I burst into tears on the way home from work today. But that's not unusual. I have cried at least once a week every week since July 25 because I hate my job so much. I'm depressed for several reasons, the smallest of which is the actual work itself. I'm depressed because I go into work each morning feeling nauseous. At least one person is pissed at me before I even walk in the door at 7am each morning. The hostility I face is unreal to me considering that I taught in a private school for two years where I thought I faced all the hostility one person could handle on a daily basis. Little did I know. I'm depressed because I work my ass off every day for people who will turn around and scream at me in front of their friends at graduation. I'm depressed because I just spent my entire savings account not to mention a great deal of time and energy to become qualified for my current job only to learn when I was no longer a sheltered intern that this job would make me miserable no matter what all the career inventories said before I pursued this path. I'm depressed because my husband and I need my salary and I can't quit without anything else lined up. I'm depressed because I'm qualified for nothing else and I don't have the drive to go back to school yet again because I'm so jaded after this experience. I'm depressed because I'm trapped in my personal and daily hell for another year before I can try to change schools and possibly grade levels to see if I can find a less hostile environment in which to use my training. I'm depressed because no matter how much I think about it, I cannot figure out how I got to this low.
When I got home from work today, I turned to food. Not out of hunger, but out of desparation. Desparation stemming from the same sense of entitlement that I fault the people I work with for--thinking I deserve something better than what I've got. Today, in my fit of self-pitying despair, I used food as my idol when I should have fallen to my knees and cried out to the only One who satisfies the longing inside of me for something more. He has made me different, but I continue to act the same. I wallow in self-pity and food is my companion of choice. No matter how much emptier it leaves me when I finish. Yes, God has offered me a way out, but some days I choose not to take it. Yes, I am in fact quite self-destructive and masochistic by nature. Depression is such familiar ground for me that I don't know what I would do if I suddenly felt contentment for more than a few moments.
Someone once said to me, "He won't follow you into the sin, but He'll be there when you come out." Amen. He doesn't want me to fall, but He allows me to fall because of free will. My sin shows ingratitude for all He's done for me, but He forgives me when I return to Him because of His abounding grace and mercy. I don't deserve it. I deserve suffering on top of my suffering. I deserve to be given over to my ways. But God's grace is all about what I don't deserve. There is no excuse for sin, but there is forgiveness and redemption and new hope available in spite of it.
Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits--who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's. --Psalm 103:1-5
Posted by Kim at June 6, 2006 05:34 PM