I have depression and I’m a Mormon.
Religion has always been a big part of my life. I grew up going to church every Sunday, I got baptized at 8 years old, and I read my scriptures and prayed daily. I loved having a strong relationship with my Heavenly Father. I was a happy kid. And I think I still am, just my illness covers that sometimes.
Being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is a huge part of who I am; it’s part of my identity and I always prided myself in being a part of that culture. The definition of me included so much of my spirituality, and it still does. However, being diagnosed with depression hurt my definition of myself so much that I think it wanted to completely destroy any goodness I had, including my love of my religion. My love of anything.
Soon, I started feeling undeserving and unlovable, typical symptoms of depression, which made it really hard for me to feel like God loved me. I felt like there wasn’t a point to anything. I felt like I was completely alone.
It was hard to feel like my body was a temple and also feel like I wanted to hurt my body sometimes. It was hard to feel like I was good enough to take the sacrament every week even though I was trying to follow the commandments the best I could. It was hard to feel like I was supported and loved by my ward and also feel like my body couldn’t accept love. It was hard for me to hear that “if I followed the commandments I’d be blessed” when I was following the commandments and hurting so much. It was hard to feel the spirit when I didn’t feel God at all. And I don’t think it was my fault, I think my body got really cold and hurt and defensive against feeling anything good because happiness was turned into something foreign to me. I got used to feeling bad and that’s all I knew for a long time. I fought off feelings because I was scared any feeling would turn into depressed feelings. I felt like everyone was really happy at church and honestly, it made me really angry. I felt angry that they didn’t know what I was going through, angry that they didn’t have to face what I had to face, angry that they were able to feel God and His love, angry that they felt the blessings we all get every day, angry that that they felt something other than pain and sadness and nothingness, angry at them and my body and my brain and my beliefs for betraying me.
It hurt that part of Mormon culture is that we are generally super happy and kind most of the time. We want to serve others. We even serve for two years on missions. I had all of those feelings before I had my year long fight with depression, and honestly I kind of felt like a foreigner at church after I was diagnosed. I was watching on as everyone was happy and kind and loving and I just couldn't even fake it. I bet it looked sort of strange because I'm a pretty happy person, and then I didn't feel like I could serve anyone or do my calling well enough. I had told anyone who asked that yes, of course I was planning on serving a full time mission when I turned 19. It was beyond difficult to accept recently that maybe my illness could prevent me from doing this rite of passage that I had looked forward to for years.
My depression made me grow up really fast. It kind of killed any type of innocence I had left, which sounds sort of dramatic, but my thoughts were so intense that this is how I feel. My heart turned pretty cold and hard and rough around the edges. I realized after a really hard year that I may have depression for the rest of my life. I had a sliver of hope, and I think I still do, that it was situational and that I’ll eventually be able to fight it off for good and live normally. However, I went to college and left all that sadness on my bed back home, but I’m still fighting, which is like super hard to accept. I thought it would get magically better when I left, but my depression is still with me. I still don’t know if I’ll have to deal with this trial for a lifetime, but even if I do, I did learn one thing: that even though I have depression, that doesn’t mean I can’t feel happiness. It doesn’t mean I can’t be an awesome member of my church. It doesn’t mean that I can’t feel the spirit and that God doesn’t love me. My depression eventually turned into an every other day fight, a once every couple of days fight, and sometimes I only have to fight once or twice a week.
Eventually, I felt good hanging out with my friends again. I felt good leaving my house. I felt good at church again. Feeling those good feelings, even for what was sometimes five minutes, was the world to me. Honestly, feeling that made me know that God didn’t leave me when my depression overcame me. Christ was right there by my side, when I was shaking and seizing every night, when I cried every day after school in my car, and even when I didn't want to be alive anymore. I know that Heavenly Father was watching me struggle, and His heart probably ached so much for me but He knew that I had to go through this in order to be who I’m meant to be. I know that I am loved and important and special, even though I don't feel like that a lot. I know that God was listening to all of my prayers, even when I begged Him to take my pain away. I know this was a trial for me that I had to go through, and I’m grateful for Heavenly Father trusting me with this trial, because it’s super hard. I’m grateful for Him for believing in me that I could make it. I’m grateful for Him for trusting that I could handle this.
So this is my advice for people dealing with what I dealt with: fight. Fight hard for your life and for everything you love. I promise, one day, it will get better. That doesn’t mean that depression will go away. Your hurt will still be there, but maybe one day you’ll get to church and you felt good for a little bit. Maybe you’ll read a scripture that answered a little prayer. Maybe you’ll pray and feel something. What you love is who you are, not your trials. I learned that the things I went through and go through don’t define me. Sadness and crying and feeling alone isn’t who I am, even though it does feel like that sometimes. My depression isn’t who I am. I am happy and hardworking and talented and awesome and I love my Heavenly Father and my older brother Jesus Christ and I just happen to have depression, just like how I have brown hair.
Depression is angry. Depression is dark. Depression is dehumanizing, debilitating and desensitizing.
Depression makes following the religion that I love a little bit harder, but that’s OK. I just remind myself that even if I don't feel loved sometimes, that I am. Even though it feels really hard to go to church sometimes, that I might feel better for going. Even though sometimes everyone else is feeling the spirit and I just can't, that it doesn't mean I'll never feel it again.
I have depression, and I can still be religious. I can still feel happiness. I can still serve others, even though it might be to a lesser capacity sometimes. I can still be good and kind. I can still be a Mormon.
