God and Depression

I was diagnosed with depression in eighth grade, at a time in history when depression was considered a reaction to circumstances and not a biological condition. Children didn’t get depressed, according to contemporary medical beliefs. My mom admittedly didn’t understand how a child in a loving home, with no traumas could be depressed, but she trusted the doctor enough to accept the diagnosis and not dismiss it, or me. There were no medications for pediatric depression so my treatment was to stop eating sugar, get regular exercise, and counseling. It was rough for all of us.

I thought demons were possessing me during those lapses into darkness. I had been taught that suicide was a ‘go straight to hell’ pass, so I stayed alive out of sheer, white-knuckled defiance to Satan. I didn’t understand how God could make us ‘in His image’, yet make me so defective. I had been taught that God doesn’t make mistakes, so this must be His plan for me and I didn’t pursue medication as the medical field advanced. I didn’t want to go against God’s Will. It wasn’t until I was out of college with a master’s degree that I shared this with my mom and she cried for my many wasted years of suffering. She pointed out that Jesus came to heal the sick, and that God does not want us to suffer. She encouraged me to get help and thus began the decades-long, bumpy journey through the mental health medical field.

I’d been to countless counselors and tried many medications before I found something that would stabilize my depression episodes. I still had them, but finally learned what ‘normal’ or ‘baseline’ was, so I could tell when I was falling away from that. I learned what were triggers for a depressive episode and recognized behaviors that indicated I was heading for one. I still remember the TV ad for a depression medication that said ‘depression is more than just feeling blue….’, and they listed things I had no idea were my symptoms: foggy head, lack of motivation, lack of pleasure, body aches, and fatigue. I learned more from that one ad than I had from years of medical interventions.

Meanwhile, I met and married a wonderful man who loved me despite my roller-coaster emotions and occasional dips into suicidal depression. I was sometimes not able to fully parent our children because of fatigue, lack of joy, or overwhelming mental darkness. I had come to understand that those depressive thoughts were not demons, they were emotional hallucinations and I had to try to ignore them, although they seemed so real. My depression hurt my husband and my children and continued to frighten and confound my mom, who now lived 1000 miles away and couldn’t hold me when I was hurting. Her reassurance had to come through phone calls, and she never knew if I would be calling to say I wanted to kill myself, or if I was okay. I am still hurt knowing all the fear and sorrow I have caused these people who are closest to my heart.

Of course, throughout this whole time, many people were praying for me and I had been asking God to cure me. He cured physical leprosy, why wouldn’t he cure my emotional leprosy? One day in adoration I begged him to take this from me and He told me ‘No’. Just like that. No explanation, no words of comfort, just ‘no’. So I decided that this was my cross to bear, and I would bear it bravely. God shines most brightly in the darkness, so I looked at how I could use this cross for good. I discovered that being open and honest with people about my depression made them feel comfortable and safe being open about theirs. I could be an example to a biased and judgemental world that people with depression could be active, productive, and giving members of society, and should not be shunned or derided because of their condition. I learned not to be ashamed of my diagnosis, but to accept that cross and use it to lighten others’ crosses or strengthen them as they carried it.

A few weeks ago in mass, I heard the reading of 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 and understood it all. I understood the demons of darkness, the ‘No’, and the decision to carry my cross boldly. I understood that God doesn’t make mistakes and that he created me as I am, perfectly for His plan. He spoke my life struggle to me in the words of Paul:

“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

2 Corinthians 12:7-10