A grateful heart

Depression is a mental illness.
I know that's true, but I don't like it.
I'm not talking about "down in the dumps" or "feeling blue" kind of stuff.
I'm talking about real depression that almost makes life impossible.
I have had a problem with depression for many years.  In fact as I look back to my childhood, I think I was experiencing it even then but of course so many years ago no one thought much about depression.  But I remember having bouts of crying, of feeling very sad, without any special reason for it.

My brother likes to tease me about the time I ran away.  I was about 6 or 7 years old; we were living on the farm, and I packed some clothes in a paper sack and started walking down the driveway.  The last time he teased me about it, I told him the real story.  I've never forgotten it.  I felt unloved in my family, like it was my Mom and Dad and Brother on the inside, and I was on the outside looking in.  So I ran away, just hoping against hope that someone would call me back - "come back, we love you" - but it never happened.  I remember very clearly the feeling of resignation that came over me as I turned around and came home realizing that I didn't really matter.  That feeling of not belonging in my family never left me. 

One summer as a teenager, I went to church camp and as I walking along the path one day, the camp director and his wife stopped me and asked me how I was doing.  They showed genuine concern, and I can still picture them.  I couldn't say anything, and I just started weeping.  I wept and wept - and I couldn't say anything.  I can't imagine what they thought, and I never could explain myself to them.

Then through the years there were so many more rejections, betrayals, decisions that turned out badly.  So many times I was blamed for things that were not my fault and yet I had to carry the blame and the guilt. 
Life was hard.
There wasn't much joy.
Ever.
The problem with depression at this age is that it takes my mind back to all those experiences; I think the term is "rumination" - it's like turning every event over in mind to see why it happened the way it did and what I should have done or not done and why on earth did it happen, etc., etc., etc.  And then it feels so unfair.  Why did God bless others and not bless me?  Was I so much worse than everybody else?  I knew that from the time I was young, it was always my intention to serve the Lord - and yet life was so awful. And so at this age, with this rumination, there are so many regrets, so many "what ifs", so many "whys". 
By now you're wondering why the title of this post is "A grateful heart". 
It's because I have recently learned to be grateful for everything.  But oh my goodness -- it's not easy.  Most of all I am grateful to God for bringing me through very tough situations.  For bringing me to a place in life where I am loved and valued.  For providing a loving group of supportive friends who love me dearly. 
And now - and I hope I am able to continue this - when depressive thoughts knock on the door of my mind, I start thanking God for all His blessings, naming them one by one.  And the depression is turned away.