So, here it goes again. Another topic the Lord has really been placing on my heart. A lot! I mean like multiple times a day. Its a very controversial topic in the Christian circle. One that many Christians are suffering with in silence. Depression. Anxiety. Panic Attacks. Mental illness.
After my husband died I was left with emotions and feelings I had never ever experienced before. It hurt to do anything. I mean even sitting up in bed reading a book with my sons hurt. My body ached. My soul cringed. Every part of me was in pain. I would sleep the entire day while my sons went to school. I would't eat. Not because I wasn't hungry, but because it hurt. It hurt to think of eating another meal without my husband. It pained me. I would grow nauseous and all of my favorite foods, repulsed me. I would throw on whatever I could find and pick my sons up from school. We would come home and I would use whatever little energy I had left to take care of their needs until bedtime. It exhausted me. One would think that I would have energy since I slept all day, but I didn't. As soon as they fell asleep, I cried. I sobbed. I was broken and afraid. I felt alone and isolated. Every verse I read drove a deeper knife of betrayal I felt from God. Every song that used to encourage me and give me hope fueled my rage. I only let a very select group of people in my life to know how I was suffering. I felt guilty. I beat myself up for my doubt, anger, and lack of faith. I even questioned if I believed that God was good. I was ashamed of these thoughts and feelings which isolated me even more.
I didn't realize it was depression until months later when I had gained an alarming amount of weight, looked and felt awful and the doctor told me my blood-work was concerning. She then asked if anything had changed in my life recently to cause such a change. I broke. I could barely even speak through the hot tears that ran down my face. I finally whispered that my husband had died unexpectedly and how scared I felt. How alone. That I sleep for hours and hours during the day and then am restless at night. It was then she told me I was depressed and dealing with anxiety. She wanted to prescribe me something to take the edge off. To help me with the trauma I just walked through. I held the script in my hands and walked to my car. I sat there and sobbed. Why? Why me? Why us? What now? I went home and researched all of the side-effects of the medication and those scared me so much more than the hope of feeling "normal". I decided I would wait and pray about what I should do. I didn't fill the script. Ever. But if I did, it would have been ok, even if some of the church, friends, family or even strangers didn't agree. It was in that place that I began to see something so clearly. There is a stigmatism attached to medication especially for mental illness. For many, it is as if other brothers and sisters in Christ have attached a label to you as "faithless."
But, I challenged some with this thought. If a diabetic takes insulin to survive, are they faithless? No. They understand that they need the medication to live. They can pray and pray and beg and beg God to heal them, but, sometimes, the healing is in the form of the medication that has been provided. Someone with cancer knows that they will continue praying for a healing but also use the means and medications readily available to them in efforts to kill as much of the cancer that they can. Extremist will say that anyone who takes medication for any ailment is faithless. They do not believe that God can heal them and therefore they take the medication which in turn proves their distrust of a Mighty God who heals. Statements and groups like these boil my blood.
My mother, who is with our Lord and Savior, suffered tremendously from depression and bi-polar disorder. My Dad, who also is in heaven, was a pastor. We lived most of our childhood in church and we were taught the Bible and about all of God's promises at a very young age. My mom needed medication to stabilize the chemical imbalances that were going on within her body that made her act like someone she didn't even recognize when she looked in the mirror. However, she would pray and cry and beg God to heal her and stop taking her meds. When that happened, we all suffered. But she suffered the most. It would take weeks and sometimes months for her to regain normalcy after receiving treatment again. Our life was wonderful when she took her medication. It was scary and unstable when she stopped. However, my Mom knew God was a God of miracles and healing, and He gave her the doctors to help her heal; through medication.
Now, before you go on judging me and saying I am pushing medicating for everything, please know, I am not. I am a firm believer that our diet and nutrition play a huge role in our health. I also believe that one should try everything naturally first before going to medication if possible. I do know there is an epidemic of prescription drug abuse and addiction. That blog is for another time.
I am very relieved to know that those closest to me in my darkest of times did not pass judgement on me when confessing my struggle with depression. Instead, they prayed with me and for me. They checked on me multiple times a week. They didn't give up on me. And one of the best reliefs was they even told me that if I needed medication to help me, that it was o.k. We all need these friends in our life. Just because I didn't choose medication, doesn't mean I am super-human. I still struggle with depression and anxiety, but not as much as before. There are still sleepless nights where fear grips me, but I am at a place now where I can listen to worship and it calms me instead of firing me up.
Some mornings I wake up with a heavy weight on my chest and I know its going to be a battle to get up and smile. But, I get up and pray for supernatural strength to overcome it. I may nap that day or even cry all day, but tomorrow is a new day and His mercy is new every morning. Amen?
So this is me. My open, vulnerable life for all to read. I don't write this for me. I am writing this today because God has pressed me to, not because I want to. Are you struggling with depression, anxiety, fear, isolation, etc. and haven't told anyone out of fear of rejection or guilt? If so, I pray that these words compel you to take the first step and talk to someone you trust. I pray that today you break that chain of entrapment. I pray you find freedom in telling another how you are hurting and that the Lord would use them to walk alongside of you in the journey of healing.
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