Once
I became a Christian, I thought I had victory in Jesus, my Savior. Yet
within a few months I found myself fighting the demons again. Why did I
continue to struggle with this? Why does depression continue to crouch
at my door even today?
No one ever suspected. I worked hard to have a polished smile and
on-cue laugh. But several times during my teen years I contemplated
taking my own life.
Had someone asked me why I was thinking about suicide, I would never
be able to rationally explain my reasoning. It's hard to admit that I
thought life was so hard that I wanted to end it—especially considering
how easy my life has been in comparison with people suffering all over
the world. It's also hard to describe the experience of depression. It's
like trying to describe living in a room that is pitch black.
It can be dangerous to speak generally about depression and suicide,
and I don't want to give anyone the impression that such thoughts of
self-harm are acceptable. While they are more common than we care to
admit, we should not give in to the debilitating lie that death is
better than life. This is true especially in light of our overly
psychologized culture that too readily qualifies us as victim—and not
also a perpetrator in our own mess. Continue at Matthew S. Wireman
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