It’s me, Julia. I’m back.
I’ve been gone for a quite some time, lost in my own head full of monsters. Don’t we all have monsters? Or maybe it’s just me. Either way, my monsters took hold of me and drained all of the energy and life out of my soul. Sounds deep? It is deep, my feelings went deep, my thoughts went deeper. Deeper into the darkness. I couldn’t see a way out, except one way and I knew that I couldn’t let my monsters and the darkness be the death of me. If this is too personal for you to know about me, no one is making you read any further.
I, Julia Evans, am done keeping my secrets within myself and with the world. I’m done hiding my scars and masking my battle. My battle with chronic depression has been a rollercoaster ride that never ends. By rollercoaster, I don’t mean something like Space Mountain at Disney World. I mean one of those death traps at Six Flags that turns your insides out. But through all of the pain and darkness, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel and it was coming from something. More like someone.
My faith saved my life. My willingness to never give up, even when things seemed like they couldn’t get any worse. Sometimes things do get worse because things can always be worse. I was constantly being slammed by waves of hopelessness in an ocean of doubt. My monsters made me believe things would never get better, that I would always be stuck in the darkness. I was constantly apologizing for “not being Julia” and for being black all over opposed to my usual technicolor self.
After seeking treatment and medical professional help and being put on every anti-depressant you can name, I still felt lost. That is until I came back in contact with my faith.
I am alive, I am still battling my monsters. But they won’t win the war in the barricades of my head because I have a personal relationship with the Creator of the Universe. He is especially fond of me, and guess what? He’s especially fond of you, too.
Get off your computer or whatever device you’re reading this from and run or drive or skip for all I care to the closest book store. Ask for William P. Young’s The Shack and read the whole novel, cover to cover. Thank me later.