I have been in a season of healing for the past year. I began my blog to document my journey of recovery after I was hospitalized, but it has become part of my story and journey and the very place I seek to show others that there is beauty within this painful, cold world.
I began taking 30 milligrams of anti-depressants the last few days I was in the hospital. I remember my throat closing up and sweat dripping down my face because I had never taken any psychiatric medication, nor was I really sure what I was getting into. Fast forward 14 months, and I am now on the highest legal dosage, feeling as if I have done something wrong.
I don't know where in my mind I was given the idea that medication was bad. I don't think that I necessarily perceive medication as the wrong choice, but rather where did I go wrong that I can't handle what is going on within my mind. Even so, we were never promised that these small capsules would bring forth bounds of happiness; yet, I still sometimes believe that it will.
I have spent a lot of my time through recovery becoming familiar with the world of mental health, as well as in engaging in the community as much as possible. It is often hard to find a nice place to rest in a secular-dominated community, with a Christian mindset about the realities of mental illness. I believe in self-love, self-worth, self-care, and always striving to fight, but I believe it under the basis of what Scripture says and not under the basis of trying to figure life out on my own strength. It seems a little hypocritical because I am often looking to do things under my own powers rather than whatever Christ knows is the correct way. While journeying through this time in my life, trying to understand the truth medically & trust God spiritually, I realized that healing comes from the Lord and not the small, plastic capsules, balancing the chemicals in my brain.
My formal medical diagnosis is "type 1" or "stage 1" Major Depressive Disorder. It is defined as "The persistent feeling of sadness or loss of interest that characterizes major depression can lead to a range of behavioral and physical symptoms." Imagine a time where you have felt your lowest and multiple it by 10, except it doesn't go away when you wake up. It has changed my appetite, my abilities to socialize, and my overall outlook on life. Along with this, I have dealt and still deal with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which is what the average person faces. It often feels like being consumed by the fear and worry of things that will almost never happen. Anxiety and depression play hand-in-hand. They manifest into each other and I am left to deal with whatever comes of it. I used to be embarrassed to tell others that these were things I was dealing with. It isn't necessarily that I feel it is my identity, nor want to make it my identity; but, I don't feel such a sense of shame in letting others know that I struggle with something serious.
In a back and forth time in my life, I have wondered how people move forward with life without Jesus. While I have searched for my place in the mental health community, I see a lot of brokenness and a lot of loss. People often talk about feeling a sense of emptiness. They give soliloquies about their never-ending feelings of hopelessness. At the start of my journey, I realized that I had the chance to make a difference in the way that people understand mental health and understand how turning to Jesus may not heal, but oh man does it help.
We often believe that things happen as a result of what we choose to do. This is partly true in the fact that we have free will to do what we want. This is not true in the sense that we can be our own saviors. In times of pain and desperation, it is much easier to retreat than it is to admit we cannot do it alone. I think that this isn't something you realize until you are sitting on the school bathroom floor, quietly sobbing to yourself because you cannot do this alone. Self-care only goes so far before you see that things don't change. I could do the same routine every single day. I could have an entire face care routine, a strategic way of choosing my outfits, eat the healthiest as possible, but at the end of the day those feelings will still be there and I will still be alone in the bottom of despair.
God gives us free-will with the idea in mind that we would choose Him. But, He does know that we are human, falling short of perfection every single time. There is no life apart from Christ (Romans 5), and even in the seasons we can't seem to see the light, the Lord still shines and holds us through to the other side of our pain. (Psalm 27) If you are waiting for tiny, plastic capsules to be the answer on the days you can't shale the feeling of worthlessness, you will never be satisfied. Now, don't get me wrong -- medication helps. It is easy to feel like it isn't making a difference, but there are some days I can feel the imbalance reaching a sense of stability. Medicatio does not make you any less worthy or any less valuable. It is okay to need both Jesus and the medication.
Somewhere along the long walk of handling depression, I saw through to the reality that healing requires maturity and healing requires strength. It is so easy to lay and wallow in the mud. There are a lot of days that I choose that because it is comfortable. But ultimate healing and redemption come from the choice of full surrender from what you're holding on to and giving it to God. (I am speaking to myself here, too.) I don't think I ever necessarily ask God to void me of my depression, but rather gift me with the strength to turn to Him in the moments of hurt. I don't enjoy being depressed, but it has taught me so much about leaning into Christ instead of leaning into myself and I never want to lose that ability. If somewhere, years and years down the road from now, the Lord rebalances my brain, I will praise Him just the same as I have here in these seasons of misunderstanding. Because, in both instances, God is still God and He is still good when I am not.
I am not any less because I take medication and neither are you. We saw what we needed and we accepted it. In the same way, seek first the face and kingdom of Christ, and from that everything else will flow. There is beauty in the seemingly mundane. Dance in the promises and mercy of a good, good Father.
Emma