I opened my eyes to the early morning. Right away I could tell today would not be a good day.

My first thoughts were of all the things I had to do that day. I felt the weight of life around me.

The thought of being in public made me cringe. These days were familiar. Days where I felt like I was suffocating and needed to hide in the sanctuary of my home, where feeling broken was safe.

I felt pangs of guilt, knowing I would break commitments, skip church, and bow out of coffee dates.

But I didn’t care, because I felt like I was slowly dying and that felt so much bigger than where I was supposed to be that day.

Depression paralyzed me at times. It’s strange how some days were so great, while others made me wonder, what would happen if it won? That scared me. There were moments when I wished I could have blinked out my existence. Not suicide, just erased.

This went on for almost two years.

I kept hoping for a break through moment, when it would all make sense.

God felt so far away when I was at my lowest. And that morning, laying in bed with a heavy heart, if he had been sitting there beside me on the edge of my bed, holding my hand, I wonder what I would have said to Him.


“God, why depression?”

“God, why don’t you help me?”

“Am I supposed to figure this one out on my own?”

Why do I have to figure this out on my own?”


Maybe these would have been ridiculous things to ask Him, but my depression was all consuming—it warped my perspective. Probably the more important question would have been what would He say to me?

I didn’t want another day like that. I wanted to hide under my blanket and wish it away. I prayed for the strength to get out of bed. I prayed for a sign that it would all be okay.

I pulled my blanket up to my nose and closed my eyes. Maybe if I could fall back to sleep, I would wake up feeling different.

Then I heard the creek of a door down the hall. The confident pitter patter of little feet heading my way. He arrived in the dim light of morning, his hair ridiculously crazy with bed head and a mile wide grin. It made me smile.

It was my two-year-old, Oliver, face bright with expectation for the day ahead as he rubbed sleep from his eyes.

I lifted my blanket and he ran the rest of the way to my bedside. I pulled him in to the bed and he wrapped his chubby little arms around me. Then he breathed an “I wuv you” into the crook of my neck.”

I slowly let go of all that I was supposed to do that day—the places I should have been. And I chose that moment. I chose the little boy I held in my arms. I chose life.

No matter how I felt, I could show up for my family. I thanked God for snuggly little boys as I buried my nose into the top of Oliver’s head, inhaling his little boy goodness.

This was so many of my days in the last two years.

Nowadays I feel like I’m getting better. I have more good days than bad and I am so thankful I feel like I’m on the other side of this journey.

But I did feel like God had forsaken me, because in my darkest hours I didn’t feel like I could turn to Him. I just didn’t know what to say. Not even to God.

As I was sitting in church this morning I was reminded that even Jesus in his final moments cried out to God.

“Lord, why have you forsaken me?”

If Jesus felt that way in his darkest hours, I guess it’s acceptable that I can have those moments too. I know he was in a much worse place, but life without God is scary.

They were the moments that pulled me through—like a little boy curled up in my arms.

What do I think God would have said to me that morning? Today, I know, I found it in His word.

“Hold your hand? Daughter, I hold you in the shelter of my arms. I am your refuge and your strength. I will take care of you and if you fall, I will catch you. Fear nothing, even in the darkest hours, no matter what this world throws at you, I am your protector and, I am your defender. Call on Me, and I will be there, always. Trust me.”




More like this? This is Motherhood {Too}- a story of Postpartum depression.





14 Responses to Depressed

  • Donna says:

    Thank for sharing your heart and your story honey….very proud of you and what you are allowing God to do in you. He truly gives us beauty for ashes.

    One of the hardest times in my own life was suffering through a bout of depression and anxiety attacks that would seem to strike at will. God used this time to build my faith as I leaned on and spoke His word over myself….not what I was feeling….because I knew the was subject to change. Daily I would have to say ‘God has not given me a spirit of fear but of power, love an a sound mind.’ I had to keep say this so that I would really believe it because my body and mind were screaming otherwise…..did God step in and take it from me?….not in the way that I would have wanted, but step by step we walked out of the torment into the light once again….and I knew that the greater one truly lived inside me and I was becoming an over comer.

  • Beautiful words and beautiful images, friend! These words are straight from your heart and I love them. Thank you for giving us a clear picture of depression and it’s complicated intricacies. Love you! xo

  • Anne-Marie says:

    Hi Daniela, wow this is my morning so many mornings. Fatigue has been my companion pretty much all my life. and I’ve tried so many things. Last year was lost to surgeries for sinus issues we thought were at the root of not getting enough air to sleep well. Whatever the cause, there has been no easy solution and pulling yourself up by the bootstraps a hundred times a day gets sooo tiring. The worst? Those folks who take a simple pill and life rights itself.

    Last night, I prayed that I would wake without the horrid exhaustion and sinking feeling. I woke after the first good sleep in a year. Breathing well. I guess maybe it’s a ‘my grace is sufficient’ answer. Which isn’t what we look for, but is so much more than we could imagine. Thanks for a word of hope. And for your honestly. It blessed me.

    • Awww, I am sorry you are struggling too. I think if medication works, that is so fantastic, but everyone’s journey is so different. We are not all wired the same. Thankful for you good morning and a good nights sleep. That is the best. xoxo

  • Idelette says:

    Love that you are writing it out … And love that moment of Ollie meeting you in the darkness. I kinda feel like that was and is God right there.

    I love you, my friend. Xo

  • Misty says:

    Beautifully written and said! It is what I needed to here. It’s been a hard season for me with post pardum depression. So encouraging. Thank you for the honesty and openness in sharing your journey with us all!

  • Amy Hunt says:

    How He shows up astounds me. How He uses our children to show His love always makes me think of how twisted I have it, thinking I will save my child; really, He uses him to save me. The unwrapping of His presence in my days, as “same-like” as they sometimes seem, reminds me that they aren’t the same and that nothing I experience is meaningless . . . He uses all things to draw me to see His love for me, and the depths He’ll go to show that to me.

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