True confessions of a functional depressive

A little something you probably never knew about me... I have spent a lifetime honing my skills and achieved many years ago the level of "master" in the art of making both masks and boxes. Not the type of mask worn once a year on Halloween; my finely crafted masks are worn every single day of the year. And my one box creation cannot be seen by others, except though the use of an inner light.

I have worn many different styles of masks in my life. Some are reflective of my true self, while others are false; an illusion worn from time to time to help hide, or shield, my true self. At times I even fool myself and am not always certain who I really am, nor how many layers of masks I am wearing at a time. Peal one away and discard it, only to find another mask beneath.

Most often worn are the masks of humor, and its twin, happiness. These are my greatest creation, and I wear these smiling masks often. They are the most effective in my collection. When I laugh, make others laugh, and portray the illusion that all is bright - I can for a moment in time hide, even from myself, the reality which lies beneath.

That which cannot be hidden behind the mask of humor, is easily concealed by wearing the masks of tiredness and exhaustion. The catch-22 of wearing these masks is that at times I really am overly tired, or actually happy. The trick is to be able to recognize when things are real, and when they are but an illusion. It is at night and when alone, when no one else can see me, that the masks finally come all the way off.

True confession time: I am what can be called a "functional depressive". I'm sure you who know me probably don't believe this statement. After all I am very practiced and skilled at portraying the grand illusion that all is well. And I do so with a great measure of success.

Daily I have viewed the outside world from within the darkened confines of my one and only box creation. It is a small but substantial, yet empty, box. It is a place of entrapment. At the same time there is a familiarity that, interestingly enough, provides a certain semblance of security (better the devil you know...). I have often longed to escape, and envisioned myself continually pressing my hands against the walls and ceiling, desperately trying to find a way out (not unlike one of those annoying mimes that you just want to shoot). Every once in awhile a breach in the barricade has been found, and I escape for a time - only to wake up once again back in the box, wondering if it was all just a dream.

Clinical depression goes beyond what is commonly thought of as a down mood, or situational sadness; when a person is still able to have some element of enjoyment in life. This depression on the other hand can totally drain a person of their interest in life and connections with other people. It can, in effect, erase ones personality traits and alter who they really are.

Viewing life through the lenses of depression is analogous to the words of Paul the apostle who spoke of seeing "through a glass darkly" (1 Cor 13:12). This is a very apt description of how a person in depression view themselves, relationships, and the world in general. Everything is overshadowed with a darkness, where joy and happiness are considered to be figments of imagination. Thoughts and resultant feelings are skewed and distorted from what is truth and reality. However, these same thoughts and feelings are so integrated and entwined in a severely depressed person's mind that they are honestly believed to be absolutely true.

I have passed in and out of many episodes of clinical depression in my lifetime - some much worse than others. Severe depression is a scary and dark place full of painful, almost unbearable, despair. It is during these times that I have truly believed things like... I am and will always be completely alone. Friends, light or joy do not exist in the "real" world. Everyone would be better off if I weren't around. If there is a God, then why would He abandon me in a place like this? I must be an unworthy sinner to be left in the darkness like this. And many other such distorted thoughts would fill my mind.

It is a blessed and wondrous thing to announce my latest escape from the box wherein I have lived so many endless days and nights. My hope is that this time my escape may last. The shadow of my former prison is still there, and probably will be for the rest of my life. It is waiting for me to step back inside, should I choose to do so. I do not choose to do so! No one in their right mind would willingly make such a choice - but many times depression is not a choice. I still have my "bad" days, but thankfully they are not remotely equal to my very "worst" days.

I sincerely wish to offer my eternal thanks, first to my Heavenly Father - who I know will never give up on me, even when I have sunk into darkness and doubt. To the few people in my life who I have allowed to know about my struggles. Without their love and constant support, I wouldn't have made it this far. Other people, not even knowing my state of mind, have also been inspired and have reached out to me in friendship. Inviting me into their homes and into their families, at a time when I truly needed it the most. All these acts of love and fellowship have done wonders to strengthen my anchors holding onto life and hope. Without all this (and more), I'm not exactly sure I would still be here.

So here I am... bruised and battered, but still climbing the mountains in this game called life. One day I pray to be able to say, as did Paul, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith" (2 Tim 4:7).