The Fight for Joy

 I've struggled in the throes of depression, that battle I know well. There were traces of it in high school, battles in college, and later in my life, well... low grade depression affected me every day. For ten years. 

As I think about it though, I'm not sure it was clinical. Each season I faced was circumstantial. In high school I was lonely, in college I had to find my identity. The ten years kicked off of a manic high in 2009. I lost my job, and I went low. But in the process of losing it I was starting to go. I was struggling with identity again. I felt my job was a dead end, but I had no way out. I was supposed to go to seminary that fall, if I recall, and my best friend didn't send in a recommendation. She was fearful because of my manic episode. But I wonder if she knows her fears and worries took such a toll on my life. I've forgiven her, I think. Maybe. Maybe I've buried the offense down deep. Jesus, I choose to forgive. Even though it's taken a toll on how I've been able to live. I mentioned I was stuck for ten years in depression. It took a pricey dating coach to pull me out of that pit, that's my confession. He taught me in life, I must choose to not be the victim, if I wanted to live fully in the end. So even though the expense let to financial ruin, I would choose to hire him again. 

Those ten years were miserable, and I wondered often if I was under a curse. Maybe the victim mentality was the curse. Woe is me I cried, as my lost jobs multiplied, Working in fast food humbled me, as I have a cherished college degree, and I can't forget when I got kicked out of grad school. I felt like such a tool. And ironically, it was my meds that ruined me. They were way too strong, they tranquilized me, I felt like I was always sleep walking. 

There were also spiritual battles, demons sent from hell. I remember those battles all to well. All I have to say is, I'm glad I survived them. I didn't always win. But in 2021 I got sick of them. I fasted and prayed all night long, I gave to the poor, I sang praise songs, I vomited them out, it was so gross there is no doubt. But my battle was spiritual, not in the natural, not in the flesh. I finally found my deliverance. 

But then I recall, back into that sin I fell. I cannot say now why, but ever since then I've cried. But I haven't had the same desperation so... Jesus help me get sick of this sin. Jesus help me hate the devil and determine He will NOT win. 

So... if only I had known not to play the victim, maybe much sooner my victory I would have won. But my friends never confronted me of my sin in believing those lies. They showed compassion but pitied me and kept me paralyzed. Now when I think of that period I'm tempted them to despise. I choose to forgive them, they cared deep down. They didn't realize I needed confrontation, that my bitterness was ruining me. They loved me the best they knew how. I recognize that now. 

I just wonder as I ponder how I learned to fight for joy. If gratitude had been a tool to help me destroy my bitterness. Because truth is my circumstance wasn't fair. But pouting about it didn't help me with a testimony to share.