![](\"images\/20081007-1.jpg\")
<\/p>\nSeasonal affective disorder. SAD. The acronym is fitting. SAD happens when light dwindles as winter approaches, causing some people to slump into a depression.<\/p>\n
I’ve fought subclinical levels of SAD for a good portion of my life. I remember how awful it was the year I took my PSAT for real. When I got my scores, I was sure SAD had lost me the National Merit Scholarship. In the throes of the worst year yet, my score had dropped eleven points from the previous year. I remember my senior year of high school, suggesting to my roommates and housemom that I should just lay on the floor and die. They were worried–they should have been, and they shouldn’t. I didn’t actually want to die. Not enough to be suicidal. I just didn’t know if I could go on living. I remember college years, when I didn’t emerge from my room for weeks on end except to go to the bathroom. I didn’t want to do anything, just sleep.<\/p>\n
Last year, I was officially diagnosed and began medication to treat the depression. I had actually been dealing better than normal. I still went to classes. I still maintained what looked like relationships. I maintained such a good facade that no one even realized that I was depressed. It took an awful, awful day to convince me that I needed treatment.<\/p>\n
Treatment began and things improved almost immediately. I could cope. I didn’t feel disconnected. I was living life instead of just watching it pass by. I didn’t like taking medication for it, but the benefits were just too great.<\/p>\n
Spring came and I started to discontinue the antidepressant–and suddenly another health problem flared up beyond control. It seems the medication had been doing more than one thing–it wasn’t just treating the SAD, it was controlling my blood volume too. Without it, I was graying out with alarming regularity–several times an hour. My PA and I decided to continue with the medication over the summer.<\/p>\n
But now, with winter approaching again, I’m scared. I’m scared for it to start all over. What if the meds don’t handle it this time? I’m starting to gray out again more frequently. The lack of oxygen to my brain producing the grayouts is only a metaphor for what depression does to my soul. The gray begins, I brace myself to keep from falling. Dots swim before my eyes and I see nothing. Nothing but gray. I feel nothing but the queer lack of thought, the inability to reason. Terror. Entrapment. I can’t do anything about it. I can’t fight it. I can only brace myself for it and hope I can pick up the pieces once it’s over.<\/p>\n
I’m scared, but by God’s grace I’m hanging on to a promise.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This is Isaiah 60. Check out verse 20: “Your sun shall no longer go down, nor shall your moon withdraw itself; for the Lord will be your everlasting light, and the days of your mourning shall be ended.”<\/p>\n
When I read this a couple of months ago, it jumped out to me as a promise for SAD. My sun won’t go down–no winter–God is my light and he doesn’t hide. The days of my mourning will end.<\/p>\n
Hope. That’s what this verse is. SAD won’t last forever, because God is my light and He’s going to be my light forever. He doesn’t change with the seasons.<\/p>\n
I was sobbing on my bed last night, scared and helpless, when God reminded me of this Scripture. It took me what seemed like forever to find it. I was frantic, hanging on to the very last string of hope. When I found it, it was a floatie for my drowning soul to cling to.<\/p>\n
I read the whole chapter. It calmed me a bit. Then I wrote it out, the whole chapter. “Arise, shine….darkness shall cover the earth…but the Lord will arise over you…then you shall see and become radiant and your heart shall swell with joy…”<\/p>\n
It’s a promise for me. A promise for SAD. A promise that, really, there is hope. I am not bound for the abyss. I am bound for heaven, a place of unceasing joy, in the presence of my ever-bright Sun.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Seasonal affective disorder. SAD. The acronym is fitting. SAD happens when light dwindles as winter approaches, causing some people to slump into a depression. I’ve fought subclinical levels of SAD for a good portion of my life. I remember how awful it was the year I took my PSAT for real. When I got my … Read more SAD Promise<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0},"categories":[5,11],"tags":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/435"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=435"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/435\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=435"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=435"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/bekahcubed.menterz.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=435"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}