It seems like an unspoken understanding that we
should avoid this topic. Not sure why. I’ve never been told not to address it
or share my story involving it, but I’ve assumed people don’t want to hear
about it. Perhaps because it’s
controversial. But the longer I serve and minister the more I find out that
most everything is controversial in today’s world.
I guess it’s also awkward. For example… how do you “non-awkwardly”
but honestly answer the question when someone asks how you’re doing:
Well I started going to counseling because I’m overwhelmed with my life…
so that’s new.
Or maybe…
Well I started taking anti-depressants because I’ve been diagnosed with
depression… so that’s new.
Or maybe…
My doctor diagnosed me with SAD- Seasonal Affective Disorder- which
causes extreme exhaustion and depression-like symptoms… so that’s new.
Depression isn’t easy. Depression isn’t fun.
Depression isn’t talked about. I know good people… good Christian people who have suffered from and are suffering through
depression, but many feel they that must do so with silence and with solitude.
For me, however, depression isn’t a new term.
Someone close to me in junior high and high school suffered from “something”.
Her parents tried everything: praying with her every night, taking her to
spiritual counseling, finding an exercise plan, but nothing seemed to be able
to snap her out. Finally, they took her to a doctor. He diagnosed Hannah with
having something called depression- the medical kind. Not something derived
from a spiritual issue like an unconfessed sin, but the kind that is caused by
something within your brain- the kind that is caused by your brain’s
interaction or lack thereof with certain chemicals.
I’m not a doctor, so I’m not going to attempt a
more specific explanation. If you want one, talk to your own doctor.
Regardless, Hannah told me what her doctor told her
those many years ago, and it’s something that neither she nor I have ever
forgotten.
He said, “Hannah, going on medication for
depression isn’t something to be embarrassed about or question. Just as if you
would take medicine for pneumonia to improve your condition, you can take
medicine for this type of depression to improve your condition. The medicine won’t change who you are, it
will allow you to become who you were meant to be.”
Years later, I studied psychology in college. One
of my professors did a series on psychology and spirituality. His point was
that all truth is God’s truth, and although we wouldn’t go to our pastors to
diagnose our bronchitis or staph infection, so often we expect our pastors to diagnose
mental illnesses. I thought back to what Hannah’s doctor had said. Her depression
was a physical condition that happened to be a mental one as well. But therein
is the controversy. How do you know when you need to see a counselor? How do
you know when you need to talk to a pastor? How do you know when you need to
see a doctor? What about the people trying to avoid admitting to their
spiritual sin (that is causing depression) and so they start taking medicine to
keep their lifestyle of sinful choices?
I don’t know all the answers. I can tell you that
most of us aren’t equipped to make those judgment calls about other people. Or
maybe even ourselves. Perhaps the simplest advice I've heard, but also the best, is to start with the Lord and work out from there.
My journey for help began when I finally admitted
to myself that I was different. Easy things in life had become overwhelming.
Comments that I would have previously laughed off now caused me great tears and
heartache. More tears came out of my ducts than I knew existed. I was
exhausted. All. Day. Long. No matter how much sleep I got.
I convinced myself it was just stress. I’ve never
handled stress well. I told myself I was the only one noticing anything. And I
was just paranoid. Overreacting. Exaggerating.
Then one day I finally broke down and talked to my
mom about how overwhelmed I was. She said gently “Holly, this isn’t you. You
used to be able to cope. I think it’s time you talked to someone.” My fiancé (yes, this was all during my
engagement) very tenderly agreed when I told him our conversation later that
night.
So I made an appointment with a Christian counselor
and went the next week. And have thanked the Lord for that day so many times.
This counselor eased my fears and paranoia. She confirmed that my reaction and
lack of coping ability wasn’t due to some weakness of my personality. She asked
my questions about my life and my spiritual walk. She gently gathered if there might be any sin I was engaging in but refusing to confess.
After filling out extensive background info and talking
for over an hour, she directed me towards a doctor. She explained to me that on
the basis of my answers regarding my faith, my life, and loved ones, it sounded
like I was battling a medical form of depression often triggered by major life
changes, of which I had quite a few in a short period of time.
For the first time, hope burgeoned inside me about
my situation. I wasn’t crazy. I really was going through a hard time. It won’t be forever.
But I then began to worry about her suggestion. On
the one hand, I clung to the possibility
that there could be a way to help me cope. But on the other hand- I’m
engaged. Is going on
anti-depressants going to mess up my whole world? What will my fiancé think?
That night we talked. And he was completely on
board with whatever I wanted to do or felt comfortable with. He just wanted me to feel like myself again. I
was so thankful and relieved, but still needed to talk to one more person.
I called my friend Hannah. I knew she would give it
to me straight. She did. “Holly, you
keep telling yourself that you can work through this on your own. That when the
stress of wedding-planning is over, you’ll bounce back. Holly, life will always
be stressful. Being a newlywed is awesome, but stressful. Being in ministry is
stressful. Life. Is. Stressful. Try the medicine- if it does work, you’ll be in a
much better place on your wedding day. And
don’t you want that?”
Her words were the final blow. So I went to the
doctor who agreed with the counselor. I started taking an anti-depressant.
And I
became myself again. I began to cope. To be able to focus for long-periods of time. To
find laughter in little things. To not be overwhelmed by life for most of my
day.
·
Am I saying that every person who has depression-like symptoms should be
on medicine? No.
·
Am I saying that every person who is depressed has a medical condition?
No.
·
Am I saying that we as Christians need to stop hiding this issue in our
worlds? Yes.
· Am I saying that as a Christian, I benefited from counseling and from
medicine, both separately and simultaneously? Yes.
·
Am I saying that I believe some can suffer from depression caused
through spiritual issues and some through physical issues? Yes.
So why do I tell you this story?
Why keep quiet for
so long and then break the silence now?
Because over the past few months, I have met,
talked to, and cried with so many of you. So many who are fighting a battle bigger
than themselves. And you feel like you must fight it alone. And have
been doing so for months. Weeks. Years.
And many of you, like me, just keep telling
yourself, I’ll get through this. I just got to get through the next 3 months
and then life will slow down. Besides, if my family finds out, they’ll think
I’m being ridiculous. If my friends find
out, they’ll think I’m a psycho. I could never go to a “shrink”- my life isn’t
that bad.
Sisters, hear me. If that is you- if you read my
story and your heart resonated with my words, reach out for help. Let this
year, this month, begin differently.
· It might be that confessing your sin to God and to a mentor is what’s necessary
for you to connect with God and find joy again.
·
It might be that telling your mom will be enough to lift the weight.
·
It might be that talking to a counselor for a few weeks will be enough
to change the direction of 2015 from dismal to joyous.
·
It might be that talking to a doctor will give you the chance to become
yourself again.
You may not know which path will lead you to your
answer-but reach out anyways. This battle is not meant to be fought alone.
Don’t you want that hope? That peace? That relief?
Talk to someone. Keep talking until you find
answers. I did. And found hope.
You can too.
In Him,
Holly
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