**Warning: This post contains sensitive and triggering topics. Please be mindful of reading or sending this post as this writing contains graphic imagery of postpartum depression and suicide ideation.
Severe depression robbed me the joy of my second son’s first year of life. I feel a complicated guilt as I look back at photos of him as a baby, and the first months of his life blur together. I couldn’t tell you when the depression first started. All I know is that as I sunk deeper and deeper, the light becoming dimmer and dimmer, I couldn’t fight my own way out.
Depression is tricky in that way. Instead of experiencing a tornado’s powerful gusts, I experienced depression as a subtle fog that got thicker and thicker until I couldn’t see what was right or true. When people ask why postpartum depression happens or when it happens, I don’t have an answer. All I know is that I can’t explain the darkness inside of me. The thoughts that convolute my mind become twisted and distorted, and what I could rationally denounce as false before suddenly becomes entertained as “normal.”
My thoughts became, “What am I doing? What if I just left now? Escaped to another realm where I didn’t have to feel this way. What is the point? None of what I do matters anyways. What is my purpose? I don’t even know what I’m doing here anymore.” The thoughts get muddled and fire continuously, quickly. The mental illness settles in and before you know it, you are a prisoner of your own mind, your own body. You stare off, lost in the confinement of your own mind. In the morning your mind reverts back to its sick self and you’re lost from the moment you open your eyes.
Insomnia sets in and your exhausted mind gets no rest.
My friend explained, “If you were physically sick, you would go to the doctor for medicine. The same goes for your mind. Your mind is sick. So you may need medication to heal your mind. And that is ok.”
I am now two and a half years into healing. Just as depression sets in a slowly, the healing process and journey is not a straight line. There are still ups and downs because life is up and down. But as I think back to my very worst depression days, I can rationalize my thought process now. Before, I was running from every irrational intrusive thought that bombarded its way into my skull. I couldn’t think clearly. What was right suddenly became very wrong. And what was up, I was convinced was down. My mind was sick, but when it comes to a mental illness, you just can’t explain it.
Some Christian therapists will call it spiritual warfare, stating you just need to get more mad so the devil will leave you alone. You’ll pray and pray. You will shout your prayers in every room in order for the “Devil” to leave. You may believe a demon has taken over your body because that’s just it. You are sick. But not in a way that you can explain because it’s your mind, it’s your being, it’s…you. Your mind has never failed you before. You don’t even recognize yourself or your life, but you know you just have to keep fighting, even if you feel like you are fighting on your own.
Depression becomes exhausting.
There is no way to just “snap out of it.” I would look at other moms picking up their sons and daughters from preschool and wonder, “Are you just putting a smile on your face like I am? Do you really feel as happy as you look? What is happiness anymore, anyways?” I came to believe happiness as an illusion. When people described their despair, their stress, their worries, I believed that everyone must feel this way all the time- out of control and alone. Everyone is running away from a demon that is constantly eating away at their brain. This blackhole of sadness had become a vacuum that sucked up every normal, rational thought you’ve ever had.
But that’s not the end…
As healing occurs, and you get farther and farther away from the deepest part of depression, you realize that you are not the problem. God does not hate you. You are going to be more than ok. You are going to smile and laugh again. And your soul will actually rejoice.
Tears come to my eyes when I look outside of myself into my twisted memories. I see a girl crying into her pillow at night, terrified that another “spiritual warfare” attack will happen.
I see that girl, tears streaming down her face, shouting into each room of her house as she “prays away the demons” that must infest it.
I see the nursing mother, filled with shaking anxiety, as yet another nursing session ends with a frustrated child not getting any milk because her let down is no longer happening.
I see the terrified woman wake up from a sleepless night, assaulted with daunting thoughts from the previous day, her heart sinking lower and lower. Every attack making her physically ill.
I see the mother, with two beautiful children, determining it would be better to just end all of this than to fight another day.
I see my past, and I want to hug that sweet girl who didn’t know that she was mentally ill. She knew everyone talked about mental health and mental illness, but when the “normal” things that usually work for calming a distressed mind don’t work, instead of thinking it was her fault and being asked to pray harder, try harder, she was so glad for the friend who told her that she needed actual help. She needed a doctor who could prescribe medicine for her illness in order to heal her brain.
Looking at my daughter in her eighth month of life, I am far from the depressed mother who longed to “be with God in Heaven because there was no purpose in this life on earth.” I know that when irrational thoughts come to mind, I talk about them out loud and dispel any lingering harm they could do to my mind. I am not perfect. I do get sad. But my sadness does not last for months at a time. I am the best mother to my third child that I had not felt I had been for my first two children.
But I won’t allow mother guilt to set in.
God’s grace is bigger and better than shame and guilt. I am so thankful for the help I received and to get to where I am now. There is a temptation to feel loss I feel looking back at old pictures of my two older sons, but I know that this present moment is a wonderful time to enjoy them. To enjoy my time at home with all of my children, experiencing the love and delight God has for me.
He did not leave or forsake me in my illness, and He is not withholding any good thing now. I can look back on my depression and see God’s hand pulling me through each step of the way. He had never been so close. I just couldn’t see Him when I was in the thick of it, but I can smile thinking of all the ways He providentially brought events into my life that seem otherworldly in this moment.
I don’t have an answer as to why certain women go through postpartum depression/psychosis/hormonal pandemonium. I don’t have practical advice or a three step program to help you fight the battles you face.
But I can tell you this, even after all I have gone through: God is good.
In my recovery, I kept reiterating and reminding myself that God is good. No matter what, God is good. I can’t explain why, but that simple phrase repeated over and over brought my deepest fears comfort. But what about what I went through? God is good. What if those thoughts come back? God is good. What if….? God is good. God is always good. My good God is always working for the good. Taking what was meant for evil and creating good from it.
If you know a mother, friend, loved one traveling the same journey of depression, I can tell her this: you will stand tall again, daughter.
You will smile again.
You will laugh deeply.
Your joy will be complete.
Just as slowly as depression sets in, healing will take place, albeit ever more slowly. Your mind will quiet. You will think and see clearly again. And I pray that when you think back to this time, you will not be filled with guilt and regret, but that you will search for God in your midst, actively working for good. I pray you will see with clear eyes that He was always leading you, holding you, praying over you. His promises always stand true.
May I pray for you?
Dear Heavenly Father,
I thank you that you are good. You are always good and always working and fighting on our behalf, even when we don’t recognize it. Thank you that depression is temporary and no matter the length, will not last forever.
Lord, I lift up my friend to you. I know that you love her dearly. Father, I pray that you would intervene on her behalf. I pray that you would bring healing to her heart and to her circumstances. Lord, I pray you would do for her what you have done for me. Lord, I don’t claim to know all the ways healing can take place, but I pray that you would speak your kind words either loudly or softly over her heart and mind, whichever way she can hear it best.
Lord, I pray we would draw near to you even in our discomfort so that you would draw near to us. I pray that our faith would not crumble in the face of depression but would become unshakeable as you rebuild your daughters. You are so much greater than the depression we feel.
In Jesus’ name, I pray, Amen.
Thank you for taking the time to read.
This was a tough one to write, but also a much needed one to help process the many ways depression can suck…the life out of anyone. I can’t speak for everyone, but I hope if you have ever experienced depression or know of someone who has, I pray you would find the help you need. A resource that was given to me was this site https://www.postpartum.net. But always, seek the professional help you need even if it starts with sharing the depths of you you thought no one would have to ever see.
Keep reading with us because March is all about mental health. As spring is right around the corner, I see these coming months as new beginnings. Several blog posts will be coming your way about a good approach to mental health and the perspective we can have.
And I hope to have something really cool for you in the next few weeks. Stick around!
If this is your first time here, I would love for your to check out some of my other writing.
- Don’t Let Your Fear Destroy a Peaceful Psalm 23 Perspective
- Self-Sufficiency is Toxic Contrary to Popular Opinion
- Inside the Devastating Mind of Postpartum Depression
- When Your Authentic Motherhood and Creativity Collide
- May We Be Emptied of Everything But Divine Love
