#thisisdepression

This is my story of depression and my call to the church to deal with it better. 

I've struggled with depression for most of my life. Probably the first time I was aware of it was when I was a teenager. Along with this, I've been in and out of counseling since I was 16. I'm being honest when I say the darkest time for me was in the last three years. Since not nearly enough people talk about these things, I want to share with you my story. 

I had a hard pregnancy with Judah, not just physically - emotionally too. My hormones went crazy and I was not myself. I was angry and sad and irrational...and it didn't get better with time. When Judah was born (though it breaks my heart to say it) I didn't have those happy thoughts that most moms have. I didn't want to hold him, I didn't even want him in the room with me at the hospital, I would feed him and then send him to the nursery. When it was time to leave I failed the emotional exit questionnaire at the hospital, so they kept me a few extra days and sent in a psychiatrist.  

During Judah's first few months of life I spent a lot of time in bed. I missed Judah's first smiles and a lot of newborn joys. I sobbed when I had to go back to work and I'm sure my sermons (and other ministry) was not great during that period. I convinced myself that all of this was because I was up in the middle of the night nursing and was sleep deprived. A year later Judah started sleeping though the night, but I couldn't change my pattern. It was still so hard to function. I was missing morning play time and fun days blowing bubbles outside and couldn't make myself change. 

I can't explain the darkness of this time adequately. I could tell I was a terrible mom, a terrible wife, a terrible pastor...but I couldn't do anything about it. I was aware that I was angry (with no reason) and sad (with no joy) and irrational, but I couldn't stop functioning that way. I knew I was letting down my child and my husband. As a pastor I felt like a fraud. That's what depression does to you, it's so isolating…and you push people away even though the thing you need the most is for them to come close. I felt crazy, but I couldn't explain why… I felt angry, but couldn't control it. I cried all the time, I struggled to preach, to work, to be a present mother and wife. Brett had Judah so much during that time. I struggle even now with the guilt of that. I mourn the time I lost with my little boy. I was aware enough to know I was being crazy, but I wasn't able to do anything about it. I would cry and Judah would pat my arm and say, "it's ok, mommy." A toddler shouldn't have to comfort his mother. I felt like a failure. 

Brett, my amazing spouse, through all of this, was never angry at me. I was convinced that in my depression, I would push him too far and he'd leave. But he assured me he would never leave, he told me he loved me, that I was beautiful, he gave me way more grace than I deserved. He finally said "I love you, please get help." So, when Judah was just over a year old I started back to counseling. I hated when she told me I was being irrational. I wanted to blame someone besides myself, but I knew deep down that I was the problem. Counseling was helping but not enough, so I went to the doctor and as I cried he told me I had postpartum depression and gave me meds. After a few months, I started to get better. 

After the medicine started working I shared with the congregation about my depression, talked about God's love and grace, and asked them to forgive me for trying to hide it from them (they knew). You wouldn't believe the number of people who came up to me and said, "thank you for sharing, it's good to know I'm not alone." A lot of women told me that they were never diagnosed but were convinced this had happened to them and they wished they had been able to articulate what was going on and get help. 

Soon after that sermon (which was January 2016) I got pregnant with Isaiah (March 2016). I was feeling better than I had in years, but had to stop taking the medicine. I was terrified of sinking back into the black hole that I'd just come out of. Hormones are a crazy thing, and during Isaiah's pregnancy something in my brain changed. The shift was for the good. When Isaiah was born I felt joyful and excited and couldn't wait to hold him. I was immediately aware of the stark difference between the births of my two boys (these pictures tell that story).

(My first picture with Judah)

(First picture with Isaiah)

There are things I missed with Judah that I was not even aware of. Isaiah will do something and I'll tell Brett "I don't remember Judah ever doing that," and he'll remind me gently that Judah did, but I missed it. I missed so much of Judah's early life lying on the couch watching TV, or sleeping, or just not being able to deal. I am painfully aware of how different it is this time. I mourn how much of my little boy's life I missed because of depression. And I'm working on grace for that, because I know there was something not right in my brain. I know depression isn't a choice. But I still mourn that time.

I know this has been long already, but bear with me. I don't want to just tell you my story, I want to talk about depression and the church as well. Why do you think I tried to hide my depression from the church? I can't tell you how many times (over the years) I have been told to pray harder or to just have faith. I can't tell you the number of people who told me that taking medicine for depression is shameful as a Christian.  

I want to be clear, the stigma that the church puts on depression is sinful. It's damaging. The church must stop further harming those who are already broken. Don't tell people you can pray it away. In some cases that maybe true, but in many cases it's not and people need tangible help. Depression is consuming and there is help out there (counseling, medicine, support groups), but the church has said if you need these things you don't have enough faith. And that's a lie...it's bullcrap! Church, we are losing people…and not just from church attendance, but from life itself, and it's because of the stigma we place on depression. Because depression, while in and of itself a terrible thing to deal with, can lead to self harm and suicide. And suicide is no asker of faith, it doesn't discriminate. It takes good, Godly people, who are depressed and don't get help. It takes people who are told to pray harder. It takes people who have been told depression is sinful and they are bad Christians.  

What are we doing church? Damning people when they need us the most? Shaming people for asking for help? Aren't we supposed to be a hospital for the sick and a refuge for the weary? Church, we are failing by expecting people to be able to deal with depression on their own. 

If you're still with me, thank you. 

If you're dealing with depression I want you to know you are not alone. You are not a failure. Getting help (counseling, medicine, etc.) is not a sin and does not demonstrate a lack of faith, in fact pray-it-away is dangerous theology. I want you to know that it's ok (and even necessary) to get help. I want you to know that if you have no one else to talk to, you can talk to me. I want you to know that you are valuable and loved. You know that phrase "trust God but lock your car"? This is kind of the same thing. Pray and rely on God for certain, but get the help you need. Whether it's medicine, a counselor, or something else. You are too important not to. 

And if you don't deal with depression, I guarantee that you have friends who do. Please don't let it go. Please don't tell them to get over it. Ask if they need help, don't ignore warning signs. I told a friend of mine recently, I'd rather be annoying and ask, then not ask and regret it. And if you don't know what depression is like, go on twitter and check out #thisisdepression. You'll get a stark and honest idea of what we deal with.