Stepping Out of the Darkness

Were you afraid of the dark as a child? Didn’t you hate it when your parents would tuck you in, kiss you goodnight, then reach over and turn out the light? I remember feeling so safe when the lights were on, but at the first glimpse of darkness, I got scared. I knew the Boogie Man was somewhere in my room.

Our lives can still be shaken when we’re not expecting to be in the dark. Things are going great as long as the light is on. But when the darkness hits, we don’t know where to go, or what to do. Depression is a lot like being in the dark. The lights have been turned off - you can’t find your way around the wall to the light switch. You reach out, you cry out; you still can’t find it.

Depression is the number one problem in America. Millions of people are affected by some form of depression each year. Over half of all women and one out of three men suffer from this disease and the numbers keep growing. The good news – you can find your way out of the darkness.

My chance came two months ago. For anyone who knows me, they know I am a strong-willed person. I tend to think I can handle things on my own. For those who know me best, they know I’m very prideful. I was living life full speed ahead and like the Energizer Bunny, I kept going, and going, and going! I had many things going on in my life: two jobs and no money, taking care of my ill father, helping to raise a close relative, trying to mend a broken friendship, and losing the one thing I had left, my car. My life had officially become overwhelming!

I have always been a care taker, putting others needs before my own. Perfectionism is a number one with me, so I didn’t have time to sit around and be sad about things. I had to pick myself up and get things done. I was far too busy to let life get in the way. I thought I was handling things very well, considering the circumstances, yet apparently I wasn’t.

I don’t know the exact day, but I remember waking up one morning and the tears just started flowing and they just wouldn’t stop. Someone could smile at me and I would cry. I would spill a cup of coffee and just cry. I went to work with baggy eyes and did my best to avoid everyone. I started to shut myself off to the world. I wanted to keep myself in the dark – the one place I felt the most unsafe. “I can handle this. I’ll get myself together,” I would say to myself. This was my problem and I would take care of it, just like I had taken care of everything else.

On September 19, I woke up to find that I could barely walk. The room was spinning and my head seemed to be in another galaxy. I soon found myself in the hospital. As I lie in the emergency room dazed and confused, I overheard the doctor mention the possibility of a tumor. All I could do at that moment was pray. I don’t remember much about the emergency room visit, but I do remember praying, and God gave me peace and calmness. The good news – I didn’t have a tumor! I had Vertigo, which is a dizziness and balance disorder. Add a dash of migraines that make you think you’ve gone completely insane, and you have the perfect recipe for a wake up call! I was overjoyed when I was told I didn’t have a tumor. However, in the midst of my celebration, I began to panic; who would take care of things? What about my job? Most importantly, what about my sanity? The real darkness had begun.


In between the wonderful pain medication that put me to sleep, and the irritating blood pressure machine that kept me awake, I managed to find time to think about things. I lay there wondering where to go next. I was literally at the bottom of the pit, and had only one place left to turn to. I cried, got angry, and screamed at God, but He listened. In the following weeks I had pity parties, I had questions, even accusations. Still, He listened.

As I slowly began to step back into the light, a new friend and mentor joined me in my walk back to my faith. She began to take me through the process of understanding what had triggered my depression. Through prayer and tears I began to unfold a long list of factors: poor self-esteem, shutting off relationships, trying to please others, just to name a few. Then I realized the big one – my failure to deal with the painful things of my past. The hurts that occurred throughout my life I had just pushed aside, buried. These things were finally coming to the surface, and I had to face them head on. So much of my time was spent running from my past that I didn’t have to focus on it. Keeping myself busy and helping others to run their lives kept me from facing the true facts. The pain was in the same place I had left it, just swept under the rug.

The past two months have been a “sifting” experience for me. I’ve had to comb through the pain of my own darkness. It hasn’t been an easy task. Although the list is getting shorter, I still have many hurts that need to be checked off the list: sexual abuse, fears of an alcoholic father, and the overwhelming fear of being a failure to others. It’s amazing how much you can make yourself forget. But, the truth is, you don’t forget, you just store those things away.

I went to the Fresh Grounded Faith women’s conference this past weekend, where I received some amazing spiritual guidance. Jennifer Rothschild, the lead speaker, who happens to be blind, gave me some amazing advice. She tells us that we can either carry around the shovel and bury our hurts, or we can sift through them now and grow with them. She asked the question that I’ll never forget. “Would you rather be a risk taking, life liver, or a hole making, grave digger?” Wow! I choose to be a life liver, not a grave digger. I choose to step out of the darkness, into the light!

I still struggle in my walk, but every day, it gets brighter. Even better though, I feel the freedom of being released from the things I could not control. I no longer choose to bury the memories; I choose to clean them out and make new ones. I am building a storage room in my heart for the wonderful memories that are yet to come, like falling in love, playing with my children, and laughing with my friends.
I can’t say there won’t be darkness in my life again; I’m sure there will be. But I do know that I will be able to find the light switch faster this next time. We can know that whether the sun is shining, or there is not a star in the sky, that God is with us, and He listens! Philippians 4:13 (NIV) says, “I can do everything through Him that gives me strength.”