Before I talk about depression or the addiction that shackled me in the past years, let me explain the gag I wore.
Make up is dirt. But what about emotional make up? If you met me especially in Uni you’d know me to be someone who didn’t care much about life and had almost no friends and walked alone. Head down, avoiding human contact as much as possible. And with a worn out smile. What you obviously didn’t know was the fact that my grades were in the gutter. Or the fact that I depended on my addictions to live. Or that I was basically free coasting through life.
I made it a point to look normal. Happy. Not needing help. I’d smile when people called me “dbee” and I’d allow horny jerks to touch me anyhow. Why? Honestly, I just didn’t have the energy to do any serious thinking or stand up for myself. And my self esteem sat deeper in a trench than my grades.
About a month down the line, I’m beginning to understand certain complexities. Like how I’m the righteousness of God. Or a Heir of Heaven. Or a Vessel of Honor. But the one step I took before any change happened at all was to drop the veil.
I had made several attempts at enjoying the “fullness of God”. So much so that the thought of going back to church had began to irritate me. Each time I’d act okay in church. Oh I’m just fine. I grew up in church I don’t need to be your sheep. Ive seen all this before, I just need answers.
Answers to questions I wasn’t asking. I was in a hospital. Seeking treatment for symptoms I had not disclosed and was getting angry that I wasn’t finding my antidote.
I can’t give anyone any answers for anything. And reading the Bible on your own won’t give you answers either, trust me. You need to find a Christ believing church to go. Brief advertisement here, you’d be better off going to a church with relatable people and people you can open up to easily. If it would be hard to find those in your extra large adult dominant church, Enter “Love Economy Church” into your Uber or what ever taxi app you use. Find a branch and talk to an elder.
Where was I? Yes, my happy facade prevented me from seeking help. I looked normal, I looked happy and I looked like I was “jamming”. What you don’t know is I slept facing the wall so I could cry myself to sleep. It was either that or numbing my mind with shots of vodka or some pot cakes I’d buy from a cute boy upstairs. Comfort food was a need. So I expanded conveniently from a size 10 to a size 14.
I spent all my energy trying to smile. To look alright, that I sunk deeper in the quicksands everyday. A good romance was a quick fix. When I genuinely liked a guy I’d do relatively better in school and I’d drink less, eat properly and cry less. The result, I looked better. But they always ended as soon as they started. I only attracted broken specimen that I quickly realized I was better off without.
I pity you if you attribute clear skin to mental wellness. I had impeccable skin and nothing but a ritualistic application of epiderm twice daily to thank for it. Thinking back now, I lived to look alright and I never thought to find a way to get better. Or maybe I was thinking too hard. My solution had always been there.
My salvation began the day I decided to take the make up off and reveal the ugly. Not to anyone really. Just to accept to God that I needed help and that I had no idea how to find it.
I know there’s many of you, reading this right now, smiling through pain, heartbreak, depression. I know the last thing you want to read about is God. I can relate. But I can tell you this. He loved David. With his adultery and murder and constant disobedience. So much so that he said himself in Psalm 52:8, I trust in God’s unfailing love forever and ever. How much more you that has never killed a man? Even if you have, Paul Gods personal pet massacred hundreds of Christians. God loves you. He always has, He always will.
The first step is to wash the make up off. And I pray that the love of God that manifested itself to me, even when I was His enemy, manifests itself to you also.
Grace and peace be multiplied onto you.