Rewriting My Own Obituary

If I was to pin point a specific day that my Depression really set in, it would probably be the day that I started telling myself that I had died.

I'm not sure I can remember the exact day that was, but from that day on I spent a lot of time in my head composing my own obituary.  It wasn't a very good obituary either.  It was actually more of a list of regrets.  And complaints.  And it went something like this:

Kristen Gibb has died.  She thought she was in love and being smart by getting married, but really all she's done is gone and ended things.  The magic is gone.  Her fun, exciting life is over.  Yup.  She married a boy from the city and now she's going to be stuck living in a city for the rest of her life.  That's as good as being dead.  And now she's stuck in a foreign country for two months.  Missing out on the summertime back in the land she loves.  And she quit the summer job of her dreams for all of this.  So now she doesn't even get to work at the best pool in the world.  Instead she has to go job hunting.  And even when she does return from this dreadful trip, she has to live in her in-laws basement.  And she no longer has her own car because she sold it.  And she doesn't have a penny to her name either after having a wedding.  Yup.  Kristen Gibb has died.  Because this situation, and these circumstances, certainly aren't living.

Haha, I'll admit I feel kinda sheepish after being so honest, but that's how my head was working, and that's what I was thinking, and that's why I started telling myself that I had died.  It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but to a young newly wed suffering with Depression, it made all the sense in the world.

When we finally returned from our honeymoon (early...), a little part of me began to think that maybe I would be able to come back to life a little bit.  Nope.  Things went from bad to worse before I was mentally resuscitated.  

Rather than bore you with the journey, I'll skip to the good part of when I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel.  When I finally realized that actually, "I'm not dead yet!!"  When I finally put the pen down, because my obituary won't be necessary for another sixty years or so.  And it won't even be written by me!

It was a bad night.  So I sought refuge with two people I trust and love: my aunt and uncle.  After a long and tearful conversation, a beautiful analogy was shared that has helped me ever since.  The Adam and Eve Analogy.  That went something like this:

Picture Adam and Eve blissfully content in the Garden of Eden.  Not a care in the world, literally living in a world of magic.  Now picture Adam and Eve being forced to leave the Garden.  Unsure of what lay ahead.  Starting to second guess their decision to eat that forbidden fruit in the first place.  Maybe even beginning to feel that life won't be quiet so magical, ever again.  Slowly filling with regret.  Anxiety.  And fear.

How did this apply to me?  Well, in a way, I had been living in a Garden of Eden of single adulthood.  I was free as a bird to come and go as I pleased.  My life was full of whims and dreams.  I saw the world as a magical place that I was in control of.  Then the time eventually came to leave this place.  And I began to feel like life ended outside the Garden.  That marriage was the end of the magic.  And that I was doomed to a dark and dreary world for the rest of my life.  Or at least that's what my Depression was telling me.

Fortunately, we know how necessary leaving the Garden of Eden was for Adam and Eve.  They lost a little, but they gained a lot.  Life didn't end after the Garden, in fact, it began!  And the best part was that they had each other to face the new adventures of life on earth.  They went forward together, and they didn't look back.  

I can't describe the impact this little analogy had on me in the dark, depressing time.  It made me realize that I had two choices.  I could go back to the Garden of Eden, literally taking a step backward in my life and progression, or I could take Jon's arm and walk away from the Garden with faith and fond memories.  I'm so glad I chose the latter.