When the Light Went Out Inside Me

I don’t even know why I’m writing this tonight. Maybe because for months I’ve been holding it all in. Last year I woke up one morning and it was like someone had flipped a switch inside me and turned off every bit of joy. Everything felt gray. I didn’t recognize myself. My mind became a place I was afraid of… intrusive thoughts, suicide, darkness. It came out of nowhere and it stayed, like a torment that wouldn’t leave.

I spent almost nine months in that place. Most days I stayed in my room with the curtains drawn. I’d come out only long enough to take care of the kids, then disappear back into the dark. The depression was so heavy I could feel it pressing on my chest. The anxiety felt like hands around my throat. I thought about checking myself in somewhere. I thought about quitting. I didn’t think I’d make it to the other side.

But even in that darkness, there was this small whisper of faith. Not big, not loud. Some days it was just me lying there whispering, “God, please.” Sometimes it was a verse I couldn’t stop hearing. Sometimes it was nothing but tears. I didn’t feel strong. I didn’t feel holy. But somehow that tiny thread of faith held me when I couldn’t hold myself.

And then one day, no big moment, no fireworks, I woke up and felt lighter. Like a sliver of sunlight had pushed through. I felt myself again. I realized I had walked through something I didn’t think I’d survive.

As I look back, it wasn’t just one thing that helped me climb out of that dark space. It was a mix of practical steps that became my lifeline. I started going on daily prayer walks, just talking to God and letting nature remind me of the bigger picture. I tried therapy, which was tough but necessary, as it made me confront and work through old wounds. And yes, I turned to medication as one more tool in my kit, not a magic fix, but a support that helped stabilize me.

Even now, I still have low days. I still have moments where I feel triggered, but I remind myself of how far I’ve come and the tools I now have to get out of those places a little quicker.

So if you’re reading this, know that you’re not alone. You’re not weak. You’re not a burden. You’re not broken beyond repair. If all you can do today is breathe and whisper a prayer, that’s enough. God is still there, even when you can’t feel Him. The light does come back.

Let your faith, or whatever anchors you—be your foundation. And remember that sometimes the bravest thing you can do is just take that next small step. You’ve got this.

If any part of this resonates with you, or if you’ve walked your own dark season, I’d love to hear your story. Sometimes just knowing we’re not alone makes the heaviness a little lighter.