I want to tell you a bit about my journey with depression.
- Hello depression. Sucks to meet you
- Maybe I’m better?
- And… here we go again
It is scary to do this. Well, every blog post is scary for me. My experience in life tells me that vulnerability and telling your story will get you crucified. One of my life goals is to be vulnerable in a healthy way, and I really want to tell my story in a way that honors the stories of others.
I’ll just keep trying, one day at a time, and sometimes I will screw up, and sometimes I won’t, and I am going to daily choose to accept the grace and love and mercy that is offered to me as a gift, in my humanity.
- Hello depression. Sucks to meet you
I’ve described her as a medusa.
Some people have had depression lurking about through most of their life.
Some meet it post partum.
Some people find that depression comes like a slow, creeping flood.
My depression came like a 20 foot tsunami.
I had been working off and on with a therapist for 2 years already, while I was living in China. We were working on a lot of different things, and I write more about that here.
Never had depression been on our radar, actually.
But then, there was a series of months, when my heart’s blinders came off, so to speak. The lens through which I had been looking at my world wasn’t clear any longer. The signs of trouble that I had been watching, recording, and trying to dismiss, could no longer be explained away.
I couldn’t leave China, to return to the USA for “help”, because, if I did, I would have to give up the adoption of my son, and that wasn’t an option for me.
The words “severe depression” were used over Skype, by a professional. For legal reasons, I couldn’t be diagnosed across state and national lines, via the internet, so we didn’t use the word DIAGNOSED at this time. But if I had been in the USA, I would have been diagnosed at that time.
This came in the midst of a depressive episode that had me virtually non-functional. I would get out of bed in the morning, get my kids fed, put a tv show on for them in my room, and climb back in bed. I would lay there, in a fetal position, crying, until they needed something, a diaper, food, whatever. I couldn’t answer emails. I couldn’t cook food. My body had moved into survival mode. I did JUST enough to keep us alive and keep my kids healthy, and no more. I wanted to die, but I loved my kids too much to leave them. In a way, they saved my life. Now I know this is a pretty common sentiment of parents with depression.
In China, SSRI’s like Zoloft (medication for depression) are available over the counter. I didn’t know where to get them, or how to ask for them. My therapist and doctor in the USA told me I needed to start medication ASAP, but it was really hard to accept that. It was also really hard to tell the Christians I knew that I needed help like this.
The religious culture in which I had been raised looked down on medication as ungodly and depression as something weaklings, with no faith in God, make up. This set a foundation of fear and anxiety that would take me a long time to unravel.
The expat Christian culture we were involved with never spoke of depression, unless it was a sort of “claiming” of happiness and feeling good. I had lived there for 7 years, and didn’t know of ANYONE who was on antidepressants, or admitted to experiencing depression. When I finally worked up the courage to call my missions director and tell her about it, she quickly said “if you had diabetes, and needed insulin, I would tell you to get it. You are sick, and you need medicine. TAKE THE MEDICINE!!!” I am forever grateful to her.
I asked a local friend to go get the medication for me, and she did. I remember her standing at my door, with the bag in her hand, and feeling like sobbing. I was screaming in my head.
“I am SICK, I want to be OK. I want to LIVE. DAMN IT, I WANT TO LIVE”.
Damn. It is really hard to write this.
The first pill on my tongue felt like a scream into a void, and like a tiny taste of oxygen. It felt like it might be hope.
There were a lot of people telling me it was bad to take this medication. Telling me I was sinning. Their voices piled on top of each other, and told me that I was weak and bad and small and unworthy of love or kindness, since I needed this medication. It hurt more deeply than I even know how to express.
I was in daily communication with 2 friends in America on a 3-way conversation app. They were one of my lifelines. I remember talking about the medication, describing the night sweats, as my body adjusted. I talked about feeling tired, and about the hope I was afraid to feel. About 3 weeks after I started taking Zoloft, something happened with the kids, that a month earlier, would have left me seething with anger. This day, I was level headed and able to deal with it. That’s when I knew the medication was starting to work.
At the same time, I was meeting weekly with 2 precious women to talk and pray together. We were all 3 pretty different, and a lot alike. They were the first people in my daily life to whom I disclosed my depression. At the time, they may not have understood fully what I was describing, but they showed up with love and compassion at a time when I needed that more than anything else.
Early on in this adventure, I knew I wasn’t going to do this secretly. I told everyone who wanted to talk about it what was going on in my life. I said that I was using medication for depression. I shared that I was having weekly sessions with my therapist. I spoke the words “I am not ok”. And guess what? A lot of other women weren’t, either. I found out that faith workers all over the world were going through stuff like me. I found out that most of us were on medication for depression and anxiety. It broke my heart for my sisters.
From my journal in July 2014
When you are a Christ follower, in the today’s western world, the dark places in your mind can be something
Taboo.
The elephant in the room
The-place-of-which-we-shall-not-speak
In those dark places…
The only things that gets you out of bed is your children’s needs, and love for them that drives you to movement.
Even the smallest mishap feels like a meteor just landed on your house.
Finding that you are 3 dollars short at the grocery story feels like the end of the world. Like, you ACTUALLY WON’T make it through this.
I look at the people around me in line at McDonalds
and the only words I can access are “f*** you”
- Maybe I’m better?
If you don’t know me in real life, you wouldn’t know that I’m hecka granola natural. As in, the first time I ever took an over the counter painkiller, I was 18. I watched most of my 7 siblings be born at home, and I can make a mean garlic oil for earaches.
I have used supplement, homeopathy, and essential oils as my first defense for all manner of health related whatnots my whole life. I was tested for thyroid everything, did work on my adrenals, and on and on and on before I started using allopathic medication for depression. During the time I was on medication, I was also in the care of a naturopathic doctor, and using a wide variety of natural products to keep me going.
The year after we moved back from China, I was able to wean off anti-depressants. It had become very clear that the depression I dealt with was situational, a result of years of toxicity in my marriage and home.
The most frustrating side effect for me while on medication was weight gain. While using Zoloft, I gained about 40 lbs, and weighed more than I had even weighed pregnant! After I weaned off them, I was using supplements and eating really well, and was able to lose about 20 pounds.
During that year, my husband and I were doing counseling 1- 2 times a week with a local professional. It was amazing to have an in-person relationship with a therapist, and made me even more grateful for the work my counselor had done with me on skype for so long. I had a lot of hope during that time that we could find solutions to the issues that were a breeding ground for depression, and I truly enjoyed not being dependent on medication for that year.
- And… here we go again
In late 2016, it became clear that my situation was not going to change. The toxic things that were happening in my home and marriage were not going to stop, and it was time for me to make the choices to change my life. This time, I recognized the signs of depression a lot earlier than I did the first time around. The anger, the fear, the sleepless nights. I was able to ask for help, and get it. I also filed for divorce. Once again, I chose to be open about what I was experiencing, and this time, the loudest voices against me came from my own family.
“demonic influence”
“poisonous chemicals”
“proof you are weak”
“lying about your experience”
“denying God’s sovereignty”
“rebellion”
Many more phrases and accusations were leveled against me by people I had trusted and loved. It hurt more than anything I had been through in my life, but not as much as staying in the place of darkness and fear where I had lived for so long.
From my journal Aug 2016
I can’t find you, right now, in this situation
in my agony
in my heartbreak
in my loss
I know you are here, I know you are with me, but I can’t feel you. I can’t touch you. I can’t see you. And my heart screams
“did you leave me?”
“am I alone”
This week I am letting go of the things and the one I love. I am letting go of my hopes and dreams. My heart is shattered, and I can’t find you.
At this point, I am on a perfect-for-me blend of anti-depressants, anti-anxiety medication. I also use L-Theanine, Vitamin supplements, and, when I’m on top of things, whole food diet to be healthy. I continue to have weekly session with my therapist, and I check in with lots of people who love me and know me well. I stay open about where I am emotionally, and I am daily learning to let myself feel the things I feel, and heal. My medical team has a plan that will lead to me weaning off the medications eventually. I am excited about that, for a lot of reasons, but I also know some people need to stay on them a lot longer, or maybe for many many years. It just depends on the kind of depression you experience, and what your life is like.
It is hard for me to use god-words, religion words, Bible words, at this point in my healing, because those are the words that have been used to slice through my heart and personhood with great authority and conviction. The words of their “god” have been used to manipulate and control me, and I have no energy for that nonsense any more.
I am deeply aware of those who have experienced spiritual abuse like me, and that friends I have can’t use god words either. I worry that if I use god words, I’ll trigger you, or scare you, or make you think I don’t love you, that I don’t want to be with you.
At the same time, God is so real and present to me, I have to try to find the words to express…
The DIVINE one, who knows and breaths life, hope, light, and love, has been in and around, over and above me my whole life. The presence of GOD throughout every phase of my depression has been undeniable. The words of Peter in the gospel of John stop me in my tracks on a daily basis “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God”.
From my journal August 2016
I am so tired. Sad. Tired of being sad.
I need joy-light to come into my head and my life.
Every word they speak is a land mine; their mouths breath out poison gas,
their throats are gaping graves.
Their tongues slick as mudslides, let their so-called wisdom wreck them.
But you will welcome me with open arms when I run for cover to you.
Ps 5
RESOURCES
If you think you might be depressed check out this quiz. AND TALK TO YOUR DOCTOR!
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