I had a bout with depression this fall. I ignored it. Shockingly, ignoring it did not make it magically go away. I down played it. Also a poor choice. It is hard to tell someone it is not a big deal when you are sobbing uncontrollably over the milk on the floor (you are literally crying over spilled milk.) So I prayed that the Lord would lift the fog. Some would say I did not pray loud enough or hard enough. I did not want the anxiety gone badly enough. So I did what I was once instructed to do. I named, I claimed it, I believed it and received it.
I named it, with the help of my family telling me this was not okay, I did not have to live like this. This thing I was feeling, the way I was going about life, it was depression. I was depressed. It was a chemical imbalance, a physical misfire. Just like the glasses I put on my face to correct my vision before I can drive safely, I needed a correction in the way I was perceiving life and coping with it. I did not have to live in a world that was cloudy and gray all the time. It was unacceptable to live with anxiety chasing you down.
I claimed it. This depression, it was mine. I had fought the battle before and it was time to fight it again. It is one thing to say “Some people struggle with depression, and it doesn’t make their faith less, and it doesn’t make them less.” and another to own it saying “I struggle with depression, and that doesn’t make me less of a christian, and it doesn’t make me less of a person.”
I believed it, the idea that God can help you in all different ways and sometimes medical intervention is the way He chooses to intervene, and that isn’t bad or less, it just is the way God works sometimes. I believed that being healed by a pill did not negate my belief in miraculous healing, I believed I was not believing in a lesser God if I tried medicine to make the anxiety go away.
I received it. I went to GNC and bought a bottle of herbal supplements for 18 dollars a bottle. I received the second bottle for half off. I forgot my supplements when I flew to New York for my Grandfather’s funeral and received the blessing of an over the counter solution for sale in every town in America. I receive three tablets of St. John’s wart in the kitchen after work, the Peanut asking me if I am taking my gummies every day. I receive the support of my family, check ups from my sister, my mom, my husband occasional inquiries have I been taking my meds.
I named the depression, claimed it as my own, I believed in the healing and receive it every day after work. Hallelujah. To God be the glory.
*As with all my posts about depression, I am only writing about what works for me. It is a slippery little beast, but nothing to be ashamed of. Don’t just try what works for me, go talk to your doctor about how to help you.