Looking in All the Wrong Places

I have long chronicled my struggles with depression, anxiety, and loneliness. Sadly, it is something so present in my life that it has been recorded and I don't see it's presence lessening in any sense of the word soon.

People often think that these struggles are situational. Hell, I have often convinced myself that if only X, Y, or Z - then I would feel better and be a better person. I would be whole.

But the fact of the matter is that my brain and heart are broken.

Moving back home had very little affect on my depression for the better.

I think it actually made it worse.

Aside from gaining the sunshine, I lost an entire community. It's the community that I had painstakingly built over a two year period. I again lost a house. An environment. A town. I lost things. Seriously, I have lost a lot of things in the moving process. My husband and I often joke that we are just not allowed nice things. We either have to give them up because they won't fit in the new rental or they break in transit. Not to mention the "wealth" that we lose every time we move. Moving isn't inexpensive.

I lost connectedness. I also lose a desire to be connected. What's the point of it all anyhow? I have built homes, communities, roots many many times in my life. All to see them ripped from my hands - never really an excited or willing participant. I have always just been along for the ride. Whether it's growing up an army brat or being married and just making decisions that are best for my husband's career - moving is a great adventure. But not all great adventures are happy. Most are terrifying. And my life as I have often seen it is very much battered and bruised if one looks at it from a distance. Large portions of my life are simply collateral damage. I have scars from moving.

Each move. Each new adventure. However you phrase it, reopens the old wounds. It makes the old scars a little deeper. And in a sense - I hole away until parts of me can heal.

The point that I want to hearken back to is the connectedness and the loss of it. I feel its loss very deeply in my current moment. Sitting at a table. Surrounded by my girls. A friend has just come by and brought us a gift. We had an incredibly busy and wonderful weekend filled with new friends, old friends, and church family. And yet, I am so incredibly lonely.

It has nothing to do with the number of people around me or even the number of activities I am involved in. It has nothing to do with a lack of family or friends or my husband or my children.

Why do I feel lonely? Is it to do with moving?

Of course it is. Moving breaks all the constants. It makes all the old reliable muscle memory wrong and outdated and suddenly the light switch is on the other side of the bathroom wall. It is to do with the move, but it is also to do with WHERE I look to for my consistency.

Where is my constant?

Where is my True North?

It's my God. My faith.

And oh.....how I have been seeking to avoid Him lately.  I don't want to delve into the depths. They are too hard. They are too many. They are too dark.

And yet....HE IS LIGHT.

At my worst, I expect God to plunge me into the depths, but He truly does seek to pull me out. He shines light into the darkness and the darkness is overcome. There can be no darkness where there is light.

I know these things. In my head. There are whispers of this truth in my heart.

Communion with God is such a marvelous thing and it can connect me to the world around me. It can make me feel part, known, whole - even in the midst of loss and anger and depression. There is still a sadness and a loneliness when I am with Him. But it is so much greater when I hide myself away and refuse His company.

Turning away from that Communion leads me into those hard moments - those hard journeys - and all is unknown....even my own heart.

I hope that you are each found today in a place of connectedness - whether sustained or fleeting. I hope that you find Communion. I hope that whispers turn into screams and ripples into waves.

Find you in Him.