MY MEASURING STICK

Have you ever heard someone refer to the “Black Dog”?

It’s not their pet they are referring to…but a most debilitating form of depression.

I am quite familiar with this illness, as it has a hereditary factor for many in my family.

I too, have depression and have suffered with it for many years. My mother and four sisters have also been diagnosed with this condition.

It’s hard for people to believe this when I tell them….  as their comment is “ But you’re always so happy and full of fun”

Yes, even at the saddest time of my life I could disguise my real feelings.

You may ask where was God when I needed him. Make NO mistake he was there with me every step of the way.

God and I became especially close when my first husband was dying from lung cancer and I took up a lot of His time.

I remember a nurse saying to me. “Use this as a “measuring stick”…whatever you have to face in life, will never be as bad as this again”

I stood at the church and smiled as I greeted mourners at his funeral. I could not have done this without my Father God holding me up!

Up until Doug’s death in 1984 I must say my depression episodes were short lived. It was after this sad ordeal that I needed to seek medical help. The medication the Doctor gave me didn’t help much and it had side effects. So I stopped taking the tablets.

With major changes in my life …because I remarried, I moved to Victoria.

This is when I got to know the “ Black Dog”

I cannot put into words the feeling of utter helplessness and fear that took control over me. My sick, painful existence was masked by humour.

I never ever thought…I was lacking in faith… and that’s why God didn’t heal me immediately.

I knew God would help me, but how?  I prayed for an answer and He led me back to the Doctor.

The Doctor was amazed when I told him I had never though of harming myself.

Actually it was the futurist thing from my mind, as I wanted to live a full and wonderful life. Consciously or subconsciously I was mindful of my “measuring stick”.

After a year of blood tests, talking to my doctor and experimenting with several tablets I responded to one in particular.  My brain needed extra Serotonin.

The Doctor explained…if you were a Diabetic wouldn’t you take Insulin …

This medication eventually restored me to a happy and contented person.

Fred and I retired to Buderim in 1996 and I was so well I stopped taking the medication. After six months I was seeing signs of the “Black Dog” returning so I recommenced taking the tablets at a reduced strength. I have accepted that I will have stay on them for the rest of my life.

Where is the pointer on my “measuring stick” at this time? With God’s help it is sitting on “ very happy”. For this I praise and thank Him!

Cast all your fears on Him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:6

NOTE: I urge anyone who has Depression to see his or her Doctor. Please don’t suffer in silence. We are so blessed today to have wonderful treatments for this illness. This is not the result of weak faith, but …as in my case, a neurological disorder.