I made myself breakfast this morning: pancakes, eggs and chocolate milk. It’s really simple, but I wasn’t able to do even that for a long time. Everything feels almost normal again. I clean regularly again, so my apartment looks presentable. I do the dishes. I’m still lazy and it takes some effort to get out of bed in the mornings, but I do it. I still don’t feel right. I can function, but I’m still depressed. I want to be able to cook more than one meal a day. I want to feel like doing my schoolwork. I have a test in three days that I haven’t studied for.
My counselor asked me if I could live with this; if I never return to full blown depression, but I don’t get any better than this, can I handle it? I told her that I hope it never comes to that. But after a few days of thinking, I’m not so sure.
Don’t get me wrong, it hurts. But sometimes, when I can think clearly, I see the benefits. I’ve grown to know and love God more during this period. I’ve learned to trust and rely on him. I can see how much I’ve grown. I remember thinking, for a few minutes, that maybe God should leave me this way. But that’s only when I’m sensible. Some other times, I’m like a child getting a vaccine. I don’t care how much it helps, I just want it to stop hurting. Right now, I’m kind of torn between the two.
I remember reading somewhere that in our life God gives us ups and downs. During the down periods, we grow and during the up periods, we recover from the downs. The downs help us grow, but if we can’t stay there forever because it hurts so much, it takes a toll. But if we had the ups all the time, we wouldn’t grow very fast and we would probably get the wrong picture about God. We wouldn’t learn about suffering.
It is not a lie, what they say, that suffering is good for us. But apparently, you can have too much of a good thing.