The only real light was coming from the back of the Land Rover and from a few cell phones taking videos. There was so much dancing and jumping. I couldn’t understand a word that was being sung but I knew that they were worshipping the same God.
My team and I were in Mt. Paka with the Pokot tribe. But, I want to be very honest with you— this is the last place I wanted to be. It wasn’t because of the potential snakes or scorpions around us. It wasn’t even because of the tribal culture surrounding me or the fact that we were out in the literal bush of Africa.
There was so much to take in around me that so many people never get the chance to experience and all I could think was, “I want to go home.”
Not too long ago, our squad reached our halfway point. The evening of January 22nd was the first time I caught myself thinking, “yeah, I could leave for home right now and be okay.”
Mind you, I have taken up some sort of pride when not necessarily missing home. But on this amazingly starry night, I was doing everything I could to not break down and cry in the middle of it all. I knew I could have easily retreated to my tent but I also knew I would regret not being present later on.
But, in this moment, all I wanted was to cry. All I wanted was to know with 100% reassurance that my friends back home still cared and loved me. All I wanted to do was hold some of the girls I miss the most closely— Yesica, Telma, Marli, Juana… All I wanted was a nice home-cooked meal from my mom. I just wanted to hang out with my brother and learn more about the things going on in his head and his life.
The last thing I wanted was to be here. But the scariest part of it all was that I knew that these thoughts and these feelings were not coning from a place of discomfort or from homesickness; rather, all of this was coming from a place of depression.
I have been on anti-depressants for quite some time now. Getting enough anti-depressants for 12 months out on the field was not an easy task.
The first three months in South America seemed to play out at a normal rhythm of life. I only had a couple of meltdowns and I saw that as progress from the daily meltdowns I had in Ohio. I thought I was seeing progress.
But, almost immediately after switching to being on our new teams in December, something changed. I did not cry on my last team as much as I have on this team. I have had to deal with a lot of suppressed emotions and fears. On top of trying to process the spiritual and emotional battle within me, I was trying to also remember to take my anti-depressants…which, I kept forgetting to.
I have abruptly stopped taking anti-depressants in my life twice before and I do not recommend it. This past weekend has been one of the hardest on the Race.
I didn’t feel like myself. I lost all appetite for food but knew I needed to eat. I wanted to retreat into isolation, take a nap, and not wake just to get away from it all. I was surrounded by amazing people worshipping God in a beautiful language and watching my teammates join in the celebration, but I felt so alone. My frustration levels were high and my verbal filter was down. I felt so empty inside and had nothing left to give or offer.
I’m familiar with these symptoms. I lived with them on a daily basis just a few months ago. It slowly became a weekly thing then a once-in-a while thing. I have 6 more months left to go before heading back to good ol’ O-H-I-O. There is still so much surrendering, learning, and serving I have to grow through.
But, this is me. Still broken, still loving God.
Frieda Renée
