Part 2 in the series My Depression Journey. “Praise the Lord; praise God our Savior! For each day He carries us in His arms. Psalms 68:19
There were many reasons why I refused to accept a diagnosis of depression. One being, “how did I get depression?” There had to be a reason and until I could find one, I denied the fact that I had it, regardless of being told a second time.
It was 1986. My family and I had moved to a new community where we knew absolutely no one. I am a classic introvert and my husband is a flaming extrovert. His job introduced him to many people in the community, while I stayed at home reluctant to get out and about.
After a few months, it became apparent to me that I was sleeping more during the day and would go for days without seeing anyone except my family. At the time I did not make a connection to depression, but that is how I remembered my mom.
The community was small and a bit cliquish, which made it even harder for me to meet new people, but I did strike up a friendship with a few girls from church who enjoyed walking as much as I did.
I looked forward to our morning walks until I developed tendonitis in my left ankle and had to go to the doctor. It was bad enough to warrant a cast to insure that I would stay off of it until it healed.
When it was time for the cast to come off, the doctor alluded to my depressed demeanor and my state of anxiety, yet even with a second diagnosis, I refused to accept his professional opinion.
I would reject both opinions, until I figured out how “I got depression.”…………….
Great is His Faithfulness ❤️ Deb