It took a long time of fighting depression but I’ve survived it. I believe depression is a state of mind and from my perspective and in my opinion, far too many medications are given to those with depression, rather than therapeutic intervention.
I want to tell you this story for a very important reason, if you have experienced depression, like I have. In my opinion there’s no place worse. I really hope people can find hope and solace in my story.
When I was 25 years old, my father was found dead of a heart attack on the floor at home. My sister called me on the phone and said, “Get over here, Annie, I think Daddy is dead.” I jumped in the car with the kids and was there in five to six minutes. I tried doing CPR, but I knew it was no use and my Daddy was gone.
I stood up and something deep inside me began to arise. A deep moan, a wailing of insurmountable and very intense pain. In a firm and slightly elevated tone, I asked, “What kind of loving God would take him like this? I hate God!” The paramedics arrived and continued CPR and inevitably gave up. From that time forward, I was very angry.
When we arrived at the hospital, they had us go to the quiet room, you know, where no one will see or hear your grief, as well as you are made to wait, knowing that your loved one is gone. Although it feels like an eternity, the doctor arrives to make your loved one’s death legal and with a somber face, tells you what you already know. And all I knew, was how damned angry I was.
My father’s death was totally unexpected. Already angry, aggravating my pain, my Daddy died 2 days before my birthday.they wanted to bury him on my birthday, but I spoke up and insisted on a different day. No way was I going to let them bury my dad , whom I loved very much on my birthday.
My father was buried in Willamette National Cemetery. Made me feel proud, not of just my Dad but all the other vets that were there. I used to have my husband take me up there so I could sit at his grave and tell him how much I missed him and cried. This happened several times, until one day my boys asked me, “Mommy why do you come up here and cry?” That made me stop and think, “Why am I doing this?” After my boys asked me this, I began to realize that my depression and anguish was affecting them too. But my intense feelings of grief, depression and anguish continued. So I thought about writing my feelings on paper, but it would a few months more, before I could really sit and write them down. When I began to write, the very feelings I was expressing at the cemetery, sitting next to Daddy’s grave, poured out on paper.
I was so depressed, in the following months after Daddy died, and yet still had two small boys and my hard-working husband who needed me and all I did was sat on the couch and cry everyday. Feeling lost and not knowing what to do, I called a psychiatrist, made my appointment and only went for three visits. This was a very unpleasant experience and I knew I didn’t want to return. So in my search for answers in easing my depression, anger and grief, I began a spiritual journey instead.
I went to a variety of churches, differing in denomination from the Metaphysical to Baptist, to Non-denominational, to Evangelical. The metaphysical ‘church’ so called church was really weird for me. One time, they turned off all the lights and listened to a medium for an hour. That experience was enough for me! The last time I visited, as I was leaving, this guy walked up to me and said ” I can contact you’re father for you for $ 20.00″. I thought to myself “This is definitely not the place for me”. So my spiritual journey continued.
I went home discouraged again. But continued to try. I went to a Nazarene church and met one of the Pastors, P.D. James and continued go back a few times, and he noticed that during service, that I would be crying. I believe he saw my grief beyond my tears, but what was more in-depth with my heart. He saw my depression, pain and anguish and began coming to my home to witness to me. He told me about Jesus and his saving Grace. I would sit there and cry, cigarette in hand, chain-smoking away. . . knowing his words to me were more in line with my truth and the truth for me, of Christ and His love for me.
Even though Pastor James was trying so hard to reach me, the depression and anxiety were present. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see my Dad’s face as well as having horrible nightmares. So I lay in bed crying and praying. I really didn’t know how to pray, so I kept saying the same words to God, “Thy Will Be Done Lord”, over and over. I don’t know how many nights I prayed that same prayer, but I know that I prayed for a very long time.
One night as I lay in bed, not asleep but praying my prayer, I felt and sensed the presence of Jesus spirit. There was no speaking by mouth , it was his eyes and what He said to me. “Don’t worry Annette, I AM with you always even unto the ends of the earth I will not leave you as an orphan I will always be with you.” I got up the next morning and felt better. The healing took time, it did not happen overnight. I read my bible and started learning a lot. The more I learned, the more faith and grace I received.
Since then, there have been many more challenges in my life that have been very painful and where I’ve had bouts of depression and anxiety, but I know, that for me, my faith is my strength.