No Demons

When I die and my mental health issues inevitably come up, please never allow someone to say, "She struggled with her demons." 

Anxiety, depression, and PTSD are *not* demons. 

These are medical issues. I am not struggling with demons. 

I am struggling with my health and with my mental health. 

Even as a religious person, I refuse to acknowledge any such nonsense in my life. I would hate for people to further apply ugly phrases to me after I die. I have had enough of that while I yet live. Ugh. 

Try, if you loved me, not to reduce my life to those aspects with which I struggled. Better to remember other things that made me who I am.

Living in the Past

    I heard somewhere recently that people who still talk about events that happened to them years ago are either stuck in the past or are doing so for attention. I find that to be a narrow-minded and ultimately negative assessment.

    Take me, for example. I am one such person. I make a point of talking about experiences that my husband and I went through long ago - although not for nefarious or ego-driven reasons. I do so because those exact same events are still happening to people today. For those people, the trauma is fresh. It is *right now* and they need someone to see them. Isolation happens when you cannot find someone to identify with or are too vulnerable to put yourself out there. Often, people in the midst of trauma don't even know how to look for help. Simply surviving has taken every fiber of their being.

    I would one thousand times rather put my story out there and be misunderstood if it means reaching someone in the darkness and giving them a safe place to turn. This is how I feel about using my birth story with my eldest. Even people in my own circle are still having babies. Some know me well, some I have met more recently. When I tell our story, it gives someone permission to give a voice to what they are going through. It also gives them a resource for companionship.

    By working in the arena of birth trauma I live in the dark, yes. But I am there because new people are showing up every day and need a hand back out into the light. Until we make birth safe for everyone, there will always be this need. Isolation can be lethal. I cannot turn a blind eye to this.

    The same can be said of living with anxiety and depression. *Someone* has to spot it and sit with those who find themselves there. My husband's lovely cousin once did this for me well over a decade ago. She passed recently: such a loss.

    Further, God is not threatened by Christians who struggle with depression, anxiety, PTSD, or any other mental illness. On the contrary, He is close to those who are brokenhearted. I think that sometimes people forget that struggling with something is not the same as surrendering to it. Every person's journey is unique. It is high time we recognize and validate that. Equally, struggling with mental health doesn't mean that that is *all* a person does.

    There is enough pain in the world without walking around making sweeping declarations. If the most you can see of someone is their perceived failings and your response is to call those out rather than try to help,

1. You're missing out on getting to know someone truly and deeply. I am acquainted with many people who suffer from anxiety, whether mild or crippling. I couldn't imagine seeing them only for their most vulnerable attribute.

2. It is a severe red flag about your own character. Narcissists, for example, operate daily in the realm of reducing people to their worst perceived flaw. This is neither healthy for the assessor or the assessee. Don't be that person.

    It is so important to try not to invalidate someone's journey with carelessly chosen words. Beyond the obvious, they may be doing work you cannot even see. <3

Blue Christmas

I am trying to figure out what to even say. This year has been brutal. We have faced the loss of seven people. We have faced the moving away of loved ones. To top it all off, we've had some searing bad news this week. We are hurting so badly that there isn't room to breathe. I am trying so hard to hang in there, but if I am 'hanging in there' at all... well, it is by a thread.

Christmas is *my* season. This and Independence Day are my two favorite holidays. Throwing Christmas for my daughter took me through some dark and depressing winters. After depression finally went away, Christmas kept it from returning every year during the dark season. Christmas doubled in joy after my second little was born. It is a big and beautiful season. Simply put, Christmas is how I save myself. 

Not this year. I am "Christmassing" my butt off, to no avail. I have bought presents for everyone. I was even excited about my purchases. I am planning dinner and a day full of joy and relaxation. I pumped out Christmas cookies like a factory this week. 

When I stopped, I stopped hard and face-planted into full-blown depression. I cannot squeeze out any Christmas cheer. I cannot fake smile. I can barely function. This year, all I want for Christmas is the peace of sleeping through it. 

I am trying to refocus. I am trying to see it from my children's excited eyes. I am trying to see it from my own excited eyes from the past. It isn't working. The only thing I feel right now is intense sadness. That, and hollow. I feel so freaking hollow. 

So, anyway, I clearly need some prayer. 2017 feels like the year that stole everyone. I feel ravaged, when I only want to feel grateful. I have always loved Christmas, even before I *needed* Christmas. Now I feel so lost... I just don't know. 

Christmas this year is different. Thanksgiving was so empty and now Christmas looks to be, too. I think I am only writing this to put it out in there in hopes that expressing it will make it go away. I want my dad back... and Pappaw, and Grandma, and my uncle, and all of them. I want reality restored and everyone happy and healthy. That isn't possible. Sometimes, I guess you just have to hurt a thing through. That's one thing I have down pat right now. That is one thing I am capable of. I can hurt. 

Depression is NOT a Sin

Severe Depression Hidden Beneath a Smile

I was raised in a world where religion conflicts with the general consensus of society. 

Please understand, this statement is NOT to bash or undermine the value of spirituality in one's life. Rather, it is more a statement of the obvious. Religion and the world at large tend to clash. 

Sometimes that clash comes in the form of a lack of understanding about certain issues. At the time, depression was one of those issues. I do not remember anyone directly stating  that depression is a sin, but the idea I left childhood with was that it was. I believed that depression is a trick of the devil, and is something a 'good' Christian would not allow themselves to experience. The idea that somehow having enough of the Word of God in your heart would hold depression at bay. 

Then it happened. My husband and I moved. Someone in a position of authority over us was wreaking havoc in our personal life. Our daughter was born in such a horrific and traumatic way that I had never even heard of the possibility of a birth going so wrong. We moved away from the place of pain, and spent nine months living with different family members. It. Was. All. Too. Much. 

I was already in denial and avoiding the reality of depression and PTSD after my birth trauma. The denial lasted for about a year. By the time the two year mark rolled around, I was increasingly overwhelmed with both, but had such intense shame that I remained untreated. The people in my 'religious' world were oblivious to my pain. Two ladies from religions very different than my own randomly and briefly entered my life. Both of them saw it, and both of them caused me to break down and cry. It was almost another full year (3 years in, if you are counting) after that before I went to see a doctor. I knew I was depressed, but I was hoping not to be told that. The answer came back swiftly. The chemicals in my brain were imbalanced, and I had full blown MDD and anxiety. The doctor put me on Cymbalta, and I - so desperate for help - was too afraid to take it. 

Acknowledging what I resisted for so long opened the flood gates. I quit going out. I quit seeing people. I mechanically went through the motions of being a mother - something I had SO coveted after infertility and loss. I felt so cheated that this thing I wanted most in the world had brought me so much mental torture and pain. I felt guilty that I had not 'given' my sweet and happy daughter the perfect entrance into the world she so deserved; guilty that her birth was literally the worst day of my life instead of the best. 

I desperately hid my suicidal misery from everyone I could think of, for fear of being judged a weak Christian. The truth is that I have never sought God more fervently in my life. Reading Scripture filled as much of my spare time as possible. Prayer was a continuous inward cry of God, PLEASE HELP!! It was vital to my life in a way it hasn't been before, but even then I could not pray the depression away. It was NOT a demonic problem. It was a physical problem. My husband and doctor would convince me to get on my medication, and then I would confide in someone who would say "If it were me, I would not take it." so I would quit cold turkey, and become suicidal all over again. 

Let me make this clear to everyone who says that suicide is a choice. It is ONLY a choice in the barest possible sense of the word. Lynn Wells, person,  would NEVER in a million years take her life. Lynn Wells, sufferer of depression, believed that the world was better off without her... that someone could be a better mother to her child, a better wife to her husband, a better friend to her friends. The list goes on. Depression cripples you. It lies to you. It changes you. Suicide is never the rational choice, but depression isn't rational. It just isn't.

Thank the Lord, my pastor stepped up to bat for me. He explained to me that there are some outdated ideas about depression - not just in religious circles, but in the world at large. He explained to me that we are now aware that depression IS an illness. It is something that often (as in my case) is determined by chemicals in the body. He, along with three other people I love tremendously (one being my husband) became my core support, and made me understand that it was OKAY that I was sick. I timidly allowed a few more people to know what I was going through on a lesser level. To my shock, in a time when I initially felt that I was letting down everyone and could trust no one, I found myself graced and braced with a support system. 

About ten months after I was prescribed medication, I weaned off of it. I had prayed non-stop that the medicine would make me sick as it worked so I would know when to step down. It began making me ill about six months in, I think, and the doctor reduced my dose. When it made me sick again later on, I was able to come off of it. I could laugh again. I could smile without forcing it. I felt weak and vulnerable, but I was clearly recovering. People began to tell me "You sound so good!" instead of asking "Are you okay?" :)

Something important happened during that better part of a year when I was receiving help and treatment. I finally came out of my denial and acknowledged the pain I had been going through the past three years. I grieved over my birth experience. I grieved over the person who had nearly brought ruin to my marriage (not a female... nothing like that). I grieved over the friend who walked away from me when I needed a friend the most. I grieved, and grieved, and grieved, and at the end of that grief I rediscovered joy and peace. 

Could I have prayed away the depression? No. It was chemical. It required medication. Did I 'choose' to be depressed? No. NOBODY in the world wants to feel that. If you've been sad and figure you therefore understand true depression, I promise you that you do not. I still get sad sometimes. I still get the blues sometimes. Winter scares me to this day because I am most likely to develop days and days in a row of sadness. None of these things is the same as true depression. I hope to never experience it again, but I am glad that I am aware now that it exists. I am able to extend understanding and grace to those suffering, where before I could only do what essentially boiled down to praying for them to fix themselves. I am deeply ashamed of that.

I know this has been a long blog, but it bears repeating. I am NOT speaking out against religion. I am NOT saying that Christians are bad people who don't get it. Why? Because I was young and ignorant when I had those views, and since I have been through it myself, my eyes have been opened to an entire world of other Christians who have also been through it. We DO cling to our Lord and Savior when we are despairing. We DO look to His Word for comfort, and comfort may be found. I had a very young and arrogant view of life, but that has changed now. 

If, somehow, you find yourself among the small fraction of people left who think depression is a sin, please reconsider. 

Depression is not a sin. It is not a demonic possession or oppression. It is not a choice that any person would make for himself. Depression is serious, and when believers turn their back on one another (again, the few that do - I am in no way indicting everyone), then they ARE sinning. 

We are called to "Be kindly affectioned one to another with brotherly love; in honour preferring one another;". (Romans 12:10) Yes, there are verses about reproving, rebuking, and exhorting (2 Tim 4:2) and a verse stating "faithful are the wounds of a friend" (Prov 27:6), but those verses would be grossly misapplied in this situation. An uncaring person focuses solely on reproving, rebuking, and wounding but ignores the edifying, affection, brotherly love, honor or the many, many commands the Lord has given to treat one another with love, compassion, and grace. 

In this time of renewed national attention on depression, may we Christians not brush it off as a 'worldly' problem or as a symptom of failing faith. Let us discover those in the church pews who are suffering, and wrap ourselves around them in support. When people fall ill or are struck with tragedy, we step up for them. When that tragedy or illness leads to depression, let us not back away. God forbid we should be condemning, but instead be stabilizing, supportive, and renewing. These are true hallmarks of Christianity.