This is an illness that I did not ask for...

Healing.

For the last year of my life I have been living in a shell of myself. I have been living under demons and darkness that I cannot begin to describe to you. It has been my own personal version of hell. And I am surprised that I am still here honestly. I am surprised that I am still alive and living to tell you my tale.

I grew up in a very traditional Christian church. Sinning is bad, God hates sins, you must repent or you won't go to heaven, make sure you pray for God to forgive you every night in case you die in your sleep. I learned that all my problems had to be solved by praying and reading the Bible. If I was sad, I must not be in God's Word enough, here is a scripture that will fix how you are feeling. Are you anxious? Well you must have more faith in God, because the Bible says that is wrong.

No one ever told me these things out loud, but the messages were clear. "I am going through a really rough time." "Oh well then let me pray with you." Pray, cry a little, pretend to feel better cause God instantly made you happy again, go about pretending that was the magic prayer that healed everything.

Don't get me wrong, I love God and I love praying. But it is not a vending machine of Happy Meals that put a smile on your face and make everything peachy keen again.

When I hit my depression, I literally didn't talk to anyone about it. Because they would think that I wasn't trusting God enough. That I wasn't praying and reading my Bible or having a "good enough" relationship with Christ.

If someone in the church has cancer, do we simply pray and expect that to be the end of it? Do we think that the struggle will instantly be over once a prayer is said and a verse is shared? No! We pray for peace of mind and healing for them and when that prayer is over we offer support and help and love. We bring food and help clean and try to be helpful in that person's life. We encourage them to see a doctor and get treatment and stay by their side when that treatment kicks their butt.

So why is it different with mental illness?

Why do we treat this differently? Is it because you can't see my side effects? Is it because you think that it can be solved with a little bit of Jesus and some holy water?

Don't get me wrong, a little bit of Jesus goes a LONG way!!

But you wouldn't shame someone for having cancer... So why do you shame them for depression, anxiety disorders, bi-polar, etc.??

This is an illness. And I did not ask for it.

And trust me, I have BEGGED God time and time again to take this away from me. Do you think that I want to feel this way? Do you think that I want to wrestled this on a daily basis?

In the same way that I would never ask for cancer I would never ask for depression or anxiety.

They are an illness.

And I have started referring to them as such.

My illness.

My illness.

Illness.

Depression is an illness.

It is just as real as a broken bone and no less your fault or completely up to you to fix.

You didn't ask for it. You can't stop it.

Yes, you can pray about it. No, that won't necessarily fix it.

This might be the thorn in your side that you will have to carry the rest of your life.

You may ask God to take it away every single day until you die.

And He might, but He might not.

It is genetic. It is triggered by things outside of yourself. You did not cause it. You cannot magically fix it. It cannot be ignored.

If you are on medication and a Christian, there is a huge blanket of shame over you. A HUGE blanket of shame.

One that I am peeking my head out from underneath.

I am trying to be open.

Yes, I have a mental illness.

I have been diagnosed with Severe Depression and was put on Prozac to help me cope. This triggered my anxiety into hyperactive mode causing me to also have a standing prescription for Xanax.

These are illnesses. They are not something that I caused. They are not something that I asked for. They are simply a fact in my life. It is no different than me saying that I have cancer, or a broken bone, or am diabetic.

I have come to terms with the fact that I will be dealing with this for the rest of my life. I will be fighting the battle against my mental illness for a long while.

And this is nothing to be ashamed of.

I have not let down God. I have not disappointed Him. I have not sinned by taking medication. I have not fallen from grace because I chose to get help more than praying and reading my Bible.

God made my brain.

He knows that it can be flawed.

He knows that something is not right in the cellular structure.

He has given science the knowledge to help me survive.

This is an illness. I did not ask for it. I wish I did not have it.

But it is just an illness. It does not define me.

It is not my fault.