Please Share
I hope as you read this blog you will feel free to share your own stories, insights, and experiences. The more we can all share, the more we can all help one another! I believe that if someone can get on this blog and read many people's experiences with depression, they won't feel so alone. Please feel free to leave an anonymous comment if you'd like to share something personal and would rather not be named. Thanks!
Preface
Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
-Emma Lou Thayne[1]
I have depression. Giving utterance to these words can feel to me like the confession of a sin or a deep, dark secret. I never know what reaction to expect, but it is almost always difficult to say the words. Still, I feel that depression is now a part of me. It is a part of my history; it has helped shape me into the person I am, and it has taught me much of what I now know to be true. Letting people into this part of myself is liberating for me, and I can only hope that learning of my experiences may be enlightening and uplifting for others. Depression is a story that needs to be told.
[1] “Where Can I Turn For Peace?” Hymns 129
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
-Emma Lou Thayne[1]
I have depression. Giving utterance to these words can feel to me like the confession of a sin or a deep, dark secret. I never know what reaction to expect, but it is almost always difficult to say the words. Still, I feel that depression is now a part of me. It is a part of my history; it has helped shape me into the person I am, and it has taught me much of what I now know to be true. Letting people into this part of myself is liberating for me, and I can only hope that learning of my experiences may be enlightening and uplifting for others. Depression is a story that needs to be told.
[1] “Where Can I Turn For Peace?” Hymns 129
My Story
I have struggled with depression off and on since high school, though during my first few episodes, I didn’t know what it was. For many people, depression is caused by traumatic experiences from childhood or from certain experiences in their lives. For me, it was triggered at certain points in my life, but as far as I know, it was not caused by anything other than a genetic imbalance in brain chemicals. It wasn’t until a few months before I got married that I found out that my depression is genetic; many in my immediate and extended family suffer from depression.
My worst experience with depression started a few weeks after I got married. I used to hate saying that. I hated the fact that getting married triggered depression for me. Other than my depression, our first few months of marriage constituted one of the best times in my life and I have many wonderful memories from that time. My husband Jeff and I were both still in college and each had two jobs. We were poor and busy but loved it, and we had fun together. We certainly were in for a learning experience, though. Depression slapped me in the face in a way I had never felt before. I was forced to deal with it because it became my life. I had to face it head on; I had to talk about it, admit to it, and deal with it. I believe that Jeff also learned a great deal about himself, about me, and about dealing with problems that he didn’t understand during this time.
After about four months of fairly severe depression, I started taking an anti-depressant, which worked very well for me. I took it for about five months, until I found out I was pregnant. Pregnancy seemed to change my hormones dramatically, and it took over a year after giving birth to my daughter, Emma, for my depression to again put in an appearance.
I now deal with depression for two or three weeks at a time here and there, and I have realized that I will probably never be free from this illness. Like a cancer patient, I consider myself “in remission,” rather than completely cured. This doesn’t bother me too much anymore. It’s my trial, and I’ve found my own ways to live with it.
My worst experience with depression started a few weeks after I got married. I used to hate saying that. I hated the fact that getting married triggered depression for me. Other than my depression, our first few months of marriage constituted one of the best times in my life and I have many wonderful memories from that time. My husband Jeff and I were both still in college and each had two jobs. We were poor and busy but loved it, and we had fun together. We certainly were in for a learning experience, though. Depression slapped me in the face in a way I had never felt before. I was forced to deal with it because it became my life. I had to face it head on; I had to talk about it, admit to it, and deal with it. I believe that Jeff also learned a great deal about himself, about me, and about dealing with problems that he didn’t understand during this time.
After about four months of fairly severe depression, I started taking an anti-depressant, which worked very well for me. I took it for about five months, until I found out I was pregnant. Pregnancy seemed to change my hormones dramatically, and it took over a year after giving birth to my daughter, Emma, for my depression to again put in an appearance.
I now deal with depression for two or three weeks at a time here and there, and I have realized that I will probably never be free from this illness. Like a cancer patient, I consider myself “in remission,” rather than completely cured. This doesn’t bother me too much anymore. It’s my trial, and I’ve found my own ways to live with it.
The Lessons
Perhaps the worst aspect of depression for me was the inability to reconcile my life and my feelings with the gospel I had grown up learning. I was living the gospel, yet I was miserable. I knew that it was not my fault that I suffered from depression. I knew it was not because I sinned, and I did not do anything to drive away the Spirit. So why couldn’t I feel the Spirit? Why didn’t I feel comfort? Why did I feel more frustrated and alone and guilty when I prayed? Satan is the source of those feelings, so why did I get stuck with an “illness” that makes it easier for Satan to influence my thoughts and feelings?
Though our feelings try to convince us otherwise, the answers to all of my questions can indeed be found in the scriptures, in the gospel. Those answers are well worth the pain it takes to find them. The lessons I have learned through the grueling school of depression have convinced me that I wouldn’t trade my trials with another person. I know that the challenges my Father in Heaven has given me are hand-tailored for my growth and development. That is what gets me through all of it, and that is what gives me hope.
Though our feelings try to convince us otherwise, the answers to all of my questions can indeed be found in the scriptures, in the gospel. Those answers are well worth the pain it takes to find them. The lessons I have learned through the grueling school of depression have convinced me that I wouldn’t trade my trials with another person. I know that the challenges my Father in Heaven has given me are hand-tailored for my growth and development. That is what gets me through all of it, and that is what gives me hope.
What is Depression?
I want to make it perfectly clear that depression is a mental illness. There is a difference between the sorrow that comes from sin and clinical depression. The kind of depression I am talking about here is the depression that seems to come for no reason, although it may be triggered by some event or change. It does not start because of something we do wrong and it won’t go away by repenting and seeking forgiveness. The bishop cannot cure it, although he may be able to point sufferers in the right direction or recommend professional help.
There are a few different types of depression. For my purposes, I obviously refer mainly to my own experience with clinical or chemical depression. The exact cause of depression is unknown, but it is known that depression involves an imbalance of chemicals in the brain. According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, what I have suffered from would be termed Major Depressive Disorder. This involves Major and Minor Depressive Episodes, which are periods of two or more weeks at a time in which depressive symptoms are present. Another disorder, called Dysthymic Disorder, involves depression for two or more years straight, rather than distinct episodes.
A Minor Depressive Episode involves two to five of the following symptoms, and a Major Depressive Episode involves five or more:
1. depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day
2. diminished pleasure in activities
3. significant weight loss or gain
4. insomnia or hypersomnia
5. psychomotor agitation or retardation
6. fatigue or loss of energy
7. feelings of worthlessness or excessive feelings of guilt
8. difficulty concentrating
9. recurrent thoughts of death; imagining, planning, or attempting suicide.[1]
Any person with this last symptom should seek help immediately, whether or not they have any more symptoms.
This information is not meant for self-diagnosing, nor should it be used to replace seeking help or advice from someone more qualified to give it. It is simply a guide for anyone who believes they may have depression, or for anyone who wonders what depression entails. This information comes from the manual used by mental health professionals to diagnose mental disorders.
Before continuing to read, please know that I have described depression in some detail in this book, feeling that it needs to be said. Some people will find it helpful to read, to feel that someone understands what they are going through. But for others, it is simply a reminder of terrible emotions and can heighten sensitivity to them, making it more difficult to bear. If you are depressed, please skip anything that does not help you. The majority of this book is full of hope and lessons learned, and is meant to uplift and inspire. There are lessons to be learned from depression, as from any experience in life. I would like to share some of my own lessons that I have learned from the difficult school of depression.
[1] DSM-IV, 356.
There are a few different types of depression. For my purposes, I obviously refer mainly to my own experience with clinical or chemical depression. The exact cause of depression is unknown, but it is known that depression involves an imbalance of chemicals in the brain. According to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, what I have suffered from would be termed Major Depressive Disorder. This involves Major and Minor Depressive Episodes, which are periods of two or more weeks at a time in which depressive symptoms are present. Another disorder, called Dysthymic Disorder, involves depression for two or more years straight, rather than distinct episodes.
A Minor Depressive Episode involves two to five of the following symptoms, and a Major Depressive Episode involves five or more:
1. depressed mood most of the day, nearly every day
2. diminished pleasure in activities
3. significant weight loss or gain
4. insomnia or hypersomnia
5. psychomotor agitation or retardation
6. fatigue or loss of energy
7. feelings of worthlessness or excessive feelings of guilt
8. difficulty concentrating
9. recurrent thoughts of death; imagining, planning, or attempting suicide.[1]
Any person with this last symptom should seek help immediately, whether or not they have any more symptoms.
This information is not meant for self-diagnosing, nor should it be used to replace seeking help or advice from someone more qualified to give it. It is simply a guide for anyone who believes they may have depression, or for anyone who wonders what depression entails. This information comes from the manual used by mental health professionals to diagnose mental disorders.
Before continuing to read, please know that I have described depression in some detail in this book, feeling that it needs to be said. Some people will find it helpful to read, to feel that someone understands what they are going through. But for others, it is simply a reminder of terrible emotions and can heighten sensitivity to them, making it more difficult to bear. If you are depressed, please skip anything that does not help you. The majority of this book is full of hope and lessons learned, and is meant to uplift and inspire. There are lessons to be learned from depression, as from any experience in life. I would like to share some of my own lessons that I have learned from the difficult school of depression.
[1] DSM-IV, 356.
(Chapter 1) The Raging Tempest
Master, with anguish of spirit
I bow in my grief today.
The depths of my sad heart are troubled.
Oh, waken and save, I pray! […]
And I perish! I perish! dear Master.
Oh, hasten and take control!
-Mary Ann Baker[1]
I bow in my grief today.
The depths of my sad heart are troubled.
Oh, waken and save, I pray! […]
And I perish! I perish! dear Master.
Oh, hasten and take control!
-Mary Ann Baker[1]
Depression seems to be a taboo subject in its own way, and I believe it is because of misunderstanding and guilt. Those who have never experienced it can not understand it, and some tend to believe it is not a “real” illness—that it can be easily overcome. Those who have it are not sure what to believe, and feel guilty and ashamed. We do not want to burden others with our problems so we don’t admit what it feels like. If anyone is going to get anywhere with this problem, it has to be faced and discussed for what it is.
[1] “Master, the Tempest is Raging,” Hymns 105
Depression is Like
Depression is the worst I’ve ever felt about myself. Every negative feeling—guilt, anger, frustration, loneliness, emptiness—combine exponentially and push me down so I can’t breathe. I feel ignored, resentful, mean, useless, inadequate, and just plain sad.
Depression is like a downward spiral. The harder I try to get out, the more I realize I can’t. That makes me a failure, so I quit trying. But that makes me lazy and a quitter, so I get frustrated. Then I feel guilty and frustrated, so I get deeper into the darkness.
Depression is like trying to run in water up to my waist, getting deeper the harder I try. Push and struggle, I’ll never get as far as the people on dry land. They walk, even run, heedlessly on. I feel like I’m drowning, by myself, and it’s my fault. It seems that nobody can get me out.
Depression is like walking around under a gray cloud or being inside a gray bubble. The people around me can’t see it but I certainly feel it and the depressed part of me knows I don’t belong. I remember being happy, but I can no longer relate to or reach that part of myself. I feel like I’m in a different world, looking in on the happy one and wondering how to get in. I wonder if everybody else can see the darkness around me and want to stay away. They know something’s wrong with me. I hope they don’t see it, because then they’ll know that I’m “one of those” people—the kind with “problems,” so they have to be careful. I’m fragile. I’m humiliated.
I didn’t realize how depressed I was until one day when I was in a grocery store. As I looked at each person I passed, I couldn’t understand why they could be smiling. I couldn’t see what they should be happy about, or what could be good in their lives. I saw an elderly couple who looked perfectly content and wondered what they saw in their own lives that was worth any effort or that brought them any satisfaction or joy. I wondered how people around me could be acting like life was good when life was not good. When I realized I was thinking this way, I suddenly felt completely distanced from everyone else. I was in a kind of bubble and couldn’t find my way back into the real world where people were happy and life made sense. It was staggering to realize that I was actually experiencing these thoughts and feelings. This was simply not me.
Depression is like a downward spiral. The harder I try to get out, the more I realize I can’t. That makes me a failure, so I quit trying. But that makes me lazy and a quitter, so I get frustrated. Then I feel guilty and frustrated, so I get deeper into the darkness.
Depression is like trying to run in water up to my waist, getting deeper the harder I try. Push and struggle, I’ll never get as far as the people on dry land. They walk, even run, heedlessly on. I feel like I’m drowning, by myself, and it’s my fault. It seems that nobody can get me out.
Depression is like walking around under a gray cloud or being inside a gray bubble. The people around me can’t see it but I certainly feel it and the depressed part of me knows I don’t belong. I remember being happy, but I can no longer relate to or reach that part of myself. I feel like I’m in a different world, looking in on the happy one and wondering how to get in. I wonder if everybody else can see the darkness around me and want to stay away. They know something’s wrong with me. I hope they don’t see it, because then they’ll know that I’m “one of those” people—the kind with “problems,” so they have to be careful. I’m fragile. I’m humiliated.
I didn’t realize how depressed I was until one day when I was in a grocery store. As I looked at each person I passed, I couldn’t understand why they could be smiling. I couldn’t see what they should be happy about, or what could be good in their lives. I saw an elderly couple who looked perfectly content and wondered what they saw in their own lives that was worth any effort or that brought them any satisfaction or joy. I wondered how people around me could be acting like life was good when life was not good. When I realized I was thinking this way, I suddenly felt completely distanced from everyone else. I was in a kind of bubble and couldn’t find my way back into the real world where people were happy and life made sense. It was staggering to realize that I was actually experiencing these thoughts and feelings. This was simply not me.
A Day in the Life
Note: This section describes an entire terrible day of depression, as I experienced it when mine was at its worst, as a newlywed. The purpose of this description is to help those who've never experienced it get an idea of how awful it can be, and to help those experiencing it feel they are not alone. If it is depressing to you to read, please DON'T. I feel strange posting it, but I think it would cause a strange gap to skip it, so I'm just putting everything on.
When I wake up in the morning, I do a mental check. How do I feel? Is it going to be one of the bad days? Do I feel anything? Sometimes I don’t feel any sort of emotion, but at least that’s better than the overwhelming darkness. On the dark days I try to go back to sleep. That will at least delay the beginning of another day. I wonder why I have to get up when it’s all going to be the same and nothing is going to feel like living is supposed to feel. I try not to think about the negative feelings because I know if I dwell on it too much I’ll start crying. And if I let myself, I can cry for hours.
I know I shouldn’t stay in bed too long, because if my husband comes home from his early morning job he’ll see that it’s a bad morning already and he might ask me about it. I can’t talk about it, because I don’t understand it. When I finally drag myself out of bed, it’s as if I haven’t slept at all, or maybe slept far too long. I feel groggy and miserable, and don’t have the energy to even take a shower. I eventually do though, and maybe I’ll make myself eat some breakfast.
I try to get to my class right on time. I don’t want to be early because then I’ll have to try to look busy so nobody will talk to me. But I don’t want to be late because then everybody will look at me when I walk in. It’s best to blend in with the crowd, and if I can, sit in the corner where it’s safe. It’s hard to concentrate on what the professor is saying, and I tap my pencil and check my watch at least eleven times during the course of the 50-minute class period. Half the time I doodle on my paper and can’t hold my hand still, and half the time I rest my elbows on the desk and my forehead in my hands, trying not to fall asleep and trying to listen.
After class I go to work in one of the computer labs on campus. I’m a writing tutor, so if anybody comes in for help I’ll actually have to talk. Luckily, I won’t have to talk about anything personal or about myself, just about the paper they’ve written and what they could do to improve their writing.
When I first walk in, my fellow tutor and friend greets me with the most sincere “How are you doing?” that I may have ever heard. I almost tell her that the past month has been one day of tears after another and that the person she’s known is not the real me, because we met just a few weeks before I fell into depression. I waver for a moment between the truth and a simple “fine” because she seems like she actually wants to know; in fact, she may even be able to tell that there’s something wrong. I end up telling her I’m okay, but don’t elaborate either way. I try to find something to talk to her about but don’t feel like anything I have to say can relate to the real world and instead sit down at a computer to do my homework.
I read from one of my anthologies of English Literature for about two minutes, get nothing out of it, and log on to the computer. Maybe I’ll check my e-mail, or maybe I’ll do some research for a paper that’s due next week. I do neither, choosing instead to get on the internet and play a mindless game that’s much like dominoes. I do that for about a half an hour, help one person with a paper, and after my hour-long shift I go home for lunch.
At home I almost cry when I can’t find anything that I feel like eating, and I do cry when Jeff comes home and asks if I’m okay. He hugs me for awhile, telling me it’s okay to cry, and asks if he can do anything. Just his being around me and not making me talk is enough, so I lie on the bed curled up beside him as he does homework for an hour. I think about nothing as he lays a hand on my back and occasionally squeezes my arm to let me know he’s still there. I am so grateful for him and wonder how long he’ll be able to put up with me. Sometimes on my sadder days I fear that he will start to wonder why he married me, or at least wonder what happened to the happy girl he did marry. Somewhere inside of me is a logical glimmer of hope that tells me that he didn’t marry me because I’m always happy, that he doesn’t blame me for having depression, and that believing any of these lies is putting him on a level far below the wonderful person he really is. I know that he will never regret marrying me and I know that he will help me and love me always. But sometimes part of me is still afraid and ashamed.
After two more classes I have to get ready to go to work at my second job. I don’t like this one as much as the writing center, but it’s a good job. I work at a Laundromat and dry cleaner, and some days I sit in the office and try to think of what kind of little cleaning task I should take on. As long as I stay busy I feel good, but if I sit around too long I start to feel almost physically ill because my whole body feels so strange from the depression. Once I actually called another girl who works there to see if she could come in and take over for me, but I usually just deal with it. After all, it seems to be my life now. I let myself cry a little bit in the office, but I know that customers could come anytime and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying. I go out to the Laundromat area and walk around to look for something to do.
After a few hours at work, Jeff comes to bring me some dinner. We sit in the office and eat together and it’s a bright spot in my day. It always cheers me up when he comes to see me at work because I have an ally in this strange world that just recently became a personal battlefield. He understands that I need him so he stays a little longer than he should, but eventually has to leave because his life is even busier than mine.
I’m grateful to come home from work after seven hours and wish I could just go to bed, even though I know I won’t get to sleep anytime soon. I do some homework, mostly reading, and after I can’t concentrate anymore I get ready for bed.
After climbing into bed I realize that once again I’ve forgotten to read my scriptures. So I try. They don’t seem to apply to me. It’s like nobody ever took into account that some people in this world just can’t be happy even if they’re doing the best they can to be righteous and obedient. I read one page and realize I have no idea what happened, then try to say my prayers before going to bed. I feel bad for how terribly I read from the Book of Mormon, knowing that something in there would probably help me if I had the motivation and energy to search for it.
I kneel down and stare at the darkness behind my eyelids, but can’t seem to get a thought out of my head and up to Heaven. I don’t know exactly what I’m thinking, but I think if I tried to explain it to Heavenly Father, He would be offended. Either that or I would realize I’m doing something terribly wrong and would have to feel guilty for it. I try to listen for a few minutes to see if the Spirit will attend me in some way so that I can at least give thanks for something. I don’t feel grateful for the day I’ve just had, but I can at least be thankful for a husband who doesn’t question my behavior and tries his hardest to understand me. I don’t feel especially grateful for the gospel, since it doesn’t seem to be helping me at the moment. I suppose I am grateful for my jobs, other than the fact that they make me so busy I don’t have time to do anything that I want to do. The one thing I would like to ask for is to be happy, but that seems like far too monumental a request when I don’t feel that I’m doing enough to deserve it. I try to ask for some sort of peace, but my throat seems to close up a little and I feel tears sneaking up behind my eyes and the thought can’t finish itself, so I end my prayer.
Sometimes I think about asking Jeff for a Priesthood blessing. If I can’t get the Spirit for myself, perhaps he can ask for it in my behalf; perhaps he can get some sort of a message from up above that I can’t seem to wrestle out for myself. But I just had him give me a blessing last week, and though it seemed to help for the night, the main result was me sobbing harder than I had for some time. Having already cried two or three times today, I think I’ll skip that and just try to get this day over with by going to sleep.
That’s a whole new fight in itself, though, and I almost don’t have the energy to try to fight the insomnia that comes along with this ridiculous illness. But I lie there next to Jeff anyway, punishing myself more by turning away from him. I don’t know why I won’t even let myself face him sometimes; perhaps I’m ashamed of everything inside of me that he might see in my eyes or hear in my voice. Perhaps I’ve asked too much of him already today and don’t feel like I can demand any more. I should just let him sleep. When he is asleep I feel alone, wishing I’d let him comfort me once more, for only next to him do I feel any sense of security. When I finally do welcome sleep it’s fitful and not very deep, but at least it’s a respite from the day and I don’t have to try anymore.
When I wake up in the morning, I do a mental check. How do I feel? Is it going to be one of the bad days? Do I feel anything? Sometimes I don’t feel any sort of emotion, but at least that’s better than the overwhelming darkness. On the dark days I try to go back to sleep. That will at least delay the beginning of another day. I wonder why I have to get up when it’s all going to be the same and nothing is going to feel like living is supposed to feel. I try not to think about the negative feelings because I know if I dwell on it too much I’ll start crying. And if I let myself, I can cry for hours.
I know I shouldn’t stay in bed too long, because if my husband comes home from his early morning job he’ll see that it’s a bad morning already and he might ask me about it. I can’t talk about it, because I don’t understand it. When I finally drag myself out of bed, it’s as if I haven’t slept at all, or maybe slept far too long. I feel groggy and miserable, and don’t have the energy to even take a shower. I eventually do though, and maybe I’ll make myself eat some breakfast.
I try to get to my class right on time. I don’t want to be early because then I’ll have to try to look busy so nobody will talk to me. But I don’t want to be late because then everybody will look at me when I walk in. It’s best to blend in with the crowd, and if I can, sit in the corner where it’s safe. It’s hard to concentrate on what the professor is saying, and I tap my pencil and check my watch at least eleven times during the course of the 50-minute class period. Half the time I doodle on my paper and can’t hold my hand still, and half the time I rest my elbows on the desk and my forehead in my hands, trying not to fall asleep and trying to listen.
After class I go to work in one of the computer labs on campus. I’m a writing tutor, so if anybody comes in for help I’ll actually have to talk. Luckily, I won’t have to talk about anything personal or about myself, just about the paper they’ve written and what they could do to improve their writing.
When I first walk in, my fellow tutor and friend greets me with the most sincere “How are you doing?” that I may have ever heard. I almost tell her that the past month has been one day of tears after another and that the person she’s known is not the real me, because we met just a few weeks before I fell into depression. I waver for a moment between the truth and a simple “fine” because she seems like she actually wants to know; in fact, she may even be able to tell that there’s something wrong. I end up telling her I’m okay, but don’t elaborate either way. I try to find something to talk to her about but don’t feel like anything I have to say can relate to the real world and instead sit down at a computer to do my homework.
I read from one of my anthologies of English Literature for about two minutes, get nothing out of it, and log on to the computer. Maybe I’ll check my e-mail, or maybe I’ll do some research for a paper that’s due next week. I do neither, choosing instead to get on the internet and play a mindless game that’s much like dominoes. I do that for about a half an hour, help one person with a paper, and after my hour-long shift I go home for lunch.
At home I almost cry when I can’t find anything that I feel like eating, and I do cry when Jeff comes home and asks if I’m okay. He hugs me for awhile, telling me it’s okay to cry, and asks if he can do anything. Just his being around me and not making me talk is enough, so I lie on the bed curled up beside him as he does homework for an hour. I think about nothing as he lays a hand on my back and occasionally squeezes my arm to let me know he’s still there. I am so grateful for him and wonder how long he’ll be able to put up with me. Sometimes on my sadder days I fear that he will start to wonder why he married me, or at least wonder what happened to the happy girl he did marry. Somewhere inside of me is a logical glimmer of hope that tells me that he didn’t marry me because I’m always happy, that he doesn’t blame me for having depression, and that believing any of these lies is putting him on a level far below the wonderful person he really is. I know that he will never regret marrying me and I know that he will help me and love me always. But sometimes part of me is still afraid and ashamed.
After two more classes I have to get ready to go to work at my second job. I don’t like this one as much as the writing center, but it’s a good job. I work at a Laundromat and dry cleaner, and some days I sit in the office and try to think of what kind of little cleaning task I should take on. As long as I stay busy I feel good, but if I sit around too long I start to feel almost physically ill because my whole body feels so strange from the depression. Once I actually called another girl who works there to see if she could come in and take over for me, but I usually just deal with it. After all, it seems to be my life now. I let myself cry a little bit in the office, but I know that customers could come anytime and I don’t want to look like I’ve been crying. I go out to the Laundromat area and walk around to look for something to do.
After a few hours at work, Jeff comes to bring me some dinner. We sit in the office and eat together and it’s a bright spot in my day. It always cheers me up when he comes to see me at work because I have an ally in this strange world that just recently became a personal battlefield. He understands that I need him so he stays a little longer than he should, but eventually has to leave because his life is even busier than mine.
I’m grateful to come home from work after seven hours and wish I could just go to bed, even though I know I won’t get to sleep anytime soon. I do some homework, mostly reading, and after I can’t concentrate anymore I get ready for bed.
After climbing into bed I realize that once again I’ve forgotten to read my scriptures. So I try. They don’t seem to apply to me. It’s like nobody ever took into account that some people in this world just can’t be happy even if they’re doing the best they can to be righteous and obedient. I read one page and realize I have no idea what happened, then try to say my prayers before going to bed. I feel bad for how terribly I read from the Book of Mormon, knowing that something in there would probably help me if I had the motivation and energy to search for it.
I kneel down and stare at the darkness behind my eyelids, but can’t seem to get a thought out of my head and up to Heaven. I don’t know exactly what I’m thinking, but I think if I tried to explain it to Heavenly Father, He would be offended. Either that or I would realize I’m doing something terribly wrong and would have to feel guilty for it. I try to listen for a few minutes to see if the Spirit will attend me in some way so that I can at least give thanks for something. I don’t feel grateful for the day I’ve just had, but I can at least be thankful for a husband who doesn’t question my behavior and tries his hardest to understand me. I don’t feel especially grateful for the gospel, since it doesn’t seem to be helping me at the moment. I suppose I am grateful for my jobs, other than the fact that they make me so busy I don’t have time to do anything that I want to do. The one thing I would like to ask for is to be happy, but that seems like far too monumental a request when I don’t feel that I’m doing enough to deserve it. I try to ask for some sort of peace, but my throat seems to close up a little and I feel tears sneaking up behind my eyes and the thought can’t finish itself, so I end my prayer.
Sometimes I think about asking Jeff for a Priesthood blessing. If I can’t get the Spirit for myself, perhaps he can ask for it in my behalf; perhaps he can get some sort of a message from up above that I can’t seem to wrestle out for myself. But I just had him give me a blessing last week, and though it seemed to help for the night, the main result was me sobbing harder than I had for some time. Having already cried two or three times today, I think I’ll skip that and just try to get this day over with by going to sleep.
That’s a whole new fight in itself, though, and I almost don’t have the energy to try to fight the insomnia that comes along with this ridiculous illness. But I lie there next to Jeff anyway, punishing myself more by turning away from him. I don’t know why I won’t even let myself face him sometimes; perhaps I’m ashamed of everything inside of me that he might see in my eyes or hear in my voice. Perhaps I’ve asked too much of him already today and don’t feel like I can demand any more. I should just let him sleep. When he is asleep I feel alone, wishing I’d let him comfort me once more, for only next to him do I feel any sense of security. When I finally do welcome sleep it’s fitful and not very deep, but at least it’s a respite from the day and I don’t have to try anymore.
Sunday
Every day wasn’t quite this bad for me, but some days were worse. I hated Sundays. At every other time in my life, Sundays have been a welcome reprieve from the week, a wonderful reason to relax and truly let myself feel the Spirit. Feeling devoid of the Spirit, however, Sundays during my worst depressive episode tended to drag me down. I felt they were a reminder of my failure to be happy. I seemed to zero in on the countless times I heard from the pulpit, “If we’ll keep the commandments, we’ll be happy.” I could not reconcile the two facts. I knew the gospel was true; I have never doubted that, even on my worst days. But I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong to stop the good news from working for me.
On Sundays we would walk into church and sit on one of the shorter pews on the side. I never let Jeff have the corner; I had to be right next to the wall. The more he could shield me from whatever it was I feared, the better. I still enjoyed the Hymns, and many of them were a source of comfort for me. Songs like “Be Still My Soul,” “Where Can I Turn for Peace?,” and “Abide With Me” spoke to my soul more deeply at this time in my life than ever before, and I felt like somebody must understand that life was hard and that it was okay to be sorrowful at times.
In the halls I was never sure whether or not I wanted to talk to people. Certain people could make me forget myself and come into the land of the living a little more, while talking to others made me wish I could hide. I dreaded the question, “how are you?” because for some reason I just didn’t know how to answer it. Do I tell them I’m fine? That would be a lie. Do I tell them I’ve had better days and make them wonder what’s wrong with me? That would start too many questions. Part of me wished that people could just know that I was depressed, but I simply did not want anybody’s pity. I didn’t want people to think I was weird or weak, and I didn’t want to explain it because it didn’t make sense. So in the end I would settle on telling people that I was fine, even though this was the least fine I had ever felt in my life.
In Sunday School I would sit next to Jeff and he would find it interesting that I couldn’t seem to control my hands. Sometimes I would get up and leave for awhile to get my jitters out, and other times they came out on paper. One week I filled a whole sheet of paper with random words that the teacher said; other times I’d just doodle. It was only recently that I read that these are actually symptoms of depression in some people—called psychomotor agitation. My social anxiety would again manifest itself in Relief Society, when I wanted to be invisible in a corner, yet longed for someone to notice me.
On Sundays we would walk into church and sit on one of the shorter pews on the side. I never let Jeff have the corner; I had to be right next to the wall. The more he could shield me from whatever it was I feared, the better. I still enjoyed the Hymns, and many of them were a source of comfort for me. Songs like “Be Still My Soul,” “Where Can I Turn for Peace?,” and “Abide With Me” spoke to my soul more deeply at this time in my life than ever before, and I felt like somebody must understand that life was hard and that it was okay to be sorrowful at times.
In the halls I was never sure whether or not I wanted to talk to people. Certain people could make me forget myself and come into the land of the living a little more, while talking to others made me wish I could hide. I dreaded the question, “how are you?” because for some reason I just didn’t know how to answer it. Do I tell them I’m fine? That would be a lie. Do I tell them I’ve had better days and make them wonder what’s wrong with me? That would start too many questions. Part of me wished that people could just know that I was depressed, but I simply did not want anybody’s pity. I didn’t want people to think I was weird or weak, and I didn’t want to explain it because it didn’t make sense. So in the end I would settle on telling people that I was fine, even though this was the least fine I had ever felt in my life.
In Sunday School I would sit next to Jeff and he would find it interesting that I couldn’t seem to control my hands. Sometimes I would get up and leave for awhile to get my jitters out, and other times they came out on paper. One week I filled a whole sheet of paper with random words that the teacher said; other times I’d just doodle. It was only recently that I read that these are actually symptoms of depression in some people—called psychomotor agitation. My social anxiety would again manifest itself in Relief Society, when I wanted to be invisible in a corner, yet longed for someone to notice me.
Finding a Way Out
One day Jeff asked if I had ever considered going to a counselor. I didn’t really like the idea of it at first, and he didn’t expect anything to come of the suggestion either. However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that maybe that was just what I needed. Perhaps a therapist could validate my feelings, give me suggestions, or help me in some permanent way. I don’t know what I expected, but I decided that it might be a good idea.
I made an appointment to see the counselor in the University Wellness Center. The first time I went in, Jeff came with me for moral support, and to see what it was like. The counselor basically started by getting an idea of when my depression started, if it had happened before, and how bad it was now. In sessions after that, which I believe were every two weeks, I talked some about how it felt, I told him things I’d written about it, and he helped by giving feedback on how it sounded like I felt.
The counselor did help me in some ways. He pointed out a few things such as the immense guilt I was feeling for my depression. Everything I wrote contained some sort of apology to somebody, stating that it was completely my fault and that I felt bad for the people around me. He showed me that in certain areas of my life I was so afraid of what others wanted or expected me to do that I wasn’t letting myself do what I wanted to do. I’m sure all these things contributed to the depression, and it was good to know that at least some of the negative thoughts I was having were not true.
Eventually, we decided that since there really wasn’t any traumatic experience in either my recent or distant past that would have caused my depression, and since others in my family had it, there might not be much I could ever do about it as far as therapy went. He recommended that I get a prescription for an anti-depressant, and sent me to a nurse who prescribed me with Zoloft. I was extremely grateful when I started to take it. It worked very well and I hardly ever felt bad. On the days I’d feel depressed, Jeff would again have to remind me that it was normal; we all have our days.
The Zoloft had a few side effects on me. I often had bad dreams, angry dreams. It was as if all of my negative emotions came out in my sleep; I’d be screaming and yelling at people, and they may have been violent at times. During the day I could feel when the medicine was suppressing negative feelings. While watching sad movies I didn’t feel like I could cry like I normally would, and sometimes I wanted to. There were only a couple of physical side effects, such as yawning over and over when I wasn’t even tired, and a little bit of nausea in the beginning.
Sometimes I felt a little embarrassed or guilty for taking the medicine—I certainly didn’t want to tell anybody—but for the most part, I was grateful. I was so grateful to feel happy and normal. I was grateful to see the world in a positive light again. I was grateful to feel like I was a part of the world, that I had a place and I belonged with other people. I felt that I had gotten my life back, and that I finally was seeing the morning dawn after a very dark, very long night.
I will now always have the ability to be grateful for things like that. I can honestly thank my Heavenly Father every day that I am feeling happy. I can be thankful for the world, for my happy feelings, for my ability to even be grateful. This may be the greatest gift that depression has given me. One day will be rough, but the next day I can be so happy that those bad feelings are gone again. I understand so much more keenly than ever before the concept of opposition in all things. The sweet is now so much sweeter.
Since then, I have focused a lot of scripture study on finding out just how I can look at depression from a gospel point of view. I always know depression will come back, and I want to be ready for it. I also want to know what to say to other people who are depressed. I want to arm myself with knowledge and the Spirit, so that next time, perhaps I won’t have to go to a counselor or take medication. Maybe the gospel can be enough.
I made an appointment to see the counselor in the University Wellness Center. The first time I went in, Jeff came with me for moral support, and to see what it was like. The counselor basically started by getting an idea of when my depression started, if it had happened before, and how bad it was now. In sessions after that, which I believe were every two weeks, I talked some about how it felt, I told him things I’d written about it, and he helped by giving feedback on how it sounded like I felt.
The counselor did help me in some ways. He pointed out a few things such as the immense guilt I was feeling for my depression. Everything I wrote contained some sort of apology to somebody, stating that it was completely my fault and that I felt bad for the people around me. He showed me that in certain areas of my life I was so afraid of what others wanted or expected me to do that I wasn’t letting myself do what I wanted to do. I’m sure all these things contributed to the depression, and it was good to know that at least some of the negative thoughts I was having were not true.
Eventually, we decided that since there really wasn’t any traumatic experience in either my recent or distant past that would have caused my depression, and since others in my family had it, there might not be much I could ever do about it as far as therapy went. He recommended that I get a prescription for an anti-depressant, and sent me to a nurse who prescribed me with Zoloft. I was extremely grateful when I started to take it. It worked very well and I hardly ever felt bad. On the days I’d feel depressed, Jeff would again have to remind me that it was normal; we all have our days.
The Zoloft had a few side effects on me. I often had bad dreams, angry dreams. It was as if all of my negative emotions came out in my sleep; I’d be screaming and yelling at people, and they may have been violent at times. During the day I could feel when the medicine was suppressing negative feelings. While watching sad movies I didn’t feel like I could cry like I normally would, and sometimes I wanted to. There were only a couple of physical side effects, such as yawning over and over when I wasn’t even tired, and a little bit of nausea in the beginning.
Sometimes I felt a little embarrassed or guilty for taking the medicine—I certainly didn’t want to tell anybody—but for the most part, I was grateful. I was so grateful to feel happy and normal. I was grateful to see the world in a positive light again. I was grateful to feel like I was a part of the world, that I had a place and I belonged with other people. I felt that I had gotten my life back, and that I finally was seeing the morning dawn after a very dark, very long night.
I will now always have the ability to be grateful for things like that. I can honestly thank my Heavenly Father every day that I am feeling happy. I can be thankful for the world, for my happy feelings, for my ability to even be grateful. This may be the greatest gift that depression has given me. One day will be rough, but the next day I can be so happy that those bad feelings are gone again. I understand so much more keenly than ever before the concept of opposition in all things. The sweet is now so much sweeter.
Since then, I have focused a lot of scripture study on finding out just how I can look at depression from a gospel point of view. I always know depression will come back, and I want to be ready for it. I also want to know what to say to other people who are depressed. I want to arm myself with knowledge and the Spirit, so that next time, perhaps I won’t have to go to a counselor or take medication. Maybe the gospel can be enough.
(Chapter 2) What Can I Do Today?
Dealing with any mental illness is a day-to-day chore. Recovering can take months or years, and often requires therapy and/or medication. But taking any drastic steps toward recovery may seem like such a leap that you will never even try. A race is not run in one step, and we don’t often change our lives in one instant. Every day you can do something to help yourself feel a little better, a little more normal. The following is a list of suggestions that I have found helpful for myself, that others have said have helped them, and that professionals suggest.
*Get out of bed. “You may feel like spending all day in bed, but do not. While a change in the duration, quality and timing of sleep is a core feature of depression, a reversal in sleep cycle (such as sleeping during daytime hours and staying awake at night) can prolong recovery. Give significant others permission to wake you up in the morning. Schedule "appointments" that force you to get out of the house before 11 a.m. Do this scheduling the night before; waiting until the morning to decide what you will be doing ensures you will do nothing.”[1]
*Go outside: the sun is good for you. Your body needs certain vitamins that are best derived from the sun, and exposure to the sun helps your brain’s internal clock reset itself and release mood-influencing substances[2].
*Exercise: go for a walk, go jogging, play tennis, basketball, soccer, tag with your kids, swimming, weight lifting, aerobics, anything that you enjoy doing. Exercising releases chemicals from your brain called endorphins, which enhance your mood and cause “natural highs.”
*Focus on the good things you do. Don’t expect too much of yourself too soon.
*Recognize the fallacies in your thinking; learn to say, “that’s just the depression talking. I know it’s not true.”
*Have regular conversations with people—ask about their lives.
*Make a list of people to call and call them.
*Make a list of things you like to do and go do them. “Try exercising, going to a movie or a ball game, or participating in religious or social activities. At a minimum, such activities may distract you from the way you feel and allow the day to pass more quickly.”[3]
*If you’re at home a lot, go visit someone—get out of the house, go get some ice cream, go to the park.
*Pay attention to what and how much you eat so you can monitor it. Eating too much and too little are both symptoms of depression. Healthy foods have chemicals that improve moods, while junk foods can worsen mood.
*Sleep when you’re tired. If you suffer from insomnia, try taking a warm bath or sipping something warm; sleep on your back; exercise a few hours before bed; don’t eat right before bed.
*Let your spouse get close to you—don’t separate yourself or hide; allow physical affection. Try to let them know how you feel.
*Meditating, writing down feelings—this can be cathartic and clear your head, but it could also make you feel worse; pay attention and don’t do it if it doesn’t help!
*Tell your family how they can help you, if you know—they can learn not to ask what’s wrong if you’ll communicate
*Tell yourself it’s not your fault, and keep telling yourself until you believe it.
*Do what you have to do: do the dishes, make the bed, go to the bank, pick up the kids, wash the car, etc.
*Find small acts of kindness you can do for others (service doesn’t have to be some big production to help you feel happy).
*Get a priesthood blessing.
*EVERYBODY needs at least one person who is close to them who knows that they are depressed. You have to have support. Really your whole family should know—at least everyone you live with—but if you don’t want people to know about it, at least your spouse or parent should know. It makes such a difference to not feel like you have to hide from everybody. *Smile at yourself in the mirror—smile even with your eyes. It sounds strange, but seeing yourself happy or pretending you’re happy can help. “One day I just decided to pretend that I was happy. When I would want to be sad or feel bad about something I just faked it. I pretended that I was a happy guy and eventually I began to believe that I was really happy and that it wasn’t just me pretending and eventually I didn’t have to pretend anymore” (Jared, 26).
In addition to these suggestions of what to do, I would advise a few things not to do. Don’t do things you know will make it worse. Don’t sit and think about your feelings if it just multiplies them. “I avoid thinking for longer than a couple minutes about myself or more specifically about how I feel that day” (Candice, 19). On the other hand, however, if it is calming or cathartic in some way to analyze and sort out those feelings, do it. Do what works. Don’t take a nap if you know you’ll feel even more down when you wake up. Try not to be alone often for long periods of time if it’s depressing to you, as it is for most people. Do things that you know will help. If writing down your feelings helps you feel better, then do it. If not, don’t. Don’t feel that you have to do something that other people suggest if you know it doesn’t work for you. But always be willing to try something new. You never know what will end up being one of your saving graces.
President Ezra Taft Benson gave a talk[4] in 1974 on ways to avoid and deal with discouragement and depression. Because I didn’t spend a lot of time searching, it was really the only gospel material I found at the time I was actually depressed. In his talk, entitled “Do Not Despair,” he gives twelve suggestions which he promises “will lift our spirits and send us on our way rejoicing.” These twelve ways are: repentance, prayer, service, work, health, reading, blessing, fasting, friends, music, endurance, and goals. Each one of these requires us to act. We must do something. I firmly believe that these are principles that will help us in our times of trial. The ones that have helped me the most are service and friends, and, as I discuss elsewhere, prayer and endurance.
Since having Emma, I have found that service is quite a bit easier to come by as a mother than ever before. It requires that I be here for her constantly, that I stop thinking about myself and tend to her needs. Playing with her can truly make me happy if I let it. Comforting her can comfort me. Another mother told me, “As it progressed, my only light was my daughter. I absolutely know that I would have committed suicide when I was in the depths of it all, except that I didn't want her to feel abandoned and have to go through life feeling the way I did.” Focusing on another soul saved this woman when she felt all other hope was gone. President Benson says, “A woman whose life is involved in the righteous rearing of her children has a better chance of keeping up her spirits than the woman whose total concern is centered in her own personal problems.” This is not to say that mothers will not get depressed, because many will. It also does not mean that mothers who do get depressed are not doing what they should be doing. It simply means that if we will try our hardest to devote our efforts toward serving others, it can help us if we will be open to the positive feelings that can accompany it.
Getting out of the house, helping others, going outside yourself, thinking about the needs of others—these are powerful tools in forgetting our difficulties. When I was severely depressed, one of the worst things I could do was to sit around doing nothing and wallow in my dark feelings. One of the best things I could do for myself was to go to my friends’ house. Though I never told them that I was there for my own comfort, it helped tremendously. We didn’t necessarily talk about anything important; sometimes we all just watched TV. But being around people who were feeling carefree and happy, and who included me in this, was very healing.
Recently I was having one of those bad days that tend to frighten me a little more than they would have had I never suffered from major depression. Jeff called from work and could hear the sadness in my voice. He asked what was wrong and I started crying, told him I didn’t know, and got off the phone as soon as he’d let me. Ten minutes later he was home, insisting that I get out of the house. He dropped me off, along with Emma, at my sister’s house and the rest of my day was just fine. Simply being around her and her children, talking about everyday things and not feeling bad for myself anymore made all the difference. Jeff knew that and made me take action on it, and that made all the difference. I used to have a list of people to call when I was depressed, comprised mainly of family members. I knew that when I was feeling particularly down I wouldn’t be able to think of somebody off the top of my head who would be able to help or who would actually like to hear from me, so I made a list of people to call, along with their phone numbers. I even wrote a note to myself on the list, which reminded me that they loved me and wanted to hear from me, in the hopes that this would boost my motivation to actually make the call. It was difficult to convince myself that I didn’t need to give them an excuse for me calling, that they would actually like to hear from me for no reason. Sometimes when I called I would tell them why; other times I’d just chat with them to make me feel a little more normal. Small things like this could make me feel like I was part of the world, a normal person in society again.
[1] “Tips for Managing Your Depression” Josepha Cheong, M.D., Michael Herkov, Ph.D., and Wayne Goodman, M.D. 20 Nov 2000. http://psychcentral.com/library/depression_manage.htm
[2] “Mood-Boosting Sunlight,” Consumer Reports on Health Vol. 16 Issue 10, p12
[3] “Tips for Managing Your Depression”
[4] Ezra Taft Benson, “Do Not Despair,” Ensign, November 1974, 65.
Growing Pains
Anyone who has ever tried to get in shape knows that we do not get any closer to our goals without pushing ourselves. It is by moving one step farther than we know we can that we grow stronger.
This principle applies just as well to our emotional and spiritual growth day to day. When depressed, I try to make myself do just a little more than I feel I can do. If I feel that I can do the dishes but that’s all, I try to do the dishes and then sweep the kitchen floor as well. If I feel like I can only read five verses of scripture, I might make myself read the whole chapter. This little extra will help me feel normal again. Doing a little more will remind me that I am stronger than I think, and will help me feel better about myself. I have learned not to wait until I feel like doing something, since I will never feel like doing it. In The Feeling Good Handbook, Dr. David D. Burns, M.D., explains this principle: “People who are extremely successful know that motivation doesn’t come first—productive action does. You have to prime the pump by getting started whether you feel like it or not. Once you begin to accomplish something, it will often spur you on to do even more.” With any job, he says, “Once you get started, it usually turns out to be far less horrible than you had imagined, and you feel more like doing it. […] The message is simple: the more you do, the more you’ll feel like doing; but doing something comes first!”[1] Since reading this insight, I have found that as I sit staring at the dishes, if I will say to myself, “action first, then motivation,” I will get up and start.
At the same time, we cannot expect too much of ourselves. Don’t compare yourself now to how you were pre-depression; that will only make you feel guiltier and drive you deeper down. Make your goals reachable so that there will be something to celebrate. Allow yourself to be proud of the small things. When you get up in the morning and get ready for the day, tell yourself “good job.” It may seem silly, but if that’s more than you thought you could do, it was worth the effort.
Jared shared with me his experience with setting goals: “After I attempted suicide, moving back home [from college] was a big help, but just being there wasn’t enough. I had to have a goal, something to reach for, and it had to be something that I set for myself. No one could tell me what kind of goal or that I even needed to have a goal. So I found something that I had always wanted to do, and that was to play the saxophone. I didn’t do very well; I went to a few lessons and I practiced as much as I could when no one was home because I felt so weird about it. I was 21, for crying out loud. It helped me some to work on it and see that I was making some progress. I had to give it up when I [went back to school]. But it made a difference. Especially that my parents were willing to let me try it and foot the bill. I don’t think they know how much it helped me to know that they were backing me.”
As you put one foot in front of the other each day, as you push yourself just a little beyond what you believe you can do, that will make all the difference. Stepping up your emotional workout will strengthen your ability to cope with the world. It has to feel a little bit harder than you’re used to; the pain is making you stronger, and that’s how you know you’re changing.
Alma tells his son, “Teach them to never be weary of good works, but to be meek and lowly in heart; for such shall find rest to their souls” (Alma 37:34). After tiring yourself out by putting forth your best effort, the rest you receive will be far greater than the rest you receive by simply not trying in the first place, for it will be rest to your soul. Heavenly Father will let you know that He is proud of you, and perhaps you will be able to feel proud of yourself.
[1] Burns, David D. The Feeling Good Handbook. New York: Penguin Group, 1999, 170.
This principle applies just as well to our emotional and spiritual growth day to day. When depressed, I try to make myself do just a little more than I feel I can do. If I feel that I can do the dishes but that’s all, I try to do the dishes and then sweep the kitchen floor as well. If I feel like I can only read five verses of scripture, I might make myself read the whole chapter. This little extra will help me feel normal again. Doing a little more will remind me that I am stronger than I think, and will help me feel better about myself. I have learned not to wait until I feel like doing something, since I will never feel like doing it. In The Feeling Good Handbook, Dr. David D. Burns, M.D., explains this principle: “People who are extremely successful know that motivation doesn’t come first—productive action does. You have to prime the pump by getting started whether you feel like it or not. Once you begin to accomplish something, it will often spur you on to do even more.” With any job, he says, “Once you get started, it usually turns out to be far less horrible than you had imagined, and you feel more like doing it. […] The message is simple: the more you do, the more you’ll feel like doing; but doing something comes first!”[1] Since reading this insight, I have found that as I sit staring at the dishes, if I will say to myself, “action first, then motivation,” I will get up and start.
At the same time, we cannot expect too much of ourselves. Don’t compare yourself now to how you were pre-depression; that will only make you feel guiltier and drive you deeper down. Make your goals reachable so that there will be something to celebrate. Allow yourself to be proud of the small things. When you get up in the morning and get ready for the day, tell yourself “good job.” It may seem silly, but if that’s more than you thought you could do, it was worth the effort.
Jared shared with me his experience with setting goals: “After I attempted suicide, moving back home [from college] was a big help, but just being there wasn’t enough. I had to have a goal, something to reach for, and it had to be something that I set for myself. No one could tell me what kind of goal or that I even needed to have a goal. So I found something that I had always wanted to do, and that was to play the saxophone. I didn’t do very well; I went to a few lessons and I practiced as much as I could when no one was home because I felt so weird about it. I was 21, for crying out loud. It helped me some to work on it and see that I was making some progress. I had to give it up when I [went back to school]. But it made a difference. Especially that my parents were willing to let me try it and foot the bill. I don’t think they know how much it helped me to know that they were backing me.”
As you put one foot in front of the other each day, as you push yourself just a little beyond what you believe you can do, that will make all the difference. Stepping up your emotional workout will strengthen your ability to cope with the world. It has to feel a little bit harder than you’re used to; the pain is making you stronger, and that’s how you know you’re changing.
Alma tells his son, “Teach them to never be weary of good works, but to be meek and lowly in heart; for such shall find rest to their souls” (Alma 37:34). After tiring yourself out by putting forth your best effort, the rest you receive will be far greater than the rest you receive by simply not trying in the first place, for it will be rest to your soul. Heavenly Father will let you know that He is proud of you, and perhaps you will be able to feel proud of yourself.
[1] Burns, David D. The Feeling Good Handbook. New York: Penguin Group, 1999, 170.
What if I Just Can't?
Some people have depression so severe that they literally can’t get out of bed. Just being around another person is almost unbearable; scriptures and prayer only cause more guilt; going to church is simply impossible. I have never experienced quite this degree of depression, but I know that others do. Many people cannot imagine that it actually exists, and they ask, can’t a person always at least try? I don’t have all the answers, but a few things I do know. Many good people and good members of the church experience this illness to this unbearable degree. It is not their fault, and they are still good people. For them, trying may mean deciding that they are going to keep existing. Trying is deciding that they will not turn their back on God, even when it seems that He is failing them. Trying means hanging on and waiting for it to get better, because they remember that it has gotten better before.
Depression is a medical illness. We cannot just decide to get better. When you’re sick, often you have to stay in bed. Sometimes you have to miss work or church. This is true with severe cases of depression. You cannot do the things you normally do, and that does not make you a bad person. This is my first suggestion: refuse to feel guilty for the illness. You didn’t decide to be depressed. The Lord doesn’t expect you to do as much as you usually do; He expects the best that you can do right now, with the situation He’s given you. That is different for every person, but there is no need to feel guilty about not being happy. If you decide that there are things you really can’t do, then let them go and don’t feel guilty about it. Lighten up on yourself. “For it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize” (Mosiah 4:27). Do what you have strength to do.
Sometimes we think that the gospel must apply to everything but depression. This is simply not true. Though we struggle to see how the gospel or the atonement can help us, the Lord knew every trial that every person would go through before this all began. We have been told countless times that in our deepest despair we must turn to the Lord and trust in His promises. And if it just doesn’t seem to work? Well, then, we wait. That is my second suggestion: know that it will get better, and just wait it out.
I am reminded of Joseph Smith’s account of the darkness that overpowered him just before the first vision: “I was seized upon by some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden destruction.
“But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me out of the power of this enemy which had seized upon me, and at the very moment when I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction—not to an imaginary ruin, but to the power of some actual being from the unseen world, who had such marvelous power as I had never before felt in any being—just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light” (Joseph Smith—History 1:15-16).
God will never allow us to be taken beyond what we are able to bear. He will only let us go so far, and then He will pull us back, at the very moment we need it. So often, with this in mind, we think, “OK, this will be the last day, because I know that I can go no further. I’m done; I can’t live with this anymore.” But it continues, for weeks or months longer than we feel we can stand. It means that the Lord is there, saying, “yes, you can.” We have to keep trusting him, because if we don’t we are cutting off our one possible source of comfort—the one person who has any hope of helping us.
Depression is a medical illness. We cannot just decide to get better. When you’re sick, often you have to stay in bed. Sometimes you have to miss work or church. This is true with severe cases of depression. You cannot do the things you normally do, and that does not make you a bad person. This is my first suggestion: refuse to feel guilty for the illness. You didn’t decide to be depressed. The Lord doesn’t expect you to do as much as you usually do; He expects the best that you can do right now, with the situation He’s given you. That is different for every person, but there is no need to feel guilty about not being happy. If you decide that there are things you really can’t do, then let them go and don’t feel guilty about it. Lighten up on yourself. “For it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize” (Mosiah 4:27). Do what you have strength to do.
Sometimes we think that the gospel must apply to everything but depression. This is simply not true. Though we struggle to see how the gospel or the atonement can help us, the Lord knew every trial that every person would go through before this all began. We have been told countless times that in our deepest despair we must turn to the Lord and trust in His promises. And if it just doesn’t seem to work? Well, then, we wait. That is my second suggestion: know that it will get better, and just wait it out.
I am reminded of Joseph Smith’s account of the darkness that overpowered him just before the first vision: “I was seized upon by some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden destruction.
“But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me out of the power of this enemy which had seized upon me, and at the very moment when I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction—not to an imaginary ruin, but to the power of some actual being from the unseen world, who had such marvelous power as I had never before felt in any being—just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light” (Joseph Smith—History 1:15-16).
God will never allow us to be taken beyond what we are able to bear. He will only let us go so far, and then He will pull us back, at the very moment we need it. So often, with this in mind, we think, “OK, this will be the last day, because I know that I can go no further. I’m done; I can’t live with this anymore.” But it continues, for weeks or months longer than we feel we can stand. It means that the Lord is there, saying, “yes, you can.” We have to keep trusting him, because if we don’t we are cutting off our one possible source of comfort—the one person who has any hope of helping us.
(Chapter 3) Getting Help
Depression is an illness, just as cancer is an illness. If I found out I had cancer, I would study up on it and find a specialist. I would want whatever professional help was available. Depression can also be compared to bad eyesight: it clouds our vision, and we do not see things the way they truly are. I have bad eyesight, so I wear contacts to correct it. Many people see depression medication in this same way.
However, depression is unique, being a physical ailment that affects our emotional and spiritual well-being. We must be careful in choosing how we go about treating it. First and foremost must be the gospel approach. “Do you—or someone you love—face disease or depression or death?” asks Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. “Whatever other steps you may need to take to resolve these concerns, come first to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Trust in heaven’s promises.”[1] After we are centered on the gospel, we can better assess our needs and the proper use of further professional help. Elder Boyd K. Packer has issued the following warning:
If you find a case where professional help is justified, be very careful.
There are some spiritually destructive techniques used in the field of counseling. When you entrust your members to others, do not let them be subject to these things. Solve problems in the Lord’s way.
Some counselors want to delve deeper than is emotionally or spiritually healthy. They sometimes want to draw out and analyze and take apart and dissect.
While a certain amount of catharsis may be healthy, overmuch of it can be degenerating. It is seldom as easy to put something back together as it is to take it apart.
By probing too deeply, or talking endlessly about some problems, we can foolishly cause the very thing we are trying to prevent.[…]
We live in a day when the adversary stresses on every hand the philosophy of instant gratification. We seem to demand instant everything, including instant solutions to our problems.
We are indoctrinated that somehow we should always by instantly emotionally comfortable. When that is not so, some become anxious—and all too frequently seek relief from counseling, from analysis, and even from medication.
It was meant to be that life would be a challenge. To suffer some anxiety, some depression, some disappointment, even some failure is normal.
Teach our members that if they have a good, miserable day once in a while, or several in a row, to stand steady and face them. Things will straighten out.
There is great purpose in our struggle in life.[2]
I believe we must find a balance in the way we see mental illness and its treatment. It can be tricky and controversial because it is physical, yet affects our spiritual well-being. Many people subscribe to the viewpoint that the gospel will be enough. A friend of mine once told me that she knows Christ can heal her, and that she just has to figure out how to get to that point. Another friend figures that his depression is a part of him and something he needs to deal with on his own. I believe that isolating ourselves won't help, that we can and should utilize all resources available to us, and that we all need to find our own balance prayerfully and carefully.
[1] Jeffrey R. Holland, “Broken Things to Mend,” Ensign, May 2006, 69.
[2] Boyd K. Packer, “Solving Emotional Problems in the Lord’s Own Way,” Ensign, May 1978, 91
However, depression is unique, being a physical ailment that affects our emotional and spiritual well-being. We must be careful in choosing how we go about treating it. First and foremost must be the gospel approach. “Do you—or someone you love—face disease or depression or death?” asks Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. “Whatever other steps you may need to take to resolve these concerns, come first to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Trust in heaven’s promises.”[1] After we are centered on the gospel, we can better assess our needs and the proper use of further professional help. Elder Boyd K. Packer has issued the following warning:
If you find a case where professional help is justified, be very careful.
There are some spiritually destructive techniques used in the field of counseling. When you entrust your members to others, do not let them be subject to these things. Solve problems in the Lord’s way.
Some counselors want to delve deeper than is emotionally or spiritually healthy. They sometimes want to draw out and analyze and take apart and dissect.
While a certain amount of catharsis may be healthy, overmuch of it can be degenerating. It is seldom as easy to put something back together as it is to take it apart.
By probing too deeply, or talking endlessly about some problems, we can foolishly cause the very thing we are trying to prevent.[…]
We live in a day when the adversary stresses on every hand the philosophy of instant gratification. We seem to demand instant everything, including instant solutions to our problems.
We are indoctrinated that somehow we should always by instantly emotionally comfortable. When that is not so, some become anxious—and all too frequently seek relief from counseling, from analysis, and even from medication.
It was meant to be that life would be a challenge. To suffer some anxiety, some depression, some disappointment, even some failure is normal.
Teach our members that if they have a good, miserable day once in a while, or several in a row, to stand steady and face them. Things will straighten out.
There is great purpose in our struggle in life.[2]
I believe we must find a balance in the way we see mental illness and its treatment. It can be tricky and controversial because it is physical, yet affects our spiritual well-being. Many people subscribe to the viewpoint that the gospel will be enough. A friend of mine once told me that she knows Christ can heal her, and that she just has to figure out how to get to that point. Another friend figures that his depression is a part of him and something he needs to deal with on his own. I believe that isolating ourselves won't help, that we can and should utilize all resources available to us, and that we all need to find our own balance prayerfully and carefully.
[1] Jeffrey R. Holland, “Broken Things to Mend,” Ensign, May 2006, 69.
[2] Boyd K. Packer, “Solving Emotional Problems in the Lord’s Own Way,” Ensign, May 1978, 91
Therapists
Two individuals who may help you in deciding about seeing a professional are your bishop and your doctor. A bishop may recommend you to LDS Family Services, and they in turn will be able to counsel you from a gospel perspective. A doctor can recommend other types of professionals, all of whom will approach your problem in their own unique way. Some examples are:
Cognitive-behavioral therapy: this focuses on the internal dialog inside a person’s head and what he or she can do to change the fallacies in thinking. This approach does not focus on why a person is feeling the way they are, but rather on what they can do about it. This is, in my opinion, the type of therapy most helpful for depression victims. At least two of my own family members have gone through it, and said “it helped me a WHOLE lot” and “I often refer back to what I learned in therapy in my head”. For those interested in cognitive-behavioral therapy, I would recommend The Feeling Good Handbook by Dr. David D. Burns.
Interpersonal therapy: this focuses on a person’s relationships with others and how they affect one’s feelings. The idea is that improving social support and relationships will improve the person’s emotional well-being.
Psychoanalysis: this is the type of therapy that focuses on one’s past and on the causes of depression. It does not currently have much research supporting it, and it is probably what Elder Packer’s warning is about; it can be so much about digging too deep and placing blame that I do not believe it is a healthy way to go about dealing with depression.
It is also helpful to understand the differences in degrees and education between mental health professionals:
A Psychologist with a Ph.D. has a research degree in clinical or counseling psychology. This is the traditional degree for psychologists and takes 6-7 years.
A Psychologist with a Psy.D. has a professional degree in clinical psychology, which focuses more on practice than on research. It also takes 6-7 years to obtain.
A Counselor or Therapist has a Master’s degree in Clinical or Counseling Psychology, which takes 2 years to obtain. They are trained in psychotherapy techniques, but not much in assessment, theory, or research.
A Social Worker may have a Master’s or Ph.D. in social work. Social Workers are trained in psychotherapy technique like counselors, but with an emphasis on integrating people within community resources.[1]
If you do choose to see a Therapist, be aware of their viewpoints and what they emphasize. If you disagree with them, don’t connect with them, or don’t feel that they are helping, let them know. If it doesn’t work out, try someone new. They certainly are not all the same.
A doctor may also prescribe an antidepressant right away, if together you decide that your depression is severe enough to require that kind of immediate attention.
[1] Taken from John M. Grohol, Psy.D. http://psychcentral.com/disorders/sx22t.htm#psych
Cognitive-behavioral therapy: this focuses on the internal dialog inside a person’s head and what he or she can do to change the fallacies in thinking. This approach does not focus on why a person is feeling the way they are, but rather on what they can do about it. This is, in my opinion, the type of therapy most helpful for depression victims. At least two of my own family members have gone through it, and said “it helped me a WHOLE lot” and “I often refer back to what I learned in therapy in my head”. For those interested in cognitive-behavioral therapy, I would recommend The Feeling Good Handbook by Dr. David D. Burns.
Interpersonal therapy: this focuses on a person’s relationships with others and how they affect one’s feelings. The idea is that improving social support and relationships will improve the person’s emotional well-being.
Psychoanalysis: this is the type of therapy that focuses on one’s past and on the causes of depression. It does not currently have much research supporting it, and it is probably what Elder Packer’s warning is about; it can be so much about digging too deep and placing blame that I do not believe it is a healthy way to go about dealing with depression.
It is also helpful to understand the differences in degrees and education between mental health professionals:
A Psychologist with a Ph.D. has a research degree in clinical or counseling psychology. This is the traditional degree for psychologists and takes 6-7 years.
A Psychologist with a Psy.D. has a professional degree in clinical psychology, which focuses more on practice than on research. It also takes 6-7 years to obtain.
A Counselor or Therapist has a Master’s degree in Clinical or Counseling Psychology, which takes 2 years to obtain. They are trained in psychotherapy techniques, but not much in assessment, theory, or research.
A Social Worker may have a Master’s or Ph.D. in social work. Social Workers are trained in psychotherapy technique like counselors, but with an emphasis on integrating people within community resources.[1]
If you do choose to see a Therapist, be aware of their viewpoints and what they emphasize. If you disagree with them, don’t connect with them, or don’t feel that they are helping, let them know. If it doesn’t work out, try someone new. They certainly are not all the same.
A doctor may also prescribe an antidepressant right away, if together you decide that your depression is severe enough to require that kind of immediate attention.
[1] Taken from John M. Grohol, Psy.D. http://psychcentral.com/disorders/sx22t.htm#psych
Medication
There are several types of antidepressants available, each of which functions in its own way. In general, they work to balance the chemicals in the brain, specifically the “feel good” ones such as serotonin and dopamine. The four main types are: MAOIs (monoamine oxidase inhibitors, used for “atypical” depression), SSRIs (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors, such as Zoloft and Prozac, which affect seratonin), Tricyclics (more commonly used for major depression than MAOIs), and newer antidepressants such as Wellbutrin, which affect norepinephrine and dopamine more than serotonin.
Because depression is not completely understood, most medications are still fairly experimental, and new discoveries are always being made. Much caution must be taken with any antidepressant because they are all still very new. I would advise anybody considering this option to do some research and ask a doctor about options. New medications are constantly being developed. This is a good sign, in that it is progress, but we must be careful because all future side effects may not be known, even when a medication is deemed safe. Weighing the risks and benefits is up to each patient individually. Many patients find that they need to try a few medications before finding one that works for them.
Some patients need only take an antidepressant for a short amount of time for it to rebalance them. Others find that they need to stay on it indefinitely.
There are myriad opinions regarding the use of medications and therapy, as demonstrated in the following quotes:
“Therapy works if you are willing to be brutally honest. Most people who are depressed, I believe, aren't willing or able to be. Going through the motions of therapy finally brought me to the point of being willing to be honest with my life and myself.
“I think meds are a necessary evil. I think there must be better ways out there…but I also don't know much about it. I think there must be a more holistic approach. Meds often cause more problems than they help. Coming off them is so emotionally dangerous, and I, as many people do, decided many times to just take myself off them without supervision. It always seems logical at the time.”
“I think it’s preferable to come up with an internal solution rather than an external solution if you can. For a lot of people, what medication does is cut off the highs and the lows. I think life is supposed to have ups and downs in it, and having it all leveled out is really not taking into account the full spectrum of experiences that you’re supposed to have.”
“I believe that for some people therapy and medication works. Every person’s depression is different, as well as their bodies. Some doses work for one person, and a different person may need a higher or lower does, or a completely different drug all together. I think it just takes some time to figure out what works for that individual person. But I do believe that both therapy and medication are very helpful.”
“I decided to try mental thought process changing without medication first, hoping that would be enough. I was lucky-I never went the medication route, but would have had it come to that.”
Most research has found that a combination of therapy and medication works best for severe depression. The important thing is to find what you feel is the best answer for you. It seems to me that medication should be a last resort, though for some people who take it temporarily, it can provide a taste of what life can feel like, and give them incentive to reach for that feeling again once they come off the medication. I believe, however, that no matter what help we get professionally, if we do not make the gospel our primary implement in our search for happiness, we will never fully heal.
Because depression is not completely understood, most medications are still fairly experimental, and new discoveries are always being made. Much caution must be taken with any antidepressant because they are all still very new. I would advise anybody considering this option to do some research and ask a doctor about options. New medications are constantly being developed. This is a good sign, in that it is progress, but we must be careful because all future side effects may not be known, even when a medication is deemed safe. Weighing the risks and benefits is up to each patient individually. Many patients find that they need to try a few medications before finding one that works for them.
Some patients need only take an antidepressant for a short amount of time for it to rebalance them. Others find that they need to stay on it indefinitely.
There are myriad opinions regarding the use of medications and therapy, as demonstrated in the following quotes:
“Therapy works if you are willing to be brutally honest. Most people who are depressed, I believe, aren't willing or able to be. Going through the motions of therapy finally brought me to the point of being willing to be honest with my life and myself.
“I think meds are a necessary evil. I think there must be better ways out there…but I also don't know much about it. I think there must be a more holistic approach. Meds often cause more problems than they help. Coming off them is so emotionally dangerous, and I, as many people do, decided many times to just take myself off them without supervision. It always seems logical at the time.”
“I think it’s preferable to come up with an internal solution rather than an external solution if you can. For a lot of people, what medication does is cut off the highs and the lows. I think life is supposed to have ups and downs in it, and having it all leveled out is really not taking into account the full spectrum of experiences that you’re supposed to have.”
“I believe that for some people therapy and medication works. Every person’s depression is different, as well as their bodies. Some doses work for one person, and a different person may need a higher or lower does, or a completely different drug all together. I think it just takes some time to figure out what works for that individual person. But I do believe that both therapy and medication are very helpful.”
“I decided to try mental thought process changing without medication first, hoping that would be enough. I was lucky-I never went the medication route, but would have had it come to that.”
Most research has found that a combination of therapy and medication works best for severe depression. The important thing is to find what you feel is the best answer for you. It seems to me that medication should be a last resort, though for some people who take it temporarily, it can provide a taste of what life can feel like, and give them incentive to reach for that feeling again once they come off the medication. I believe, however, that no matter what help we get professionally, if we do not make the gospel our primary implement in our search for happiness, we will never fully heal.
(Chapter 4) Holding On
Just as every dark night ends with the rising of the sun, no depression lasts forever. Light will come back eventually. Most people find that depression goes in cycles—their lives are a series of ups and downs. Comfort can be found in looking forward to the ups.
When I was depressed, I derived some degree of comfort in knowing that others had felt the way I did. Micahael Mclean’s song “Hold on, the Light Will Come” described my feelings impeccably and gave beautiful counsel:
Hold on. Hold on. The light will come.
If you feel trapped inside a never-ending night
If you’ve forgotten how it feels to feel the light
If you’re half crazy thinking you’re the only one
Who’s afraid the light will never really come,
Just hold on. Hold on! The light will come.[1]
Anyone who has experienced depression knows the fear and the sorrow portrayed in these words, knows what it means to “feel trapped inside a never-ending night.” That is why the counsel is so wise and poignant: Just hold on. It’s true: the light will come. No matter how much it feels like it won’t, no matter how terribly dark it gets, it will not be dark forever. There is light in the world, and eventually that light will come back.
[1] “Hold On, The Light Will Come,” The Collection.
When I was depressed, I derived some degree of comfort in knowing that others had felt the way I did. Micahael Mclean’s song “Hold on, the Light Will Come” described my feelings impeccably and gave beautiful counsel:
Hold on. Hold on. The light will come.
If you feel trapped inside a never-ending night
If you’ve forgotten how it feels to feel the light
If you’re half crazy thinking you’re the only one
Who’s afraid the light will never really come,
Just hold on. Hold on! The light will come.[1]
Anyone who has experienced depression knows the fear and the sorrow portrayed in these words, knows what it means to “feel trapped inside a never-ending night.” That is why the counsel is so wise and poignant: Just hold on. It’s true: the light will come. No matter how much it feels like it won’t, no matter how terribly dark it gets, it will not be dark forever. There is light in the world, and eventually that light will come back.
[1] “Hold On, The Light Will Come,” The Collection.
Attitude
Two frogs fell into a bowl of cream.
One had an optimistic gleam,
But the other took the gloomy view.
“We’ll drown,” he cried, and without adieu
He gave a last despairing cry,
Flung up his legs and said good-bye.
Said the other frog with a steady grin,
“I can’t get out, but I won’t give in;
I’ll just swim around till my strength is spent,
Then will I die the more content.”
Bravely he swam till it would seem
His struggles began to churn the cream.
On top of the butter at last he stopped,
And out of the bowl he gaily hopped.
What is the moral? ’Tis easily found:
If you can’t get out, keep swimming around.
(Author Unknown)
We always have a choice, even during our worst trials. We can give up or keep swimming around. While “keep swimming around” may seem overly optimistic and simplistic, it may actually be more feasible than we believe. During my longest and most frustrating episode of depression, Jeff had a poster that read, “We can’t always control the things that happen to us, but we can always control our attitudes.” It hung on our living room wall, across from the front door, right next to the entrance to the kitchen. I saw it all the time and I hated it. It stared at me and taunted me and told me I was weak because I couldn’t control my feelings. It said to me that I was doing something wrong if I was sad and angry all the time. One day I got so frustrated that I took a piece of masking tape and wrote on it in bright green permanent marker, “unless we have depression.” I stuck it on the poster beneath the words, amending it to consider my needs and my feelings. I didn’t mean to leave it there for long, but I forgot about it and still wonder how many guests saw it. I took it off one day after my visiting teachers had been to see me and the poster had been just behind me, in plain view to them. I assume they saw it, but they didn’t say anything about it, for which I was grateful. Jeff took the poster down soon after that, obviously having realized that it offended me.
I have since determined that I was wrong. I now agree with that poster. We can’t control the things that happen to us. I got depression. I hated how I felt. I hated myself at times, and I certainly hated my blackened view of the world around me. But we can control our attitudes. And I now realize that I did. Although I didn’t feel like I could relate to anyone and wondered if I would ever be able to feel the calming influence of the Holy Ghost again, something inside me said, “Just hang on, Jana. This is not you, and it’s not your fault. The gospel is still true, and you will understand all of this eventually. Just hang on.”
Some days, it was all I could do to hang on. But that was the key. Through all of it, I did hang on. I hung on with every bit of me I could muster that wasn’t plagued and haunted by the growing darkness I felt. I didn’t give up; I knew that it would end, so I kept swimming around. I knew that somehow, when people in church proclaimed that the gospel should make us happy, it was true. Even though it didn’t feel true—it felt like I was a walking contradiction of that oft-quoted promise—I knew it was. I had a foundation in the gospel that told me that all of these foreign, gray feelings I was experiencing were not the truth—they were something else entirely and they would someday fit into an overall picture of my life and an overall picture of the truth of the gospel.
Dan, 54, shares this same sentiment: “There is something inside me that tells me these dark, gloomy feelings are not real. They are a lie. In these times, I try to rely on my intellect and the glimmer of divine light that, however dim, is never entirely extinguished in any of us to push those thoughts and feelings into the background. I find that age and experience help. I now know and recognize the symptoms. I know that there is an ebb and flow to it and I know, at least on an intellectual level, that it will eventually get better. I know now that even in the midst of the thickest fog that lasts for days on end, the sunlight is still there. One just has to keep traveling until the road climbs to an elevation that escapes the fog.
“One of the best pieces of advice I ever received wasn’t intended as advice at all. It came from a woman who had recently undergone a series of very difficult trials, suffering one heartbreak after another. After hearing her story, I remarked that she seemed to be doing pretty well, considering her circumstances and I asked how she was able to cope with all the sadness in her life. She replied, ‘I just hang on and wait for it to get better.’ So it is with me and my struggles with depression. I just hang on and wait for it to get better.
“And it always does.”
We have a choice. No matter how much of our self-will seems to have been taken away by depression, we always have a choice of how our afflictions will affect us. At a time of great war and turmoil in the Book of Mormon, we are told this: “But behold, because of the exceedingly great length of the war between the Nephites and the Lamanites many had become hardened, because of the exceedingly great length of the war; and many were softened because of their afflictions, insomuch that they did humble themselves before God, even in the depth of humility” (Alma 62:41). From all appearances, the two groups of people spoken of in this verse had the same difficulties; they had relatively similar afflictions and the main cause of their sorrows was the same war. So what was the difference between those who hardened their hearts and those who humbled themselves and turned to God? I’m convinced it was attitude. The ones who turned to the Lord were the ones who remembered what was most important.
We can decide what kind of effect our trials will have on us. We can humble ourselves and turn to the Lord rather than becoming angry with Him and believing that He is not being fair. “God is always there for you to lean on. But the hardest part is that when you are depressed, mostly in the worst part of depression, i.e. suicidal, either you think God doesn’t exist, or you think that God isn’t that nice of a guy. That was part of what I went through. I began to feel so alone and so hopeless and felt like god wasn’t going to help me and that he wasn’t there, when he was all along. I just had to ask for the help and he would have poured out his help and blessings on me. But I didn’t because I was in a self inflicted downward spiral: ‘God won’t help me? Fine! I won’t ask for it.’ But God needs for us to ask for his help so he can help us. He wants so badly to be there for us, to help us when we are at out most troubled.” It took a suicide attempt for this young man to learn that lesson.
Learning the lesson takes giving up our wills and trusting in what He has in store for us. One bishop I know who learned to find his way out of depression said, “Turning over our lives to the Lord is a frightening thing to do, especially when we already feel weighed down with burdens that seem much too heavy to carry and fear what additional loads the Lord may have in store for us. But we must remember that the Lord loves us perfectly; that his path will never allow us to suffer anything needlessly, and that his way toward perfection requires the least amount of heartache and suffering. We must not, in pride, believe that we know best.” Once we recognize that the Lord is at the helm, we will be more comfortable allowing Him to steer. Even if the war is inside of us, we have the power to humble ourselves or harden ourselves.
One had an optimistic gleam,
But the other took the gloomy view.
“We’ll drown,” he cried, and without adieu
He gave a last despairing cry,
Flung up his legs and said good-bye.
Said the other frog with a steady grin,
“I can’t get out, but I won’t give in;
I’ll just swim around till my strength is spent,
Then will I die the more content.”
Bravely he swam till it would seem
His struggles began to churn the cream.
On top of the butter at last he stopped,
And out of the bowl he gaily hopped.
What is the moral? ’Tis easily found:
If you can’t get out, keep swimming around.
(Author Unknown)
We always have a choice, even during our worst trials. We can give up or keep swimming around. While “keep swimming around” may seem overly optimistic and simplistic, it may actually be more feasible than we believe. During my longest and most frustrating episode of depression, Jeff had a poster that read, “We can’t always control the things that happen to us, but we can always control our attitudes.” It hung on our living room wall, across from the front door, right next to the entrance to the kitchen. I saw it all the time and I hated it. It stared at me and taunted me and told me I was weak because I couldn’t control my feelings. It said to me that I was doing something wrong if I was sad and angry all the time. One day I got so frustrated that I took a piece of masking tape and wrote on it in bright green permanent marker, “unless we have depression.” I stuck it on the poster beneath the words, amending it to consider my needs and my feelings. I didn’t mean to leave it there for long, but I forgot about it and still wonder how many guests saw it. I took it off one day after my visiting teachers had been to see me and the poster had been just behind me, in plain view to them. I assume they saw it, but they didn’t say anything about it, for which I was grateful. Jeff took the poster down soon after that, obviously having realized that it offended me.
I have since determined that I was wrong. I now agree with that poster. We can’t control the things that happen to us. I got depression. I hated how I felt. I hated myself at times, and I certainly hated my blackened view of the world around me. But we can control our attitudes. And I now realize that I did. Although I didn’t feel like I could relate to anyone and wondered if I would ever be able to feel the calming influence of the Holy Ghost again, something inside me said, “Just hang on, Jana. This is not you, and it’s not your fault. The gospel is still true, and you will understand all of this eventually. Just hang on.”
Some days, it was all I could do to hang on. But that was the key. Through all of it, I did hang on. I hung on with every bit of me I could muster that wasn’t plagued and haunted by the growing darkness I felt. I didn’t give up; I knew that it would end, so I kept swimming around. I knew that somehow, when people in church proclaimed that the gospel should make us happy, it was true. Even though it didn’t feel true—it felt like I was a walking contradiction of that oft-quoted promise—I knew it was. I had a foundation in the gospel that told me that all of these foreign, gray feelings I was experiencing were not the truth—they were something else entirely and they would someday fit into an overall picture of my life and an overall picture of the truth of the gospel.
Dan, 54, shares this same sentiment: “There is something inside me that tells me these dark, gloomy feelings are not real. They are a lie. In these times, I try to rely on my intellect and the glimmer of divine light that, however dim, is never entirely extinguished in any of us to push those thoughts and feelings into the background. I find that age and experience help. I now know and recognize the symptoms. I know that there is an ebb and flow to it and I know, at least on an intellectual level, that it will eventually get better. I know now that even in the midst of the thickest fog that lasts for days on end, the sunlight is still there. One just has to keep traveling until the road climbs to an elevation that escapes the fog.
“One of the best pieces of advice I ever received wasn’t intended as advice at all. It came from a woman who had recently undergone a series of very difficult trials, suffering one heartbreak after another. After hearing her story, I remarked that she seemed to be doing pretty well, considering her circumstances and I asked how she was able to cope with all the sadness in her life. She replied, ‘I just hang on and wait for it to get better.’ So it is with me and my struggles with depression. I just hang on and wait for it to get better.
“And it always does.”
We have a choice. No matter how much of our self-will seems to have been taken away by depression, we always have a choice of how our afflictions will affect us. At a time of great war and turmoil in the Book of Mormon, we are told this: “But behold, because of the exceedingly great length of the war between the Nephites and the Lamanites many had become hardened, because of the exceedingly great length of the war; and many were softened because of their afflictions, insomuch that they did humble themselves before God, even in the depth of humility” (Alma 62:41). From all appearances, the two groups of people spoken of in this verse had the same difficulties; they had relatively similar afflictions and the main cause of their sorrows was the same war. So what was the difference between those who hardened their hearts and those who humbled themselves and turned to God? I’m convinced it was attitude. The ones who turned to the Lord were the ones who remembered what was most important.
We can decide what kind of effect our trials will have on us. We can humble ourselves and turn to the Lord rather than becoming angry with Him and believing that He is not being fair. “God is always there for you to lean on. But the hardest part is that when you are depressed, mostly in the worst part of depression, i.e. suicidal, either you think God doesn’t exist, or you think that God isn’t that nice of a guy. That was part of what I went through. I began to feel so alone and so hopeless and felt like god wasn’t going to help me and that he wasn’t there, when he was all along. I just had to ask for the help and he would have poured out his help and blessings on me. But I didn’t because I was in a self inflicted downward spiral: ‘God won’t help me? Fine! I won’t ask for it.’ But God needs for us to ask for his help so he can help us. He wants so badly to be there for us, to help us when we are at out most troubled.” It took a suicide attempt for this young man to learn that lesson.
Learning the lesson takes giving up our wills and trusting in what He has in store for us. One bishop I know who learned to find his way out of depression said, “Turning over our lives to the Lord is a frightening thing to do, especially when we already feel weighed down with burdens that seem much too heavy to carry and fear what additional loads the Lord may have in store for us. But we must remember that the Lord loves us perfectly; that his path will never allow us to suffer anything needlessly, and that his way toward perfection requires the least amount of heartache and suffering. We must not, in pride, believe that we know best.” Once we recognize that the Lord is at the helm, we will be more comfortable allowing Him to steer. Even if the war is inside of us, we have the power to humble ourselves or harden ourselves.
(Chapter 5) Why?
The Lord always has a reason for the heartache, the suffering, and the trials we go through in this life. He has promised us, “all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory.”[1] Though we may never be able to comprehend some of these reasons in this life, we can at least search for the qualities we are gaining from the suffering. Through searching, we might be able to see how we are growing, and how all things work for the glory of the Father.
[1] D&C 98:3
[1] D&C 98:3
Whom Will I Believe?
There are basically two separate versions of reality that we can believe. One is the truth, and the other is a lie. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland has expressed the truth this way:
There is help. There is happiness. There really is light at the end of the tunnel. It is the Light of the World, the Bright and Morning Star, the light that is endless, that can never be darkened (see John 8:12). It is the very Son of God Himself. …
To any who may be struggling to see that light and find that hope, I say: Hold on. Keep trying. God loves you. Things will improve. Christ comes to you in His ‘more excellent ministry’ (Heb. 8:6) with a future of better promises. He is your ‘high priest of good things to come’ (Heb. 9:11).[1]
Satan is the author of the other version of reality, the lie. He would have us believe that we are evil for not being happy, that it is our fault, and that we can never change. He would have us forget the Savior and forget what it’s like to feel the Spirit. I know he takes advantage of the times we are depressed. As long as we realize that the negative feelings are not true and that they are not from the Lord, we can withstand them.
“But behold he doth not command us that we shall subject ourselves to our enemies, but that we should put our trust in him, and he will deliver us. Therefore, […] let us resist evil” (Alma 61:12-13)[2]. Though we are required at times to wait for the healing hand of the Lord, we are not required to allow the devil to put evil thoughts into our minds. Let us remember that they are lies. Even if they feel true, they are still lies. Holding on and waiting for the light does not mean allowing the devil to ravage our souls and convince us that the Lord doesn’t love us.
We are often told that the word “remember” is one of the most important words in the gospel. We read and reread the scriptures, have the same lessons in church, and hear the same words in the temple every time we go. For the most part, we already know the truths that can save us in times of need. Those truths must become engrained in us, so that in times of need we can access their power. The Lord knows how dangerous forgetting gospel truths can be, because if we forget, Satan will fill in the gaps with his own lies.
The ultimate truth we can remember is the truth of the Savior and His atonement, and this is the rock to which we must cling:
And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall. (Helaman 5:12)
We simply have to hang on to this truth; hang on, and refuse to let go; hang on, and wait for it to get better.
[1] “An High Priest of Good Things to Come.” Ensign, Nov. 1999, 36.
[2] See also James 4:7
There is help. There is happiness. There really is light at the end of the tunnel. It is the Light of the World, the Bright and Morning Star, the light that is endless, that can never be darkened (see John 8:12). It is the very Son of God Himself. …
To any who may be struggling to see that light and find that hope, I say: Hold on. Keep trying. God loves you. Things will improve. Christ comes to you in His ‘more excellent ministry’ (Heb. 8:6) with a future of better promises. He is your ‘high priest of good things to come’ (Heb. 9:11).[1]
Satan is the author of the other version of reality, the lie. He would have us believe that we are evil for not being happy, that it is our fault, and that we can never change. He would have us forget the Savior and forget what it’s like to feel the Spirit. I know he takes advantage of the times we are depressed. As long as we realize that the negative feelings are not true and that they are not from the Lord, we can withstand them.
“But behold he doth not command us that we shall subject ourselves to our enemies, but that we should put our trust in him, and he will deliver us. Therefore, […] let us resist evil” (Alma 61:12-13)[2]. Though we are required at times to wait for the healing hand of the Lord, we are not required to allow the devil to put evil thoughts into our minds. Let us remember that they are lies. Even if they feel true, they are still lies. Holding on and waiting for the light does not mean allowing the devil to ravage our souls and convince us that the Lord doesn’t love us.
We are often told that the word “remember” is one of the most important words in the gospel. We read and reread the scriptures, have the same lessons in church, and hear the same words in the temple every time we go. For the most part, we already know the truths that can save us in times of need. Those truths must become engrained in us, so that in times of need we can access their power. The Lord knows how dangerous forgetting gospel truths can be, because if we forget, Satan will fill in the gaps with his own lies.
The ultimate truth we can remember is the truth of the Savior and His atonement, and this is the rock to which we must cling:
And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall. (Helaman 5:12)
We simply have to hang on to this truth; hang on, and refuse to let go; hang on, and wait for it to get better.
[1] “An High Priest of Good Things to Come.” Ensign, Nov. 1999, 36.
[2] See also James 4:7
There is a Season
Let us also remember that we do not always have to be happy. Every time I have a bad day I start to get so afraid that it’s coming back. It’s coming back to stay. That evil little voice inside me makes it so much worse; it magnifies my negative feelings tenfold. But then, so often, Jeff will remind me, “It’s okay. Everyone has their days.” Just knowing that makes all the difference. Sometimes people get sad for no reason.
If I determine that my feelings of sorrow or guilt are not actually due to sin, I try to remind myself that life is not meant to be happy all the time. Though we were sent here to have joy (2 Nephi 2:25), true joy does not mean laughing all the time; true joy comes from knowing the truth, from learning and growing through our trials. The Book of Mormon’s numerous references to sadness are not always because of sin, nor are they always negative. Jacob writes, “our lives passed away like it were unto us a dream, we being a lonesome and a solemn people,” even though they felt the love of God and searched the scriptures. He concludes, “wherefore, we did mourn out our days” (Jacob 7:26).
The truth is, we do not always have to be happy. “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,” we are told in Ecclesiastes, “A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance”[1]. Christ did not teach in the Beatitudes[2] “blessed are they who are happy all the time. He knew we wouldn’t be happy all the time, but that we had to go through these experiences in life to make us better. Blessed, instead, are the meek, the humble, the poor in spirit, those that weep, those that mourn, and they who hunger and thirst after righteousness.
Afflictions are the refiner’s fire. They are meant to make us stronger, and they show us that God trusts us enough to give them to us, “for God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which ye are able” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Trials are our Father’s way of showing us how strong we can be.
We are not promised total and eternal happiness until after this life and after the judgment. Only then will we receive the happiness that we earn through our endurance in this life, which is made possible through Christ:
And he hath brought to pass the redemption of the world, whereby he that is found guiltless before him at the judgment day hath it given unto him to dwell in the presence of God in his kingdom, to sing ceaseless praises with the choirs above, unto the Father, and unto the Son, and unto the Holy Ghost, which are one God, in a state of happiness which hath no end. (Mormon 7:7)
We have never been promised this kind of happiness for this life. It is the blessing and reward given to the faithful in the end. This does not come at any time in this life, though we may feel the joy of the gospel in this life. If we hold on, if we endure in righteousness, and if we refuse to believe Satan’s lies, we can eventually receive this happiness—the happiness without end.
[1] Ecclesiastes 3:1,4; See also Ecclesiastes 7:2-6, James 4:9-10
[2] 3 Nephi 12:3-6; Matthew 5:3-11; Luke 6:20-22
If I determine that my feelings of sorrow or guilt are not actually due to sin, I try to remind myself that life is not meant to be happy all the time. Though we were sent here to have joy (2 Nephi 2:25), true joy does not mean laughing all the time; true joy comes from knowing the truth, from learning and growing through our trials. The Book of Mormon’s numerous references to sadness are not always because of sin, nor are they always negative. Jacob writes, “our lives passed away like it were unto us a dream, we being a lonesome and a solemn people,” even though they felt the love of God and searched the scriptures. He concludes, “wherefore, we did mourn out our days” (Jacob 7:26).
The truth is, we do not always have to be happy. “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven,” we are told in Ecclesiastes, “A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance”[1]. Christ did not teach in the Beatitudes[2] “blessed are they who are happy all the time. He knew we wouldn’t be happy all the time, but that we had to go through these experiences in life to make us better. Blessed, instead, are the meek, the humble, the poor in spirit, those that weep, those that mourn, and they who hunger and thirst after righteousness.
Afflictions are the refiner’s fire. They are meant to make us stronger, and they show us that God trusts us enough to give them to us, “for God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that which ye are able” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Trials are our Father’s way of showing us how strong we can be.
We are not promised total and eternal happiness until after this life and after the judgment. Only then will we receive the happiness that we earn through our endurance in this life, which is made possible through Christ:
And he hath brought to pass the redemption of the world, whereby he that is found guiltless before him at the judgment day hath it given unto him to dwell in the presence of God in his kingdom, to sing ceaseless praises with the choirs above, unto the Father, and unto the Son, and unto the Holy Ghost, which are one God, in a state of happiness which hath no end. (Mormon 7:7)
We have never been promised this kind of happiness for this life. It is the blessing and reward given to the faithful in the end. This does not come at any time in this life, though we may feel the joy of the gospel in this life. If we hold on, if we endure in righteousness, and if we refuse to believe Satan’s lies, we can eventually receive this happiness—the happiness without end.
[1] Ecclesiastes 3:1,4; See also Ecclesiastes 7:2-6, James 4:9-10
[2] 3 Nephi 12:3-6; Matthew 5:3-11; Luke 6:20-22
The Lord's Purposes
We came here for a purpose, and all of our experiences are meant to make us stronger and help us grow. It is a mistake to ask, as the people asked Christ about the blind man, “who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?” (John 9:2). We cannot see with our limited vision the wisdom of the Lord, so we try to find explanations for ourselves, often looking in the wrong places. We must not assume that trials are a punishment. If righteousness were the determinant factor for ease of life, Christ would have had the easiest life of all, with no heartache, no struggles, and no pain. Christ’s answer is so important in this instance: “Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him” (John 9:3). The Lord has His own purposes; it is our job to trust Him. “And in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things, and obey not his commandments” (D&C 59:21). We must be able to tell ourselves that His hand is in all things, including the circumstances that we would rather not have.
We may not understand the details, but from Moses 1:39, we do know the Lord’s purpose. “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” In our efforts to try to understand why we may be burdened with the difficulties we face, it would be wise to stop and ask what we might learn from this experience or how we might grow, for “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life” (2 Nephi 26:24). Rather than cursing God, we should be thanking Him for giving us the opportunity to learn and grow, though it may go against everything we are feeling.
We can learn a great deal about our own emotional or spiritual bondage from the people of Limhi and the people of Alma, who suffered in bondage under the Lamanites. Through all of their suffering, the Lord did hear their cries, “and began to soften the hearts of the Lamanites that they began to ease their burdens; yet the Lord did not see fit to deliver them out of bondage” (Mosiah 21:15). The Lord does not always see fit to deliver us out of bondage, but He does always hear us. If we continue our prayers, He will bless us that we may be able to bear our burdens, but He will not always remove the affliction.
We are told why the Lord allowed Alma’s people to remain in bondage to Amulon: “Nevertheless the Lord seeth fit to chasten his people; yea, he trieth their patience and their faith” (Mosiah 23:21). The Lord needs to test us, for that is why we are here. Only the Lord can decide when we will be delivered from bondage, and He is the only one able to deliver us. If He does not see fit, then even the strongest army could not free us. All our faith cannot free us if it is not time.
But if ye will turn to the Lord with full purpose of heart, and put your trust in him, and serve him with all diligence of mind, if ye do this he will, according to his own will and pleasure, deliver you out of bondage. (Mosiah 7:33, emphasis added)
So we learn to wait, and we learn to trust.
We may not understand the details, but from Moses 1:39, we do know the Lord’s purpose. “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” In our efforts to try to understand why we may be burdened with the difficulties we face, it would be wise to stop and ask what we might learn from this experience or how we might grow, for “He doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; for he loveth the world, even that he layeth down his own life” (2 Nephi 26:24). Rather than cursing God, we should be thanking Him for giving us the opportunity to learn and grow, though it may go against everything we are feeling.
We can learn a great deal about our own emotional or spiritual bondage from the people of Limhi and the people of Alma, who suffered in bondage under the Lamanites. Through all of their suffering, the Lord did hear their cries, “and began to soften the hearts of the Lamanites that they began to ease their burdens; yet the Lord did not see fit to deliver them out of bondage” (Mosiah 21:15). The Lord does not always see fit to deliver us out of bondage, but He does always hear us. If we continue our prayers, He will bless us that we may be able to bear our burdens, but He will not always remove the affliction.
We are told why the Lord allowed Alma’s people to remain in bondage to Amulon: “Nevertheless the Lord seeth fit to chasten his people; yea, he trieth their patience and their faith” (Mosiah 23:21). The Lord needs to test us, for that is why we are here. Only the Lord can decide when we will be delivered from bondage, and He is the only one able to deliver us. If He does not see fit, then even the strongest army could not free us. All our faith cannot free us if it is not time.
But if ye will turn to the Lord with full purpose of heart, and put your trust in him, and serve him with all diligence of mind, if ye do this he will, according to his own will and pleasure, deliver you out of bondage. (Mosiah 7:33, emphasis added)
So we learn to wait, and we learn to trust.
Always a Reason
There are countless other reasons for trials in our lives; one is to humble us enough to come and kneel at His feet. “And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27).
We are not given weaknesses to make us feel bad about ourselves or to cause despair or discouragement. On the contrary, we are given weaknesses so we will come unto Him with humble hearts.
Once we are humble, He shows us what to do better, and his “grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves.” Then, He will not only bless us in other areas of our lives; he will bless us in that specific area: “then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27). I know this is true. Depression has made me stronger. I am grateful for the lessons I have learned from it and the lessons I know I will continue to learn from it throughout my life. If I deal with it right, the promised strength will come.
How much better off would we be if we remembered the purpose of the trials given us by the Lord? We are to take them to the Lord, humble ourselves before Him, and allow Him to strengthen us. So often we turn away from Him instead, either angry with Him or feeling unworthy. But if we want the promised blessings of the Lord, we will take our problems to Him, for we find true peace and rest only in Him. Theodore E. Curtis’s words in the Hymn “Lean On My Ample Arm” express this idea beautifully:
Lean on my ample arm,
O thou depressed!
And I will bid the storm
Cease in thy breast.
Whate’er thy lot may be
On life’s complaining sea,
If thou wilt come to me,
Thou shalt have rest. (Hymns, 120)
The invitation is always open: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).
We are not given weaknesses to make us feel bad about ourselves or to cause despair or discouragement. On the contrary, we are given weaknesses so we will come unto Him with humble hearts.
Once we are humble, He shows us what to do better, and his “grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves.” Then, He will not only bless us in other areas of our lives; he will bless us in that specific area: “then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27). I know this is true. Depression has made me stronger. I am grateful for the lessons I have learned from it and the lessons I know I will continue to learn from it throughout my life. If I deal with it right, the promised strength will come.
How much better off would we be if we remembered the purpose of the trials given us by the Lord? We are to take them to the Lord, humble ourselves before Him, and allow Him to strengthen us. So often we turn away from Him instead, either angry with Him or feeling unworthy. But if we want the promised blessings of the Lord, we will take our problems to Him, for we find true peace and rest only in Him. Theodore E. Curtis’s words in the Hymn “Lean On My Ample Arm” express this idea beautifully:
Lean on my ample arm,
O thou depressed!
And I will bid the storm
Cease in thy breast.
Whate’er thy lot may be
On life’s complaining sea,
If thou wilt come to me,
Thou shalt have rest. (Hymns, 120)
The invitation is always open: “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).
(Chapter 6) Our Relationship with our Father
“O Lord, I have trusted in thee, and I will trust in thee forever.”-2 Nephi 4:34
During times of darkness and confusion, it can be so easy to get frustrated with the Lord, to question Him. But if we can truly come to see Him as our Father—and not only our Father, but our wise, loving, perfect Father—perhaps we will gain a better understanding of what He does for us and why. Our earthly parent-child relationships are a blessing the Lord has given us to teach us how He feels about us. I feel that in the short time that I have been a mother, my comprehension of the love of Deity has grown more than I can fathom. Though I know that in this life I will never truly understand the kind of love He has for us, I also know that my role as a mother will take me closer to that understanding than any other position in this world.
Taking Our Medicine
One morning when Emma was one, I was giving her an antibiotic for an ear infection. She hated it and let me know with her angry screams. I felt bad, and tried to explain my cruelty by telling her, “I’m sorry you think I’m the meanest mommy in the world, but I have to give you medicine because I love you so much and I want you to get better.” I knew she couldn’t understand that something unpleasant could actually help her, but it does, whether she understands it or not. I know that someday she will understand it, but it won’t be for a long time, and by then she will have forgotten my cruelty in giving her nasty medicine, letting nurses give her shots, or leaving her in her crib to cry so she can learn to go back to sleep on her own.
Sometimes, in our finite vision and understanding, we are like little children, crying about the nasty medicine or the pain, and He’s there, in his infinite wisdom, trying to tell us, “It’s because I love you so much.” But we get even more upset, and sometimes angry, when we don’t receive relief, or even an explanation of why. But our loving Father often has to let us cry. We have to get hurt, we have to feel sorrow, and we have to experience terrible things as a part of mortality. Like it or not, it’s usually for our good.
Joseph Smith’s experience in Liberty Jail is a perfect example of this. After pleading for relief, asking his Father why He had left him alone, asking how long he would have to suffer,[1] he received his answer: “My son, peace be unto thy soul. Thine adversity and thine affliction shall be but a small moment.” And then, after listing all the terrible things that had happened or could happen to Joseph, He told him, “Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.”[2] How many times do we, as loving parents, allow things to happen to our children, and, knowing that they won’t possibly understand until much later, promise them, “It’s for your own good”?
[1] D&C 121:1-6
[2] D&C 122:8, emphasis added
Sometimes, in our finite vision and understanding, we are like little children, crying about the nasty medicine or the pain, and He’s there, in his infinite wisdom, trying to tell us, “It’s because I love you so much.” But we get even more upset, and sometimes angry, when we don’t receive relief, or even an explanation of why. But our loving Father often has to let us cry. We have to get hurt, we have to feel sorrow, and we have to experience terrible things as a part of mortality. Like it or not, it’s usually for our good.
Joseph Smith’s experience in Liberty Jail is a perfect example of this. After pleading for relief, asking his Father why He had left him alone, asking how long he would have to suffer,[1] he received his answer: “My son, peace be unto thy soul. Thine adversity and thine affliction shall be but a small moment.” And then, after listing all the terrible things that had happened or could happen to Joseph, He told him, “Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.”[2] How many times do we, as loving parents, allow things to happen to our children, and, knowing that they won’t possibly understand until much later, promise them, “It’s for your own good”?
[1] D&C 121:1-6
[2] D&C 122:8, emphasis added
Trusting Through Our Tears
The Lord has promised us, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you” (John 14:18). He has also promised that He will never allow us to suffer more than we can bear.[1]
I find some of the most calming and reassuring words in scripture in verse 8: “And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.” This is a principle with a promise. If we endure it well—not just survive it, but deal with it patiently, prayerfully, and with all the faith and hope we can muster—then we will receive the ultimate blessing, the highest of God’s gifts: life eternal, exaltation[2]. More immediately though, we’ll triumph over all our foes. Our foes are not always people; more often, in fact, they’re not. I would love to triumph over certain temptations and obstacles I have. I would love to triumph over depression for good. Whatever our foes, we will triumph over them, but only if we endure it well.
Section 121 continues: “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than He?” (v. 9). This is a question we must ask ourselves. Do we really expect to go through life and have it easy? Our Savior, the most perfect person to ever live, descended below all things. He suffered it all. His condescension[3] included suffering more than any one of us will ever suffer. Are we so much better than He that we expect to skip it all and receive blessings for doing nothing? He suffered for our sins so that we won’t have to suffer if we repent. He suffered our sorrows so that He can succor us. He knows in a very literal way what it is like to suffer everything we have suffered. Suffering is how we become more like Him. Suffering and enduring it well.
It’s one thing to know all of this, to believe that it’s true and that it happens in theory. It’s another to put it into practice. It is hard. There is no doubt about that. But we didn’t come to earth to have an easy time and to go through life with no difficulties or obstacles. We must trust the Lord to keep His promises, because He will. He is bound if and only if we do what He says.[4]
The more I have thought about the parallel of our relationship with our Father and our own relationships with our children, the more examples I see. To our Father, we are all toddlers, like Emma, who is often so frustrated because she doesn’t get what she wants right away. When we are making dinner or she sees food that looks good, she wants it now. If we don’t give it to her now, I believe she must think that we hate her and that we’re torturing her. She thinks that if it’s not coming immediately, the answer is no; we’re not giving it to her, ever.
That is hardly ever the case, though. If we’ve just made pasta, it’s still hot. She cannot possibly understand the concept yet, but we don’t want her to hurt herself. If she gets the noodles too soon they’ll burn her mouth. We often try to speed up the cooling process by putting a little bowl of noodles in the fridge or freezer, which makes her even more upset, because now she sees that we’re completely taking away her food and it must seem, more than ever, that we are really never going to give her what she wants.
I try so hard to tell her to be patient. I want to give her what she wants, because I want her to be happy. The answer is not no; the answer is not yet. I’m sure this sounds familiar to all of us, because it’s a concept we try very hard to understand. The Lord has three basic ways He answers our prayers: “yes,” “no,” and “not yet.” “Not yet” is a form of “yes,” but it often doesn’t feel like it. Waiting even a week for the timing to be right can seem to us an eternity, but we know that we have to trust in the Lord’s timing. Timing can change everything. Like the hot noodles, what is at one point dangerous to His children can be exactly what they need, and they’ll get it soon enough.
In any situation—a couple wanting to have a baby but not being able to; knowing you’ve met the person you’re going to marry but feeling it’s not the right time; waiting to be healed of a physical illness; or pleading for reprieve from depression—our Father in Heaven wants to give us what we want, but timing is often everything. If we will be patient and trusting, we will make it far easier on ourselves. Not only that, but by showing our Father that we trust Him, we make it easier for Him to trust us.
[1] 1 Corinthians 10:13
[2] See 2 Nephi 31:20
[3] See 1 Nephi 11:16-33
[4] D&C 82:10
I find some of the most calming and reassuring words in scripture in verse 8: “And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.” This is a principle with a promise. If we endure it well—not just survive it, but deal with it patiently, prayerfully, and with all the faith and hope we can muster—then we will receive the ultimate blessing, the highest of God’s gifts: life eternal, exaltation[2]. More immediately though, we’ll triumph over all our foes. Our foes are not always people; more often, in fact, they’re not. I would love to triumph over certain temptations and obstacles I have. I would love to triumph over depression for good. Whatever our foes, we will triumph over them, but only if we endure it well.
Section 121 continues: “The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than He?” (v. 9). This is a question we must ask ourselves. Do we really expect to go through life and have it easy? Our Savior, the most perfect person to ever live, descended below all things. He suffered it all. His condescension[3] included suffering more than any one of us will ever suffer. Are we so much better than He that we expect to skip it all and receive blessings for doing nothing? He suffered for our sins so that we won’t have to suffer if we repent. He suffered our sorrows so that He can succor us. He knows in a very literal way what it is like to suffer everything we have suffered. Suffering is how we become more like Him. Suffering and enduring it well.
It’s one thing to know all of this, to believe that it’s true and that it happens in theory. It’s another to put it into practice. It is hard. There is no doubt about that. But we didn’t come to earth to have an easy time and to go through life with no difficulties or obstacles. We must trust the Lord to keep His promises, because He will. He is bound if and only if we do what He says.[4]
The more I have thought about the parallel of our relationship with our Father and our own relationships with our children, the more examples I see. To our Father, we are all toddlers, like Emma, who is often so frustrated because she doesn’t get what she wants right away. When we are making dinner or she sees food that looks good, she wants it now. If we don’t give it to her now, I believe she must think that we hate her and that we’re torturing her. She thinks that if it’s not coming immediately, the answer is no; we’re not giving it to her, ever.
That is hardly ever the case, though. If we’ve just made pasta, it’s still hot. She cannot possibly understand the concept yet, but we don’t want her to hurt herself. If she gets the noodles too soon they’ll burn her mouth. We often try to speed up the cooling process by putting a little bowl of noodles in the fridge or freezer, which makes her even more upset, because now she sees that we’re completely taking away her food and it must seem, more than ever, that we are really never going to give her what she wants.
I try so hard to tell her to be patient. I want to give her what she wants, because I want her to be happy. The answer is not no; the answer is not yet. I’m sure this sounds familiar to all of us, because it’s a concept we try very hard to understand. The Lord has three basic ways He answers our prayers: “yes,” “no,” and “not yet.” “Not yet” is a form of “yes,” but it often doesn’t feel like it. Waiting even a week for the timing to be right can seem to us an eternity, but we know that we have to trust in the Lord’s timing. Timing can change everything. Like the hot noodles, what is at one point dangerous to His children can be exactly what they need, and they’ll get it soon enough.
In any situation—a couple wanting to have a baby but not being able to; knowing you’ve met the person you’re going to marry but feeling it’s not the right time; waiting to be healed of a physical illness; or pleading for reprieve from depression—our Father in Heaven wants to give us what we want, but timing is often everything. If we will be patient and trusting, we will make it far easier on ourselves. Not only that, but by showing our Father that we trust Him, we make it easier for Him to trust us.
[1] 1 Corinthians 10:13
[2] See 2 Nephi 31:20
[3] See 1 Nephi 11:16-33
[4] D&C 82:10
They May Forget
One of my favorite scriptures about what our Savior did for us is Isaiah 49:15-16: “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.” When I first discovered this reference in high school, I loved the imagery of the Savior’s hands; He constantly has a reminder of us in the palms of his hands. It is a reminder of what he suffered and a reminder of us, those for whom he suffered.
In high school I tended to ignore the first verse. I was a little confused by the referral to a woman and her child, and I wondered why it would say that any mother could possibly forget her baby. Since having Emma, my feelings about this have been deepened more, and I can feel what a strong comparison this is. To answer the question, “Can a woman forget her sucking child?” I want to say no. I feel that I could never forget my daughter; I will always have compassion on her. It is the strongest bond I have ever felt so immediately in my life.
Had I been the one making this comparison and writing these words, I would have answered the question with a firm “no.” In my version of this scripture it would say that just like a mother, Christ can never forget us. Luckily, though, I wasn’t the one writing, and these words were clearly inspired. The Lord in his infinite wisdom tells us through these words that He is far more loving than any earthly mother. He gets our attention with this question and then surprises us a little with the answer. He wants us to see what a difference it is; He loves us far more and far more perfectly than we will ever love anybody in this life. The news and our own experiences confirm to us that unfortunately, some mothers do forget their children. The most God-like relationship we will ever have in this life is still nowhere near the perfect love we receive from our Father in Heaven and the Father of our Spirits, our Savior. He will never forget us.
In high school I tended to ignore the first verse. I was a little confused by the referral to a woman and her child, and I wondered why it would say that any mother could possibly forget her baby. Since having Emma, my feelings about this have been deepened more, and I can feel what a strong comparison this is. To answer the question, “Can a woman forget her sucking child?” I want to say no. I feel that I could never forget my daughter; I will always have compassion on her. It is the strongest bond I have ever felt so immediately in my life.
Had I been the one making this comparison and writing these words, I would have answered the question with a firm “no.” In my version of this scripture it would say that just like a mother, Christ can never forget us. Luckily, though, I wasn’t the one writing, and these words were clearly inspired. The Lord in his infinite wisdom tells us through these words that He is far more loving than any earthly mother. He gets our attention with this question and then surprises us a little with the answer. He wants us to see what a difference it is; He loves us far more and far more perfectly than we will ever love anybody in this life. The news and our own experiences confirm to us that unfortunately, some mothers do forget their children. The most God-like relationship we will ever have in this life is still nowhere near the perfect love we receive from our Father in Heaven and the Father of our Spirits, our Savior. He will never forget us.
(Chapter 7) Struggling in the Spirit
Abide with me! fast falls the even-tide;
The darkness deepens. Lord, with me abide!
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!
-Henry F. Lyte[1]
Enos tells us “of the wrestle which I had before God” (Enos 1:2), “struggling in the spirit” (v. 10). Alma relates that he “labored much in the spirit, wrestling with God in mighty prayer” (Alma 8:10). Prayer is not always easy. I have never understood these references to the “wrestle” with God as well as I did when I was depressed, when the struggle felt almost physical. Closing me eyes seemed painful, and I was keenly aware not only of how uncomfortable it was to kneel, but of how tired and frustrated I was. More than that though, I didn’t feel worthy to say much. I didn’t feel worthy to pray.
I felt completely ungrateful; sometimes I felt like the people described in the Book of Mormon as “dark, loathsome, and filthy.” I loathed myself, feeling there was darkness in my very soul. At times I felt that I must have done something to deserve this, so I should just accept it and refrain from asking God to take away something that was my fault anyway. Other times I knew that I hadn’t done anything to bring this upon myself, and I’d alternate between feeling forsaken by the Lord and feeling that I was a failure for my inability to get rid of my dark feelings, to “arise from the dust” and “shake off the chains” (2 Ne 1:21 & 23) that held me so tightly.
It was always at these darkest moments of sorrow, frustration, and loneliness that I told myself, just as I have always learned, that the times we don’t feel like praying are the times we need most to pray. “For if ye would hearken unto the spirit which teacheth a man to pray ye would know that ye must pray; for the evil spirit teacheth not a man to pray, but teacheth him that he must not pray” (2 Nephi 32:8).
[1] “Abide with Me!” Hymns 166
The darkness deepens. Lord, with me abide!
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me!
-Henry F. Lyte[1]
Enos tells us “of the wrestle which I had before God” (Enos 1:2), “struggling in the spirit” (v. 10). Alma relates that he “labored much in the spirit, wrestling with God in mighty prayer” (Alma 8:10). Prayer is not always easy. I have never understood these references to the “wrestle” with God as well as I did when I was depressed, when the struggle felt almost physical. Closing me eyes seemed painful, and I was keenly aware not only of how uncomfortable it was to kneel, but of how tired and frustrated I was. More than that though, I didn’t feel worthy to say much. I didn’t feel worthy to pray.
I felt completely ungrateful; sometimes I felt like the people described in the Book of Mormon as “dark, loathsome, and filthy.” I loathed myself, feeling there was darkness in my very soul. At times I felt that I must have done something to deserve this, so I should just accept it and refrain from asking God to take away something that was my fault anyway. Other times I knew that I hadn’t done anything to bring this upon myself, and I’d alternate between feeling forsaken by the Lord and feeling that I was a failure for my inability to get rid of my dark feelings, to “arise from the dust” and “shake off the chains” (2 Ne 1:21 & 23) that held me so tightly.
It was always at these darkest moments of sorrow, frustration, and loneliness that I told myself, just as I have always learned, that the times we don’t feel like praying are the times we need most to pray. “For if ye would hearken unto the spirit which teacheth a man to pray ye would know that ye must pray; for the evil spirit teacheth not a man to pray, but teacheth him that he must not pray” (2 Nephi 32:8).
[1] “Abide with Me!” Hymns 166
Coming Before the Lord
We are always worthy to pray. Whatever our situation, the Lord wants to hear from us, because He has commanded us to pray always. The Lord does not judge us based upon the performance of others; He judges us against what He knows we are capable of doing, right now. Knowing that our best—and not someone else’s best—is just what the Lord expects can help us to come before Him on our knees and converse with Him. “Come now,” He invites us, “and let us reason together” (Isaiah 1:18). He wants us to reason with him, to pour out our hearts to him. He already knows us, so we might as well be honest with Him.
The Lord knows all our weaknesses just as well as we do. And He still wants us to pray and to do our best. In a talk entitled “On Being Worthy,”[1] Elder Marvin J. Ashton declares, “When we take it upon ourselves to pass self-judgment and simply declare, ‘I am not worthy,’ we build a barrier to progress and erect blockades that prevent our moving forward.” He explains, “We can be worthy to enjoy certain privileges without being perfect.” Among these privileges are going to church and praying. “I am also convinced,” he says, “of the fact that the speed with which we head along the straight and narrow path isn’t as important as the direction in which we are traveling.” Depression slows us down. This is a fact, I know. But it’s okay. As long as we don’t let it stop us completely or turn us around, as long as we continue to press forward in obedience, we can still be counted worthy. This is the good news of the gospel. We can still obey; we can still pray, even when we do not feel worthy. Elder Ashton encourages each person to “refuse to judge themselves as unworthy,” because that is not our job. Our job is to keep trying and to keep praying.
[1] Marvin J. Ashton, “On Being Worthy,” Ensign, May 1989, 20
The Lord knows all our weaknesses just as well as we do. And He still wants us to pray and to do our best. In a talk entitled “On Being Worthy,”[1] Elder Marvin J. Ashton declares, “When we take it upon ourselves to pass self-judgment and simply declare, ‘I am not worthy,’ we build a barrier to progress and erect blockades that prevent our moving forward.” He explains, “We can be worthy to enjoy certain privileges without being perfect.” Among these privileges are going to church and praying. “I am also convinced,” he says, “of the fact that the speed with which we head along the straight and narrow path isn’t as important as the direction in which we are traveling.” Depression slows us down. This is a fact, I know. But it’s okay. As long as we don’t let it stop us completely or turn us around, as long as we continue to press forward in obedience, we can still be counted worthy. This is the good news of the gospel. We can still obey; we can still pray, even when we do not feel worthy. Elder Ashton encourages each person to “refuse to judge themselves as unworthy,” because that is not our job. Our job is to keep trying and to keep praying.
[1] Marvin J. Ashton, “On Being Worthy,” Ensign, May 1989, 20
Prayer of Thanksgiving
One of the most effective tools I have found in conquering my negative feelings toward prayer is saying a prayer of pure gratitude. I forget about trying to ask for things I need and try to remind myself of all the good in my life. Sometimes I have to make myself think of the things I am truly grateful for. My husband, my daughter, our home. Once I start thinking of my blessings, they come a little more easily. I realize I am also grateful for the nice weather and the blue sky. The trees, the grass, the birds. The person who smiled at me today. Soon the blessings come tumbling into my mind and momentarily replace the guilt and the sadness with a little bit of sunlight. When we are thinking of the things we love or appreciate, it is hard to remember the sadness.
With this glimmer of hope I sometimes find the ability to ask the Lord for the comfort I need. Other times, I feel that perhaps things will be okay after all, because I have found my gratitude. I find that I don’t even need to ask for comfort, because I have found it in my blessings. “Count your many blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”[1] This is true. Sometimes I am surprised by all the good in my life. It is a beautiful feeling.
[1] Johnson Oatman, Jr., “Count Your Blessings” Hymns 241
With this glimmer of hope I sometimes find the ability to ask the Lord for the comfort I need. Other times, I feel that perhaps things will be okay after all, because I have found my gratitude. I find that I don’t even need to ask for comfort, because I have found it in my blessings. “Count your many blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”[1] This is true. Sometimes I am surprised by all the good in my life. It is a beautiful feeling.
[1] Johnson Oatman, Jr., “Count Your Blessings” Hymns 241
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
