Several years ago I went through a long period of deep depression. I would wake up in the morning with an almost uncontrollable desire to run away and hide. Some mornings I literally hid under the covers, protesting the fact that I was alive.

This was quite a shock to my husband as well as to me. I had always been the one who jumped out of bed, delighted by the first ray of sunshine and the activities planned for the day. I had always been happy to be alive even when there were trying problems to be solved. I think that was what puzzled us the most about my condition. I had a challenging job that I loved and a close, caring family that supported my activities. I had no reason to be so depressed.

Weekdays, when I was able to pull myself out of bed and get ready for work, were easier than the weekends. During the drive to school, I was occupied with plans for the day. When I got to school and began teaching my classes and organizing performances (I was a theater arts teacher), the feelings of depression seemed to subside. On the weekends, however, the depression seemed endless. I had no desire to do anything on Saturdays, and Sundays were even worse.

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

Can I get to the church on time?
April 3, 2000

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.