I’m worn. (A song within depression.)

I’ve been struggling with depression again, and found this song to help me put my emotions into words. I hope it can help someone out there too. Only through God we can find strength to carry on.

“Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God.” Psalm 42:11

“Worn” – Tenth Avenue North

I’m tired I’m worn
My heart is heavy
From the work it takes
To keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes
I’ve let my hope fail
My soul feels crushed
By the weight of this world

And I know that You can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I’m too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

My prayers are wearing thin
Yeah, I’m worn
Even before the day begins
Yeah, I’m worn
I’ve lost my will to fight
I’m worn
So, heaven come and flood my eyes

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That You can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause all that’s dead inside will be reborn

Though I’m worn
Yeah I’m worn

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:6-7

“I waited patiently for the LORD; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the LORD.” Psalm 40:1-3

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Near-death experiences – personal encounters with demons 3

3. Demon in the dream.

I’ve always had dreams where a demon would appear and I had to fight them with swords or words, and cast them out in the name of Jesus and they’d leave, but this time it was different. In my dream, I saw a demon coming towards me and I could not move or say anything and I had lost all my energy and felt hopeless. Normally when this happens, after some time rebuking it in the name of Jesus in my mind, my voice would finally come out and it would leave, but this time I had no strength at all. I prayed to God telling Him that I could not take it anymore, that either He teach me how live or take me away from this world, and as my strength and voice did not come, I prayed specifically for God to take me, for me to die, for Him to allow me to die in my sleep, because I could not even fight this demon and I no longer wanted to live, and that I wanted to be with Him and could not take living on Earth any longer, that it was too difficult for me. At that moment, I could feel as if I was about to die and at the same time I felt very loved by God and then suddenly I woke up with my dad kneeling beside my bed in tears praying to the Lord. When I woke up he told me not to die and that he asked God not to take me then. It was an overwhelming moment I cannot put into words.

 

Near-death experiences – personal encounters with demons 1

These situations happened about 3 years ago, in the midst of my strong depressive years and moments. I hope they can encourage some and open the eyes of others. I sincerely do not remember the order in which they happened. In all cases, before they happened, I was feeling very suicidal.

 

1. Blood on the sheets.

I laid down on my bed and felt lots of difficulty in breathing. I looked around and saw a black ghost-like presence around my room. I could hear the word “suicide” being repeated very strongly, in my head and also from my surroundings. I felt very afraid and reached for my sheets that were at the end of my bed. As I was going to put them on I smelt blood and realised it was coming from my sheets. There was no blood on them but they smelt like blood all over. I began praying (in my mind, for I could not speak) and the word “suicide” became stronger. I sensed that someone close to me was going to commit suicide, so I started praying for everyone in my family, one by one. Then as the feeling didn’t leave, I started praying about some friends that I remembered. But the word “suicide” only grew stronger. Then I heard something saying “you” various times and I started crying because I was “caught” wanting to commit suicide. Then I prayed for God to help me and take those demons away, and He did. The blood smell also stopped and I could cover myself.

The next day in school I found out a boy my age had committed suicide. He was in the same class that I was a year ago, but I didn’t know him and had never seen him. His name is the same as my name (just taking the end “a” away) and he is the same age as me. That was the first time I experienced the “substitution theory”, where when a death or accident is about to happen and someone prays for it not to, it happens to someone else, normally with some “coincidences”. In this case, it was supposed to be me, but as I prayed, it was passed to someone else. I believe God allowed me to pray for my relatives and some friends so it would not be passed on to them, for a few days later, I heard my uncle was wanting to kill himself but did not.

After this happened I heard of a story in which a demon appeared when some people were crowded around a person that had died. A few people saw the demon, one of which told me the story. The demon was waiting to get that person and take him to hell. But, that person’s wife saw the demon and started shouting that it could not take him, because she wanted her husband alive. The demon then said that he had to take someone down today and that man was the one, but that if she wanted, he could leave him and take her instead. She then told him he could take him, for she didn’t want to die. That’s the theory of substitution, in practise.

C’est fini!

After 3 years and a few months of being on high doses of medication because of panic attacks and severe depression, I can now say “C’EST FINI”, at last, in June 2013! I hope this post helps one have a greater understanding of what it is like to be free from something like that. It may be compared to being free from alcohol or any other type of drugs.

As the medication I was taking was strong, I had to start putting it to an end in slow phases. But, my family was passing through a difficult financial time and paying for them was getting very hard. To make things worse, my doctor couldn’t see me anymore. He had been replaced by another doctor that basically shouted at me that I wasn’t making any worthy recoveries and that I wasn’t doing my best to get out of depression and there were lots of patients he had to see and I was wasting his time. Needless to say, I had a panic attack and never went back there again. We searched for other psychiatrists, but they were all too expensive or far away. I felt hopeless and scared. After 3 years of taking pills every day and basically depending on them, I had to make the step of stopping. On my own. The thing is, even by stopping slowly (taking lesser pills a day), I still felt really bad. My brain was so used to the chemicals. Not having them (or having them in less quantities) was hard to handle. I felt weak, sore and depressed. But something inside me told me I had to stop taking the medications sooner or later, and that now was the best time to do so. I had a wedding coming up (MY wedding) and wanted to start my married life committed and depending on my husband, not pills.

As I said, my family was out of money and I was needing medication. As you know, we are Christians and believe in the power of prayer. My dad was asked to preach somewhere and there, a man he never saw came up to him and said he asked someone to give him a lift home, since it was almost starting to rain and my dad had to catch a bus and walk a lot. On the way, the man told my dad he had a strange dream that he was with a pastor in a car, the sky was very cloudy and he gave him money for medication. Then my dad said, “Well, I’m a pastor, you’re driving me home, there are the clouds and here’s the prescription. My daughter really needs this medication and I had no idea how I was going to pay for it.” The man then gave him the right amount of money to pay for my last pieces of expensive medication. Praise the Lord! It had ended at the right time for the wedding preparations.

Anyway, being out of medication is a big thing for me. It feels strange, to say the least. I don’t have it in my daily routine anymore and sometimes I feel quite lost without it. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fact I’m finally free from it. It’s just that it’s been part of my every day life for so long that without it it feels like something’s missing. I feel liberated, but scared. Weak, but powerful. I can’t put in words all these sensations. It’s hard, and sometimes I miss taking pills, but I don’t want to go back. Oh, no!

In resume, I think that miraculous event shows how God always takes care of us, and uses human-made things (medication) for our own good. I know He is healing me and I can testify that boldly. If He had healed me, say, one week into depression, so that I didn’t have to take any pills at all, I wouldn’t have all the experiences I have today, and not be able to help others in similar situations. God’s timing is perfect. He is constantly perfecting and teaching us. We do not know His ways. Our job is to trust in Him and have faith that the best is yet to come.

What is depression?

This is the best compressed explanation I’ve ever seen, so I wanted to share. I found it on Tumblr, but didn’t manage to find the original source. If you’ve never been through depression, you’ll never truly know what’s it’s like to be depressed, but maybe – just maybe – this’ll give you an idea:

“Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognisable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.

It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.

In other words:
1. Depressed people are sick, not stupid.
2. Depressed people need help, not judgement.
3. Depression isn’t chosen.
4. Depression isn’t a phase.

Chapter 1

This is a part of the first chapter of my book – that is, a book I want to write. I appreciate any type of comments on it. I intend to write it for people who want to understand a little bit of what goes through a person’s head when they suffer from depression, panic attacks, paranoia, ocd, autophagia, nightmare disorder¹, amnesia, grief, perfectionism, melancholia, insomnia, ednos, borderline personality, bipolarity, claustrophobia,  hypochondria, nosophobia, schizophrenia, avoidant personality, delusional disorder, bibliomania, agoraphobia and basically a bit of a lot of mental illnesses all combined.

Based on true facts (my personal experience – yes, I’ve had all the ones cited above and probably other ones I’ve forgotten to write, some more intense than others, of course). I believe God has allowed me to go through all this to help others, since I truly know what it feels like to be how they are. They are all horrific states to be in. I don’t wish for anybody to suffer from any of the symptoms I did and weep for those who do. My prayers go out to all of you who have experienced these terrible things. I’d love to help you, so please feel free to talk to me about it. I’m almost completely recovered, and you can join me on this journey towards true freedom.

I also want to write this so that people may know that there is always hope for the broken-hearted – no matter how lost they are – and that, with God’s help, recovery is possible!

 

*TRIGGER WARNING* – PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER IF YOU HAVE TROUBLE WITH TRIGGERING CONTENTS.

Usually people like ending books with “and then I woke up” to surprise its reader, because the story was about a dream or nightmare. But, this narrative is quite the opposite. In fact, it starts like that.

CHAPTER 1

…and then I woke up.

Damn. I shouldn’t have. I would rather live dreaming. However, I don’t have a choice, do I? The real world awaits. Although trances are ten times more preferable than having the most boring monster of all times – routine – as a 24/7 cohort, the thought of getting stuck in a random daze in the wrong place and at the wrong time causes apprehension.

The non-sleeping life is all about planning schedules, writing them down on a paper or in your head and following its policy. Truth has to be told: the reason this is done is not to guide ourselves – it is rather to control how much time we have wasted and how much we failed by not achieving the procedure. In other words, it’s a pessimist’s way of dealing with optimism, because, to them, hope is a risky inclination they avoid to fall for.

Considering the act of being hopeful as the opposite of worrying, anxiety is faith’s antonym. The uneasy feeling people have about the past being gone, the present being now and the future becoming present and past so rapidly, has to do with lacking hope to pursue steady life-goals. The inner agitations, caused by these thoughts, create fear, and fear has a funny way of ruining everything. In fact, it’s such a funny way that’s it’s not funny at all. It’s as cruel and atrocious as the irony of the deep pleasure of having doves eat out of your hand while scratching your arm brutally until it bleeds and all the food is gone. While you stand there, static, with blood dripping from your body, you inhale the pain and smile widely, forgetting to blink once in a while. You always relive that moment in slow motion when fear passes by and welcome it once again – sometimes by just biting your lips and trenching your teeth, other times by grabbing a pointy object and sliding it across your body.

In order to understand how to deal with situations like these, it is important to understand what fear is. First of all, it must not be seen as something bad, because it is one of the various emotions humans feel to facilitate one’s awareness of a potential threat.

(…)

nightmare disorder¹ – evolved after some time, and I’ve had it for almost 3 years. The book will not mention it in the first chapter, explaining why the narrator (me) still liked sleeping.

Act fast.

She knew what would
happen.
That didn’t change
what she would
do.

The thoughts were rushing
now.
So fastly that
they stopped.

Nothing was left except
the option
that poured itself
against her
mind.

The consequences
would hurt.
Hurt like fire.
Hurt like rain.

For it’s not only bad
when it burns –
When it’s wet
it’s just as
evil.

Except it’s masked
in a perfect
disguise
she wouldn’t fall for
any more.

Too many times before.
In the past.
In the future.

But in the present, no!
This time she was
convinced.

That is was air
she was
breathing;

Lacking.

And it was blood
she was
seeing;

Smelling.

Quickly now.
There’s no more time.
There’s no more
time.

Run!

Die.

18-05-11