Can We Please Stop Acting Like Christians Never Struggle With Depression?

It’s easy to dismiss something that has never been a struggle for you.  Funny how that works, right? 

But I’ve always been a positive, fairly upbeat, glass–half-full kind of girl.  I don’t deny a melancholy side; I love solitude and I can be a brooder, but, overall, I’m a happy person. 

 

But something happened after the birth of my fourth child.  I’m sure a professional would have labeled it post-partum depression, and I suppose that’s exactly what it was, but depression is depression, no matter what kind it is or what exactly prompts it, and it seems to me that putting it in a separate category diminishes it somehow.

Did circumstances play a role in what I experienced?  Oh, absolutely!  Medical science has advanced so far that women rarely die in childbirth these days, but that hardly means they are ready to be kicked out the hospital door 24-48 hours afterwards to resume normal life. 

My body was broken, I was sleep-deprived, my post-childbirth hormones were going insane, and I had a new baby to care for, as if the three children I already had didn’t keep me busy enough.  My baby refused to sleep any more than was absolutely necessary, and when he was awake, he was usually fussy.  My oldest child was barely big enough to be of any help at all, and my two middle children became terrors competing for whatever attention I had left to give them, which wasn’t much. 

My husband had just started a business and was working 14-18-hour days.  My house went to pot.  I did well to feed everyone and do an occasional load of laundry, but that was all I could seem to accomplish.  Because I am a fabulous faker, (although I seem to be losing the gift of disguise as I age,) when we went out in public, and especially when we went to church, I pasted on a plastic smile and acted like all was well. 

We were in leadership after all.  And leaders can’t show weakness, right?

And, oh. my. goodness.

I fell into such a darkness I cannot even describe it to you.

I mean, I had dealt with “baby blues” before.  This was not it.  This was something different.  This was utter hopelessness — a blackness and a despair like nothing I had ever experienced before.  I hardly remember anything but a messy house and crying for literally 8 or 9 months. 

And hiding it, even from my husband.  Not the messy house, obviously, but I hid the depression to the best of my ability.  The fact he was so exhausted and overworked during that time helped me maintain my little ruse, and I assume I seemed more of a stressed-out mom than the deeply depressed woman I really was.  But inside I knew how bad things really were, and how far I had fallen into the darkness. 

And it scared me.  I mean, it really, really scared me.

Because I was never the type to focus on the negative!  In fact, I struggle with Eeyore personalities – those people who seem to live and even take a strange sort of delight in a world of negativity.  I had never been that type of person, and yet it seemed I was constantly plagued by this negative thinking I could not seem to break free of.  

It was so dark.  And so long.  But eventually, thank God, it did lift.

I will confess to you that I have never been quite the same since that experience.  Whether there was an actual physical change that took place during that time, or it’s just that I am more keenly aware now of those feelings when they arise, I can admit the tendency toward anxiety and depression has never totally gone away. 

Things have never been so dark again as they were then, but those feelings are something I am conscious of now.  I watch for them, pay attention to them, and combat them offensively.  Because I never want to experience that kind of darkness again.

But here is the thing:  I was and am a devout believer in Christ.  I believe in the power and authority of God’s word and I trust in His grace alone for my salvation.  Throughout my struggle with depression and in every struggle since, I have never abandoned my faith in Christ. 

Was my faith as strong as it should have been in those episodes?  No!  Obviously not!  But does imperfect faith somehow exclude us from the grace of Christ? 

As I tell one of my children often, faith isn’t faith at all if there aren’t doubts to overcome.  The presence of doubt is the very thing that makes faith necessary.  One is not exclusive of the other. 

So having shared all of that, let me make a less-than-flattering confession about myself. 

Before my own experience with depression, it is entirely possible I would have told you a Christian could not be depressed. 

Discouraged, yes.  Downhearted, yes. Insert some other less stigmatized, more acceptable term for despair and, YES! 

But depressed?  No!  Of course not!  After all, the Bible says God will keep a man in perfect peace if his mind is stayed on God. (Isaiah 26:3)

Except that even devout believers struggle sometimes to keep their eyes forever and unfailingly fixed upon Christ!  What Christian can honestly say they never worry, never question, and never struggle in their faith walk?  We are weak and broken individuals in need of a Savior each and every day and thinking we can somehow live above weakness is both pompous and unbiblical.

And honestly, I don’t know how you read through the Bible without seeing there multiple God-fearing individuals who plainly struggled with depression. 

Like Job.  Sometimes people want to put Job in his own category because his suffering was so extreme, but no matter the circumstances, how do you read his groanings and not agree he was a depressed man? 

Elijah. In one chapter he is the mechanism through which God is revealing His might on Mount Carmel.  By the next he’s convinced there’s nobody else in all Israel serving God and he wants God to just kill him before Jezebel has a chance to!  

Sounds pretty depressed to me.

Jonah. After an initial struggle, the man leads a wicked city to a place of repentance, only to have the book close out with this bizarre story about Jonah, angry and upset and wanting to die. 

Sounds awfully similar to the depression symptoms some people describe. 

Paul the apostle.  Second Timothy is filled with the same wisdom and instruction as all Paul’s letters, but this one is deeply personal, and there’s a melancholy tone almost from start to finish.  He was about to be executed and he knew it.  The Church he had labored for so intensively was facing persecution in the west and was falling into false doctrine in the east.  The last chapter reads with the heaviness of a faithful and trusting, but lonely man. 

If it wasn’t a form of depression, it was doubtless a dark time for Paul.

And David.  Oh, David.

I think any Christian who has ever experienced depression can identify so well with the Psalms.  David clearly struggled at times with depression.  Listen to this…

 

“Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing.  Heal me, O Lord, for my bones are troubled.  My soul also is greatly troubled… I am weary with my moaning.  Every night I flood my bed with tears.  I drench my couch with my weeping…” 6:2-6

“Why, O Lord, do you stand far away?  Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” 10:1

“How long, O Lord?  Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me?  How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day?” 13:1-2

 “My heart is in anguish within me.  The terrors of death have fallen upon me.  Fear and trembling come upon me, and horror overwhelms me.  And I say, ‘Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest. Yes, I would wander far away.  I would lodge in the wilderness.  I would hurry to find a shelter from the raging wind and tempest.” 55:4-8

 

There are scores of passages like this in the Psalms, and what I find so interesting is that there are moments of incredible praise intermittent with these groanings, which I think is very typical of the believer struggling with depression.  David knew the truth — he knew where his hope and strength lie, and he returned to it often in his writing, frequently reminding himself of the truths he knew about God. 

Acknowledging God’s power and grace and love no doubt helped him survive those moments of darkness, but it doesn’t appear to have eliminated them entirely in every case.  And yet David is referred to in scripture as the man after God’s own heart, which leads me to believe God was not put off by his honesty, or even his doubt and uncertainty. 

In fact, David himself observed,

 

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Ps 34:18

 

And he indicates, too, that his incredible sorrow was the very thing that reminded him of God’s grace and love.

 

“My soul is cast down within me, therefore I remember you.” Ps 42:6

 

And so I wonder sometimes why Christians are so put off by the subject of depression, sometimes even to the point of denying a believer can experience it. 

With some, I believe the problem is just ignorance.  As I said in the beginning, it is easy to dismiss something you have never experienced, but it’s also true that depression is viewed by some as a purely spiritual issue – evidence of weak faith and maybe even lack of commitment — when there is no question as to the physical and mental aspects of depression.  Often I hear different, less stigmatizing labels applied to it –  He’s just really discouraged right now – as if changing the label somehow lessens the severity of the condition enough to make it acceptable within Christian circles, even if there is no real difference in the symptoms they are experiencing.

Others are just terrified by anything that might be considered a mental illness, as if admitting to depression is just a step away from severe dementia or something, when nothing could be more ridiculous.  The brain is part of the body the same as a foot or a hand, and so I wonder sometimes how we can be so nonchalant when a friend thinks they have plantar fasciitis, only to freak out if they tell us they think they are depressed.

But I truly believe pride is the primary reason so many Christians refuse to recognize depression in the lives of believers.  Depression is weakness, maybe even extreme weakness, and though it is our weakness that drives us best to the foot of the cross, we don’t often do well at admitting to or confessing our frailty as human beings.  We’re uncomfortable when others do it, too, even though the Bible instructs us to confess our faults to one another that we might find healing. (James 5:16). 

The danger in pride is that it drives people to handle depression as I tried to do – To fake it and act like everything was okay when I was dying inside and desperately needed help on so many levels.  My pride was my greatest sin during that time.  And while my own struggle was horrid for me, I know there are many who experience symptoms far worse than my own.  I shudder to think what might become of a believer who feels they must hide what they are going through rather than face the condemnation of Christians who insist they must walk in flawless faith and sinless perfection. 

If my bout with depression taught me anything, it was compassion for those who also experience it. If only we could extend words of hope and encouragement to those struggling with depresssion rather than speak in denial and disapproval.  They need prayer and compassion, and gentle, but frequent reminders of what they already know about the One True God, until they can say along with Job…

“I go forward, but He is not there, and backward, but I cannot perceive Him; On the left hand, where He doth work, but I cannot behold Him.  He hideth Himself on the right hand that I cannot see Him.  But He knoweth the way that I take, and when He hath tried me, I shall come forth as GOLD.”  23:8-10