I don’t have depression. I was born with natural happiness, faith, and cheerfulness. I’ve had bad days like everybody else, but depression was never a problem for me. There are others in my life who do deal with depression. I’ve watched my family members and friends struggle to find happiness and purpose. People I love and care deeply about have been in the depths of despair and darkness. I comfort and support as much as I can, but I often find myself frustrated that I don’t have the perfect words to say, no magic spell or cure, that will pull them out of the loneliness they’ve found themselves in. I don’t pretend to know what it feels like so I can’t offer sincere empathy or relate perfectly. Everything I say sounds empty and meaningless. Sometimes I can’t say anything at all.
One day, about a year ago, I had the feeling I should text a friend of mine. I did and after a bit of inquiry she told me she was in the hospital because she had tried to kill herself. I cannot accurately describe the feeling of concern, sadness, and utter shock I felt. I was so oblivious to the seriousness of her depression or even how very real her depression was. At first I blamed myself. I should’ve been a better friend, I should’ve been there for her more, I should’ve known and understood better. I knew telling myself these things were pointless, untrue, and destructive. In the end I found myself getting angry. I was so frustrated that this could happen to someone I loved so much, and especially to someone who did not deserve it. I thought that if anyone should have to battle depression it should be me, not her. Not because I could handle it better or something stupid like that. I had a good life, a happy life. After what had happened to my friend, I felt spoiled and undeserving of everything I’ve been blessed with. Why should my friend, someone so good, so kind, so wonderful, who has had a difficult, hard life, be cursed with such crippling darkness? I loved her so fiercely. I desperately wanted to take her depression away from her and put it on myself. I wanted her to be happy so badly. I wanted her healed. I felt like she deserved my happiness more than I did.
I was forced to learn something I didn’t want to learn. Because the truth is, I can’t take away her pain. Her pain is hers alone. Just as my pain is mine alone. Her depression is a trial that was given to her for a reason. That reason is for her to discover for herself. My own trials are given to me for a reason. Both of us must overcome and endure our challenges on a daily basis and to wish them away is to wish away growth, development, and change.
About a month ago my brother reached out to me when he was struggling with depression. We had a long talk on top of a wall by a church bell tower late at night. He told me many of the things was dealing with, things very close to his heart and hard to talk about. It broke my heart, to see him so sad, lonely, and hopeless. I told him of my friend’s attempted suicide and how I wanted to take her pain away. I told him how the only thing that got me through it was the hope that God had given her this trial for a reason but also that He had given her a way to endure it. I told him that I have to believe the same for him. God is not going to let us drown. After a while all I could do is hug him as we both cried.
As I look back at my desire to take away my dear friend’s pain, I feel like I understand Christ and His atonement a bit more. I had always wondered why. Why did Christ do it? I understood why it needed to be done but I still didn’t get why Christ would willingly suffer pain so great and infinite for people who are so imperfect and so mortal and so…small. But I remember that love I had for my friend. I remember how I loved her so deeply and fiercely that I wanted to take her pain upon myself so she could be happy, so she could be healed. I thought that must be how Christ feels toward us on a more infinite but personal scale. He loves me, He loves you, He loves my brother and my friend so deeply and fiercely and completely that He was willing to take our pains upon Himself. But even after feeling exactly what we feel, He still cannot take away our trials.
Everyone’s challenges are their own to conquer. But that doesn’t mean they have to conquer it alone. I can’t remove your sorrow, but I can cry with you. I can’t give you my happiness, but I will walk with you until you find your own.
