(Previously Published on Mrs Words Blog)

My son made this masquerade masque at school recently. I think he did a great job making it and apart from being a little broken & worn, I think it’s pretty cool. When he brought it home this week, it got me to thinking…

Masquerade: (noun) a false show or pretence; (verb) pretend to be someone one is not.

So, I’m gonna jump right in here and ask, are you wearing a masque? what kind of mask are you wearing? why are you wearing a masque?

I’ve been through a bit in my short life (as we all have) and in journeying through my struggle with depression, I put on a mask. Not a physical one, but a mental, emotional one. A front, so that no one knew what was really going on inside. To protect myself, to hide my suffering, my shame, my pain. I hid behind a facade that I created to make it look like I had it all together, that life was good and I was fine. But, I wasn’t… I was tormented inside. Endless battles going on inside my mind. Thoughts of inadequacy, imperfection, failure, shame and pain. Physical illness captured my body and no one even knew what I was going through. I kept it all hidden behind my mask.

I managed to keep up my facade for quite a few years before it all came crashing down. When I couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed; when I didn’t have the motivation to look after my children or feed my family; when I couldn’t stop the tears from tumbling out of my eyes; when my husband looked at me with his face ashen, with tears in his eyes, full of concern for me, telling me he didn’t want me to give up and that I had to get better; when I couldn’t physically move my body and my brain just about stopped functioning, I decided that enough was enough and it was about time to admit that I had a problem (or numerous problems) and that it was time to get some help. I couldn’t hide behind my mask any longer.

The first (& hardest) step for me was admitting that there was something wrong. When I went to talk to a leader in the Church and he quietly suggested the word “depression” I nearly jumped down his throat and rushed to vehemently deny it. He was, however, spot on the money, right on point and when I finally (a few weeks later) accepted that perhaps his suggestion had some merit, I was able to start the process of working my way to healing.

It was, to say the least, an incredibly long and difficult journey. I not only had emotional and mental issues to deal with, I had physical healing to work through as well. When I first went to see a counsellor, the most poignant question I got asked was “who are you? who are you really?”  Oh, that’s easy, I said, I’m a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, a leader, an employee and a volunteer. “Stop!” the counsellor said. “I don’t want your resume, I want you to tell me, without the job description and all the titles (the facade, the mask you wear), who are you? what makes you, you?”

Wow! I was absolutely stumped! I didn’t know how to answer that. I just looked blankly at the counsellor and burst into sobbing tears. I wore all the hats and performed all the tasks that were expected and required of me, but who was I? what made me, me? I had no idea. I was too busy and too comfortable hiding behind my mask, I lost sight of me, the real me, who I really was. I was living a masquerade. So, I set out to discover me – to “find myself” – and the first place I started to look was right at the beginning, the source, the living, breathing Word of God!

I discovered that I didn’t need to wear a mask anymore, I deserved to wear a crown. I am a child of God, a daughter of the King of Kings, and that makes me a Princess. I am God’s workmanship, created in His image. I am loved, blessed and I am important. My counsellor made me stand in front of a mirror and tell myself these truths until I started to believe them. So, I did! and in amongst the physical healing (seeing specialists and physical therapists), my heart, mind, and soul were slowly healing as well. It took me almost 3 years from that first brutal moment of accepting that I was suffering depression to get to the point where I could say that I had journeyed through the turmoil and I had overcome – through to the other side. Healed, whole and mask-free!

Every day now, I choose to be real! To vulnerably expose myself, truthfully and in all my stunning (and not so stunning) glory as an imperfect human living my life courageously (warts & all) in vibrant colour. No masque (or mask) here. No masquerade. Only truth, fact and real-ness. Black & White and all the colours in between. What about you? Are you still wearing your masque?