for the Postpartum Support International Blog
December 11, 2017
“Dear Depression” appeared first in Jennifer’s blog, heretobehuman.com
You came and visited me today and I cannot thank you enough for stopping by. You taught me an invaluable life changing lesson that I never would have learned if it weren’t for you. And for that, I am grateful. I am more than appreciative. I am blessed beyond words.
You taught me something that perhaps I could have read in a book, but not something I could have truly understood without the grace of your presence. Without the thoughts you brought and the feelings that followed. Without you, depression, I would be none the wiser.
Not long ago you came to me and you said my joy wasn’t possible. You said there was something wrong with me and you played with my loved ones until I broke down. You talked in ways I didn’t then understand and you brought feelings of low lows that made me question my okayness.
You made me question things that caused even more discomfort and you sent me packing upstairs, to my mind— the place where these answers only get more complicated.
From the view up top, in my mind looking down, I questioned you. I questioned why you were here. I questioned you as if there were something wrong with me. I contemplated whether life was supposed to be like that. Hard. And sad. And full of funky lows.
Maybe I was flawed…. Maybe there actually was something wrong with me…. Maybe, maybe, maybe…
I questioned you all day long and looked for answers outside of me. I reached out for support and questioned some more. I was convinced that someone other than me had the answers to my questions, to my heartaches.
But dear depression, I was wrong….
You told me something you will forever remind me of whenever you come to visit. I know I’m human, so from time to time I expect you to come visit, but I know now that the next time you come and each time after that, you will remind me of this:
That I can feel you without being you. I can feel the thoughts that encompass your depressive undertone, but that does not mean that I am you.
That like a friend stopping by, I can greet you and love you and grace you with my presence, but that doesn’t mean that I am you, and that you are me.
It does not mean that I have somehow been lost, somehow been changed, or somehow been flawed. It does not mean that I can’t experience you without your changing the course of my day, or the course of my life. It does not mean that you are an inherent part of me, or that I am you.
It means that I am still who I am, and I am still who I’ve always been. I am my kind soul. I am my big heart. I am my greatest gift and everything I long for. I am love. I am my happily ever after and everything else in my life just adds to my already whole soul.
It means that you can come over, and that you can come visit, and that you are even welcome.
But it doesn’t mean that you will stay forever, because I know that when I stop listening, you eventually get bored. I know you mean well and I do too, so please, dear depression, hear me when I say….
I appreciate what you’ve told me and the work you’ve had me do. I appreciate your well-meaning suggestions and I appreciate your crazy ideas. And next time you stop by I won’t be so unwelcoming. I will greet with you with the love, the compassion and the grace you deserve. I will respect your presence and not wish you away. I will be reminded that I am human and that no human is perfect.
And we are exactly, when and where and with whom we are meant to be because:
Jennifer Smith is an intuitive healer, life coach, and writer. She helps her clients find peace of mind from their intrusive thoughts by empowering them with awareness and understanding. She helps them feel like themselves again by taking them inward away from their minds and their thoughts and back into their hearts and their wisdom. She has personally turned her severe struggles with postpartum anxiety, depression, and OCD into her biggest strengths and now uses her experiences to better guide her clients home to their souls in the most compassionate ways. She is now fully recovered, (with the exception of being human), and resides in a small town outside of Vancouver B.C. She is now engaged and living her happily ever after with her fiancé and daughter of 15 months. Her website is heretobehuman.com