Depression-My Story

I've been working on this post for a while.  It took a lot of thought and sometimes I would just get tired and put it off to the side for a later time.  Finally I'm done.  Warning: It is long.


I loved Elder Hollands talk, "Like A Broken Vessel".  I listened to it again recently. So many people suffer silently with some kind of mental/emotional illness be it depression, anxiety, or others.  It can be a chronic lifelong struggle, sometimes circumstantial, sometimes it only touches people briefly in their lives.

When dealing with these things you can feel isolated and alone in your battles.  To hear someone talk about it over the pulpit and know that they, a spiritual giant, have dealt with depression firsthand is comforting.  I'm sure it brought hope and peace to the many who deal with this trial day to day.  Knowing your not alone in your struggles can help to lift a burden ever so slightly...if only a little at least it is something. 

My close friend Margaret has dealt with depression most of her life. (BTW, I have her permission to share this.) She used to feel guilty and frustrated that even though she had faith and was praying and reading her scriptures, all the things we are supposed to do, she still needed medication to help her live with her depression.  After many years she has finally come to accept that this is her trail in life and sometimes she needs medication, that it is okay to get that kind of help.  She has actually received priesthood blessings that say because she has such great faith she was given this trial.  I love and respect her and she has helped me in my own battle with depression.  She is spiritual giant and a great example to me in so many ways and always has such wise insights when I talk with her.

As far as medication is concerned I think some people, especially in the church, feel that if they are spiritually strong enough and have enough faith they shouldn't need medication.  This is a common misconception.  For any kind of physical sickness people can accept the help of medication but for some reason with a mental illness some people have a hard time accepting that kind of help.  Maybe they feel they are spiritually weak if they need that.  This may not be true of everyone, it is just a conclusion I have come to in my experience with depression and people I know that suffer from it. Sometimes the answer to our prayers may include medication often coupled with other things like exercise, counseling, etc.
Not everyone needs medication to deal with these struggles but for some it is necessary and they should never be ashamed and we should never judge.

It is hard for those who have never battled with depression to understand it.  Everyone has bad, gloomy days but true depression isn't like those days, at least in my experience.  Some might think you can just get out of bed and get going, pull yourself out of it by getting busy with life.  That doesn't always help with true, debilitating depression.

Below is my story.

My Story with Depression
Part One-The Hardest Part

I've always known I needed to write this experience down for me and for my children.  I need to write it as a reminder that the Lord is there and aware of me because in the thick of it that was hard to see. 

Listening to Elder Holland's talk took me back to my own struggles with depression and anxiety. When I look back on my life, in hindsight, I can see that anxiety is something I've always dealt with to a small degree.  Even now I still struggle with anxiety.  I can recognize it and usually can keep it under control but it is there always quietly nagging at me.  I have also dealt with severe, debilitating depression. 

Where did it all start?  When did that "dark night of the mind and spirit" (As Elder Holland puts it) happen to me?  I remember specifically when it all started spiraling downward at an accelerated, frightening speed.  It was so fast and swift that it scared me more than I've ever been scared in my life.  I had no idea what was happening to me.

I remember coming home for the summer, after my first year at college.  Life was a little upside down at the time.  My dad had gotten a transfer for work and was already living hours away while my mom was still back home, with my 2 younger brothers, trying to sell our house.  I didn't realize it then but I think subconsciously, after a big life change of going away to college and then coming to the only home I'd known changed, was really hard for me.

Not long after I was back I saw something disturbing on television.  I won't share the details of that, but it really bothered me to the point of obsession.  Even though I couldn't recognize it then, I know now this was because I was in a emotionally fragile state.  That was the moment where I started spiraling downward into a deep depression.  I didn't know that is what was happening though.  Honestly I thought I was going crazy. This may seem a little nerdy to compare it to but when I think of how I felt it was like the visual of a dementor, from Harry Potter, sucking all the hope and light out.  It wasn't an evil presence just an absence of happiness, peace and light. It was like all the light, happiness, joy and peace and hope had been sucked completely from my life.

I started being consumed by totally irrational thoughts.  At night in bed I started having small anxiety attacks.  I didn't know what they were at the time.  It was years later when my friend Margaret was describing her anxiety attacks that I realized what had been going on with me then.

After several days and nights of suffering I went in to my mom's room and told her how I was feeling.  I remember thinking she would pretty much think I was crazy and there was no hope. (Just an example of my irrational thinking at the time.) This probably sounds nutty to anyone who hasn't dealt with severe depression.  It took me a while to get to a point where I could talk to people about this experience without feeling like they would look at me like I was crazy.  Of course my mom responded in a loving way like any mom would.  She tried to reassure me.

In the weeks that followed things continued to deteriorate.  I cried, or was on the verge of crying, everyday for most of the day, at least it felt like it.  I went through life like a robot.  I felt no emotion but sadness and hopelessness.  I started working at my job at a pizza place that I had before I went to college.  Even there I had moments where I would quietly cry.  I remember one time a mother and daughter came in and were just happily chatting in their booth.  I could feel the tears coming so I went in to do some dishes.  I sat there and cried while I thought about that mother and daughter.  I thought about how happy they looked and the fact(at least in my mind at the time) that I would never be happy 7that again.  Totally irrational thoughts I know but, that's what depression can do to a person.

As time wore on my mom tried to exude a hopeful, it will be okay attitude.  However I could see the worry in her eyes.  How could she not be worried?  Her daughter was crying all the time.  We would be playing dominoes or going on walks and I'd be crying.  The conversation on our walks were like a broken record.  I would talk about the same things over and over.  I think I was just trying to figure it all out with no success. 

It got so bad that I remember thinking I could end my life.  I didn't seriously consider it but the thought did cross my mind and it scared me!  It only happened once, thankfully.  I remember that moment pretty vividly. I was be in the shower shaving my legs and the thought came to me that I could end it all right there.  It was disturbing and scary.  I remember thinking, "What is wrong with me?!  Who am I?!"  I wondered if I even knew myself.

During this whole time I was receiving priesthood blessings.  It was really hard to feel much relief in the state that I was in.  I hung onto my testimony from past spiritual experiences for dear life! 
I would think of the Savior and the moment that he felt truly alone and forsaken on the cross and cries out to Heavenly Father.  My prayers during this time were desperate.  There was a lot of crying and begging and pleading. I remember saying repeatedly in my prayers, "Heavenly Father I can't feel You but I know You are there because I've felt You many times before.  Please help me to hold on.  Please help me to keep my testimony intact.  Please, please, please!"

During this whole thing that was one of my most prominent worries. I would think, "Please don't let me break.  Please don't let me break"  I hung on to the hope that there would be an end, relief at some point and I wanted to still be in one piece spiritually. Up to this point in life I'd never had a trial that really tested me and brought me to the edge spiritually.  In all my other trials I always felt solid in that area.  I really had to have faith and cling to past spiritual experiences since I wasn't feeling much in the moment.

My mom began to see that dominos and walks and other distratctions weren't going to help me.  She called LDS social services and made an appointment with a counselor.  On our way to the counselor my mom took me to lunch.  I usually would have loved that. But, in my state of mind I mostly just tried to hold back the tears through the whole meal, sometimes even crying a little.

Gosh, my poor mom.  I can't even imagine, especially being a mother myself now.  I was so nervous on the way to LDS social services.  I truly thought they wouldn't be able to help me.  I had NO idea I was depressed.  I thought they would just tell me, "Sorry, your losing your mind and you'll have to be admitted to the loony bin."  I seriously thought that! In my mind that would be the outcome 100%.

We stopped for gas at one point and I started having an anxiety attack.  My mom had to get me a brown bag to breath in because I was starting to hyperventilate.  When we finally got there I told the counselor everything through my tears.  To my shock he didn't think I was crazy.  He referred me to a psychiatrist.  The one they work with was out of town for another week.  I really wanted to go to an LDS one because one of my concerns was the fact that even though I continued to pray, read my scriptures and get blessings there was no relief.  I didn't know how heavily someone who may not be religious or even believe in God would weigh this particular concern of mine.  Luckily my mom's friend, who was a counselor,(more about her later)recommended a good psychiatrist.  He wasn't a member but he was great.

He sat a listened intently to me while taking notes.  He asked me questions here and there.  Finally, he told me I was severely depressed.  Everyone could probably see that but me. Just hearing that and feeling like it was something I would get past was so relieving.  I wasn't crazy!  He prescribed me some medication I took for 6 months.  It was enough to get me out of it.  Luckily I didn't need it past that.

My depression was more circumstantial than chronic.  When there are big changes like new babies, even after I got married I get a little depressed and can feel the anxiety creeping in.  It was scary at first because it reminded me of this experience.  It wasn't near as severe but felt similar enough that I was afraid of it getting out of control again.  Luckily I've learned and I can recognize it and keep it under control.  Depression and anxiety can go hand in hand sometimes.  I feel blessed that depression isn't a chronic part of my life.  I also feel for those who deal with it on a regular basis or even for a short time like me.

Part 2- Hindsight

As alone as I felt during this time in my life I look back in hindsight and can see where Heavenly Father was there all along, as I was desperately hoping. 
There were some moments of fleeting hope that I recognized at the time very briefly.  There were also many other things that happened that I didn't realize were answers to prayers until later, when I was past it all. 

During one family scripture study we were reading in the Book of Mormon.  It was Alma 38:5.

"And now my son, Shiblon, I would that ye should remember, that as much as ye shall put your trust in God even so much ye shall be delivered out of your trials, and your troubles, and your afflictions, and ye shall be lifted up at the last day."

For a short moment it was like the dark curtain keeping out the light had been yanked open.  I highlighted the verse and wrote summer 2000 in the margin so I could hang onto that glimmer of hope and never forget the moment that Heavenly Father was telling me to trust and hang on.  I still see it there when I open my scriptures and it reminds of that tender mercy almost 14 years ago. The curtain came back down but I clung to that promise that if I trusted in the Lord I would be delivered out of my trials.  I didn't know when but I knew it would happen sometime.  It was reason to keep putting on foot in front of the other.

Another time I felt a little nudge of "hang in there" was kind of funny, maybe even corny.  However it didn't feel funny or corny at the time.  Even now I'm still grateful for it.  I was in the waiting room for a dental appointment and a morning show was on.  They had the group Savage Garden as musical guests.  They were singing the song "Crash and Burn"  One part stuck out to me and really felt like a push forward.  It was like another nudge to keep moving and that I'm not alone. 

Let me be the one you call
If you jump I'll break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone
'Cause there has always been heartache and pain
And when it's over you'll breathe again
You'll breath again

It may be a secular song.  I don't even know all the words but those words struck me so forcefully.  I felt like it was an answer to prayer.  It was another glimmer of hope for me.

I talked earlier about my mom's friend who was a counselor.  Her name is Teresa.  She had been inactive from the church for years. During this time, before I went to LDS social services, Teresa started coming back to church with her college aged son.  Her first Sunday back she sat by my mom in Relief Society.  She looked past my mom to me.  I'm sure I looked like I had been crying for days since I probably had.  I think I might have been quietly crying at that moment too. (I was always hoping that people at church thought I was crying because my family was going to be moving from the ward I'd been in all my life and I was sad.)  Teresa asked my mom what was going on.  I don't remember what my mom said but after that Teresa took interest and was there to help through the whole process.  She recommended the psychiatrist, she would call and check up on me.  Halfway through the summer, after I was on meds and starting to work my way out of it, my mom and brothers moved to be with my dad.  I stayed at my grandparents, who were at their cabin for the summer, with my older brother.  Teresa would call me to see how I was doing and she would go on walks with me.  I know it wasn't a coincidence that she decided to start coming back to church that summer.  It was a small miracle. She was a great help to me and my mom.

Sometime after my visit with the psychiatrist and starting the medication our home was sold.  As I said above my mom and brothers moved hours away to be with my dad.  Luckily some of the light was starting to come back and hope was returning.  I had a really great friend that has been my friend since we were little named Marcee.  She was home for the summer and she was a big help too, after my mom left.  We started walking together.  Since she was trying to lighten my spirits she suggested we sit down and map out our route.  She named each street some kind of funny name like "shake your booty lane" and would come up with some particular way we would walk down it.  It would be like speed walking or some other silly thing.  She made me laugh and I needed that. She was so awesome and I am grateful for her.

I know that Heavenly Father was there and helping me along.  It was truly hard to see for the majority of it but when I look back now my vision is clearer.  I know I can do hard things and I know that Heavenly Father and the Savior will help me.  Even when I don't feel aware of it they are there.  It reminds me of the popular poem "Footprints In The Sand".

The Lord truly did carry me through this time.  It was the hardest time of my life and I made it through because of my faith in the Lord.  I made it through because he placed people in my path that were essential to my coming out on the other side of this. 

What I've learned from this is that we are never truly alone even though it may feel like it.  I've also learned that it is so essential to strengthen ourselves spiritually always because we never know when a time will come that we bring us to our knees and make us question all that we've learned and believed.

Although it was so painful at the time, it caused me to grow and stretch in such an intense way and in such a short period of time.

I used to wonder, especially in the middle of it, what the Lord wanted me to learn from this.  Why was this happening to me?  Some answers have trickled in over the years. One answer I've received is that the Lord was testing my faith in Him and all that I believed.  I've never had my faith tested like that before and the Lord must have felt it necessary for me to be tested in such a way.  I also feel like it has helped me to be more empathetic toward others who struggle with depression/anxiety.  Hopefully I can be a help to others because of my experience.  It may have been brief compared to others but it was painfully real and I'll never forget it.