These past few weeks have been hard for me. MY OCD and depression have flared up again after having gone on a short hiatus. I had been doing really well for about two months. I had very few obsessive thoughts and the ones I did have I was able to push through with out compulsions. But a few weeks ago, maybe a month, I started to get depressed again and the thoughts were plaguing my mind. I had all kinds of doubts about a lot of things.
Two Sundays ago I got so tired that I just couldn’t move forward. I had obligations to the praise band but I just didn’t want to go. So I went upstairs and fell asleep. Running Man sort of knew what was going on so he just got the kids ready and took them to church. He told people I wasn’t feeling well…which was true. I was feeling awful. But being home alone allowed more intrusive thoughts to ensue. When he got home I was a mess.
That night, Spunky Boy got sick so we were stuck inside the next day. It didn’t take long for Monkey Boy to catch it. We ended up stuck in the house for a whole week. Several days with no outside contact was not good for me. My thoughts and doubts continued. The boys were still not well enough to go to church the following Sunday. To be honest, I was ok with that. I didn’t want to go so I stayed home with the boys and continued to sink deeper. Another week passed. We had also missed bible study that Wednesday due to weather. (We had desperately needed to go to the study because Running Man had his own struggles which I had not known about until recently.)
This Sunday (yesterday) arrived. I was doing better but I still didn’t want to go. I definitely didn’t want to go to praise band practice because I had not even picked up my guitar in almost three weeks. But I wanted to want to go to church. So I made the decision to go. That whole morning I was moving in slow motion. I couldn’t get myself going. My husband helped get the kids ready so I could focus on me. I made my way upstairs and said to him,
“I feel like I’m walking through water.”
He looked at me, turned around so that his back was towards me, took my arms and put them around his waist, and said,
“Then hold on to me and I’ll swim for you.”
Now he kinda said it in jest but it meant so much to me. Because, in truth, he does just that. He has “carried” me through many depressive states, held me during panic attacks, and stuck with me during my out bursts. I just have to say that God made a truly perfect match for me. Because He made me, He knew who I would become. So He knew that Running Man would be the man to stick by me through all my crazy.
My husband is a true blessing.