"Two things you will never have to chase: True friends and true love." -Mandy Hale

While I know the above quote is true, for some reason it is still so hard for me to come to grips with.  The friendship part makes complete sense to me.  But the true love.... it seems I fail again and again there.

If there's one thing that I believe is truly heartbreaking, it is being strung along by someone only to be dropped the moment someone better comes along.  Because as you think back on the time you spent together, you realize that you were nothing but a place-holder.  Little comments and remarks that at the time that seemed like no big deal, you realize what he actually meant.  And wonder why you were so blind to it at the time.  I have spent the past couple weeks feeling hurt, but also feeling foolish for feeling so hurt from something that didn't even last very long.

And if I have to go chasing after it, then there really is nothing real about it.  Because it's all an illusion my heart wants to believe is real, even while my mind is telling me the opposite.  So here's to moving on, seeing my worth, and not losing the faith that perhaps, maybe somewhere out there is my soulmate.

I once had a belief that depression was something that was entirely in the control of the person suffering.  I thought people could just choose to feel better.  It was a "spiritual" problem.  But due to circumstances out of my control, depression has actually been the one constant in my life for the better part of my teens and twenties, and now my thirties.  It just turns out I was really, really good at ignoring it.

I spent all of high school thinking I was caught in some spiritual battle.  I haven't really shared this with many people.  I just needed to "trust God more."  Spend more time reading my Bible.  I used to cry to my mom, wondering why I didn't have joy,  happiness, or surety, or any proof of God's love for me.  I wondered why I couldn't relate well to people.  I lived in this terrifying fear of... what I don't know.  Ever since I could remember as a small child, I had a fear of God, that much I know.  It followed me throughout my life.

And I still haven't worked through a lot of this stuff, but one thing I've learned is that I suffered from mental health issues from a young age.  But because of the environment I was raised in, I couldn't get any help for them because I couldn't name them.  Depression and anxiety were not real, they were simply spiritual battles.  I turned inward because of all this, and it took me until I was 29 years old to get help.

I remember when I finally was diagnosed with my eating disorder.  I knew I suffered with one for years.  I knew that it took root when I was only 15 years old, growing and growing and often going in and out of remission until it took over my life for the better part of my late twenties.  And when I got that diagnosis, it gave me strength to finally work on it because now I had a name for it.

It is the same with depression.  I felt weak for starting therapy and medication.  And when I started actually feeling better because of the medication, I felt confused.  All this time I could have had this help.  I could have felt more alive, more like everyone else. (Or at least what I perceived everyone else felt like.  Because many people struggle in this same way and are good at hiding it as well.)

I guess I don't know where I'm going with this post.  As I sat down to write it, this isn't even where I was planning on it going.  But I feel so confused and angry with church, with religion, and I'm only just now actually processing that.  I feel let down by the one place that should have been my refuge and yet was the source of so much of my suffering, and I didn't even know it until now.  Most people felt hurt by church for different reasons than mine, but somehow I feel that church twisted my mind, a mind that was already very fragile and susceptible to this sadness, this darkness that has hovered over my mind like a dark cloud for so much of my life.

I believe in God, I have hope in who He is and what He has done and can do for me.  My faith has changed as I've grown older, but it remains.  But I struggle with the Evangelicalism I was raised in because I have such anger over it.  My whole childhood was defined by it and I can't shake it.

Anyway, perhaps more on that another time.  I probably sound like I'm walking around with this anger all the time, but for some reason as I've been dealing with my depression, this is what I keep going back to.

Yesterday, I cooked.

I realize that this probably seems so strange that this is such a big deal to post about, but it is.  I have not cooked once since last July.  Yes, seriously.

Why?  For some reason, I couldn't.  Call it a combination of my depression and dealing with my eating disorder issues, I just had no motivation, energy, or will to cook for months.  No matter how hard I tried.  Yes, ingredients were often bought and then thrown out after not being used.

So yesterday while I was standing in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and herbs, I felt a little bit of myself returning.  Cooking felt good and right again.  I was listening to music and singing along just like I always used to, and it felt joyful.

And I can't believe how excited I am that this small part of me has finally come back.  I enjoyed it and wasn't just doing it because I had to.

Yay for the small (HUGE!) victories!

Connection.  It's what we are made for, and that is why the end of a relationship hurts so damn much. To love someone, share so much of yourself with them, and then losing that is the just about the most pain anyone can go through.  It's called heartbreak for a reason.  My heart feels as though it is literally broken right now and will never feel whole again.

And yet the way I'm talking you wouldn't know that it was a choice that I made.  I hate myself for it.