I could see the scarlet river-like repository of my DNA being exposed and, believe me, the pleasure I felt at seeing it actually scared me!

I prayed to the Lord to help me because I said I'm a Christian so I'm not supposed to have suicidal thoughts! I was utterly appalled at the vision and the pleasure that came with it!

The days melted into each other as they passed. I lost track of time and the suicidal thoughts continued to visit me in the days.

Help! It’s Taking Over!

I noticed a pattern developing:

In the daytime, I would sleep for hours. Never mind if I ate. That wasn’t a priority. When I was awake though, I would think of ‘fascinating’ ways to kill myself. I say ‘fascinating’ because from the vivid images that formed in my head I derived a significant amount of pleasure. Needless to say, this pleasure from the suicidal thoughts scared the good Christian girl in me. I would pray fiercely about it but over time my prayers were getting shorter and shorter. I felt like the real me was becoming less and less and the suicidal, sad me was increasing.

In the evenings before my husband came home from work, the quietness of my home was like an abyss of loneliness. I refused to watch television. I refused to communicate with anyone. The evenings were just eerily quiet, fearful, lonely times.

In the nights there was other trouble. In the wee hours of the morning I would wake up feeling like I was going crazy… out of my mind because my mind was not clear. My mind was like the static on a television screen. I wanted to run and jump from a high place! I begged my husband to hold on tightly to me because I did not know what I would do. I was restless. Sometimes, I would pace the floor. Walking always did something to me. It seemed to stabilize my mood that kept shifting from doom, to sadness, to anxiety. I remember, one afternoon I just started walking. I walked and walked and walked and would have continued walking if the lessening piece of me that once fully occupied my mind suggested that I should turn back and go home. Walking home was long and tiring but I made it back home.

Just when I thought things could NOT have gotten worse…

My sick leave eventually ended and I decided I would go back to work. I reluctantly returned because everything was a bother to me, even my life. I was anxious all the time, or extremely pensive. I liked when I was very settled and pensive. I was just… still.

On the way to work that morning, I was always expecting something bad to happen. I thought another vehicle would slam into the back of the staff bus and we would all die or vehicles would hit me as I crossed the street. My focus became fear. I was in dread almost every second.

I abhorred when anyone talked to me or politely greeted me with ‘Good morning’, yet when I started talking, I couldn’t stop.

A part of my job was that I had to do filing. When I went back, I had a serious problem that impeded my job. All I could see on the patients’ test results were unfamiliar symbols that I could not decode. I knew that the symbols represented the patients’ names and I could not afford to file the results in the wrong folders! I dropped everything and ran to the staff doctor because

I had lost my ability to read!

What happened next was what I thought I had to do.

Chapter Three

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Click here for Chapter One of Confessions of a Depression Survivor. 

It's Your Turn

Have you ever suffered from depression! What were/are your symptoms?

You are not alone.

Share your testimony/story in the comments below. 

It may just save a life!