Owing to my stubbornness as well as circumstances beyond my control, I didn’t get to speak with a psychiatrist till yesterday. We a had a long conversation about what I’ve been struggling with this year, and also the previous year. She was alarmed that each of these cycles seems to last approximately eight months, and concluded that my “major depressive disorder” seems to be “recurrent” and “severe”. Having heard the same thing from various sources (general physicians, psychotherapists, priests, etc.), and also being in a much clearer state of mind, I can safely say I accept the diagnosis. We both agreed that though I’ve been feeling remarkably better lately, it would be a good idea to stay on my medication, as well as start talking to a therapist regularly. I know I could definitely use extra help processing everything that’s happened internally, as well as learn how to cope better the next time round.
Today, I got to talk to a priest whom I very much trust and respect. He has seen me in various seasons — fresh in the throes of depression, in post-recovery ecstasy, in a jaded resignation to the seeming futility of life — and he remarked that this was the “best” he’s ever seen me! We talked about how this might be a cross I’ll have to carry for the rest of this lifetime. How do I feel about that? Frankly, I’m quite okay with it. Though I know it’s easy to say this when I’m no longer in the depths of depression (just a few weeks ago, I was wailing about how I did not choose this life and that it was unfair of God to create me when I didn’t want to be created). My prayer is that at some point, I’ll be able to carry this cross not kicking and screaming, but with the hope, humility, and love with which our Lord Jesus carried His. Lord, grant me the grace to keep walking with You.