As the stresses and struggles of life accumulated I found that they began to eclipse the joy and happiness I had always enjoyed.  I lived for a long time in a fog of disillusionment, discouragement and disconnection with people I loved.  This is my story about depression and the process of finally finding light again.   My journey is personal and in some ways vulnerable, but I lived in darkness for so long I want to share hope that there is a way to feel happiness again; hang on.  This is my story.  At the end I give some helpful steps that set me on a course for healing.

Sunny Delight

As a young child, my mom used to call me her “sunny-delight.”  I grew up as an all-American girl in the suburbs of Chicago; my mom took me puddle jumping after it rained, and my Dad taught me to ride a two-wheeler without training

wheels. My family had a gaggle of girls and a boy at the end that my mom used to call the cherry on top.  We used to sit on the stairs and brush and style each other’s hair and exchange notes in little “mail boxes” on each other’s bedroom doors.  This was also a time when I began to recognize what God’s love felt like, and developed a deep conviction of his care and involvement in our lives.

My teen and college years in Colorado and Utah were also filled with sunshine and hope.  My mother used to tell me I was like her little hummel on the fireplace: pockets spread wide and filling them with new experiences.   I ran cross country, traveled to Africa to teach hygiene to children, sang in a Pentacostal gospel choir, and graduated with a degree in Fitness and Wellness Management from BYU.

As a young professional, my eyes were wide with idealism.  I helped create a wellness clinic for a sports medicine doctor, worked in the NICU of Primary

Children’s Hospital and ran the statewide wellness program for the American Heart Association.  Best of all, I fell in love and married a bow tie wearing diplomat.  Life was perfect.

 

Sunshine Begins to Dim

Sometimes even the sun goes dark.  The recent eclipse in the United States was a fascinating example of this.  A warm sunny day changed to a dark cold one in just a matter of minutes as the moon eclipsed the sun.  It’s light never never actually changed, but it was  covered up and no one could feel the light and warmth it characteristically gave off.
Over time, despite the abun

dant blessings in our life—the sunshine in my life began to be eclipsed.  We moved frequently for work and graduate school. The frequent moving and isolation from family took a toll.  I began to feel less bright and happy, and more tired and irritable.    Problems seemed bigger and answers seemed more significant and weighty.  I cried a lot.

Sometimes I would create “harry problems”, as my husband called them, that had no good solution and then I’d analyze and over analyze and swirl myself downward into misery. No matter what solution I found—nothing felt right.   I had a difficult time making simple decisions like what to do with my free time.  I ruminated on conversations with friends and worried about things I’d said or didn’t say.  All of this mental drama weighed me down.

It was confusing.  I had wonderful days too, and every time I thought about my life it seemed so amazing; nothing seemed wrong per-se.  Of course I had stresses, but it didn’t seem like more than anyone else had.  I tried harder to count my blessings, and focus on the positive. I kept telling myself I SHOULD be happy. I need to try harder.

Borrowing Light

I remember calling my mother one day and pouring out my heartache; I was sitting on a park bench in Boston sobbing.  She gently mentioned she thought I might have some depression. She had suffered from depression, and she must have recognized it in me.  She was a hero to me.  In a time when depression was hardly well known and certainly not widely understood or normalized, she discovered and identified that she was not coping well.  She sought treatment with medication and counseling, and was able to largely heal through these and through the atonement.

As the realization began to settle in that I might have “depression,” I resisted it. My brain found plenty of evidence to show how I had lots of happy days, I was fine, and how I had lots of normal excuses to account for how I was doing.  However as I began to look at who I had become and how I felt and interacted compared to who I had been and how I had felt and interacted most of my life, it became clear that something was not healthy.

Recognizing that I was at a vulnerable place, my mother took a plane to Boston and spent a week with me.  I will forever be thankful to her for that tremendous gift of her love and nurturing through a critical juncture in my life.  The first thing she did was have me take a depression and anxiety evaluation.  She explained that this would help me determine if I was indeed depressed or anxious or both—and how severe.  While it might not be a perfect measurement, it would give me a decent idea if I should pursue treatment and help in that direction.   My scores were severe in both depression and anxiety.

I was shocked.  I didn’t feel like the embodiment of what I had pictured someone with severe depression like.  Accepting this label took a lot of humility, but it was also freeing to know that there was a reason for my feelings and behavior beyond my own character flaws!  Knowing there was a diagnosis also gave me hope that there could be treatment.  My mother’s example was a huge inspiration to me.

My mother suggested I begin some medication–even temporarily that might help me get to a place I could think more clearly and change some of my patterns.  I wasn’t anxious to put things in my body that I didn’t absolutely need.  I thought counseling would be a better first step.  I had 5-6 visits with one therapist and found that I was more of a mess after going, and there didn’t seem to be much help or hope on the horizon working with him. I tried two other therapists thinking maybe it was just not the right personality match, but ended up feeling a bit disenchanted with counseling in general.

I began reading a book called, The Feeling Good Handbook by David Burns. David Burns was a pioneer in the field of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, a highly successful therapist and a professor at Stanford.  He wrote the first lay handbook for patients about how to begin to recognize some of our unhealthy thinking patterns—and learn how to untwist them.  I was fascinated as I read with some of the distorted filters and inaccurate thinking patterns I recognized in myself.  Becoming aware of my own distorted thinking was helpful.  I seemed to get to a better coping spot but I certainly wasn’t thriving.  I wasn’t really sure what else to do.  So, I just kept limping along emotionally the best I knew how. All this time, I don’t think most people around me knew anything was wrong.  To people not close to me, I looked like the essence of happiness.

Darkness Growing

Soon we found that we were expecting our first daughter.  We were thrilled!  We prepared a place for her and welcomed her with great excitement.  I had always looked forward to motherhood, but I often found myself stressed about doing things “right.”  I worried about nipple confusion, sleep training, and tummy time.  I tried to read all the books and exhausted myself trying to be the “perfect mom.”

My baby did not sleep well and I was exhausted.  After 9 months of sleep deprivation and with hormones ebbing and flowing, I slipped into a deeper depression.  I remember stomping to the baby’s room, angry she was up again. I would feed her, only to be awakened again a few hours later.  I was a zombie during the day.   My brain kept telling me I should be happy.  But I felt numb, and miserable.  I remember watching friends with their babies.  They seemed to find joy in their little movements and progress.  I felt like day and night were one long exercise in endurance.  I continued to slog through every day and night—what else could I do?   Slowly the sunshine and happiness I had experienced much of my life was largely darkened.

I was a ball of negativity.  I frequently complained about all the “hard” things in my life whenever I was with my husband or friends or family.  I’m sure I was miserable to be with.  Frankly I didn’t even enjoy being with myself.  I remember my husband coming home from work and saying he wished we could enjoy having fun together in the evenings instead of debriefing on all the hard things and slogging through the tasks of life.   I knew he was right.  I wanted to have fun as a family too–honestly I didn’t know how.   l remember one night we made a desperate attempt to “enjoy” family time.  We sat in the family room and rolled a ball around with the baby.  It felt so awkward.

My threshold for frustration or aberration was very low.  I was frustrated with anything that made my life even a little harder—having to change an extra diaper, hitting traffic, picking my husband up from work.    I didn’t feel like myself, and I knew it.  I knew I probably still had some depression, but a also assumed most new mothers felt this way.

Life kept happening.  Over the next 10 years, we moved many times—sometimes internationally.  While this was exciting, it was challenging to be away from family and adjust to new cultures.  See Mental Gardening.  We had 4 daughters; each of which was such a blessing.  However, with hormone fluctuations, lack of sleep and some colicky babies I ended up with some post-partum depression after each of them. Some of my children struggled with anxiety and other health issues. See  All Things Brave and Beautiful: Finding Peace in Difficulty.  My mother struggled with Ovarian Cancer and passed away.  See Hope Is The Thing: Getting Through  Grief.  My Dad remarried and we got a new step-family.   we were glad my Dad could have a new companion, but it took time to adjust to a new “normal.”  Meanwhile there was dinner, diapers, kid’s homework, church responsibilities, exercising

and additionally, the stresses of living internationally—bleaching all our produce, foreign languages and culture, living far from family, and constant change.  Many of these things were wonderful but most were challenging too.  During this time I ebbed and flowed in my emotional health, was never really healthy.

Eclipse of Light

As the stress piled up, I got lower and lower emotionally.  My burdens felt too heavy– I began to feel like a victim of life.   There were good moments, there were good days.   However, those became much fewer and farther between.  In the midst of my pain, I blamed my circumstances, I blamed the people around me, I blamed myself.  The blame began to sabotage my relationships, my self-respect, and snuffed out any last sparks of joy I felt.  Slowly I felt the last rays of sun in my life go dark.  For me it was just about a total eclipse.

One of the worst parts was that in the midst of my emotional heaviness, it was much more difficult to feel God’s love.  I couldn’t feel the spirit directing me very well, and without the nourishing help of God, I often felt particularly alone and in darkness.

As my life went dark,  I felt trapped.  I felt like I would always feel this way.  It felt hopeless.  I felt like nothing I did really helped much.  Everything felt heavy and hardI felt numb.  I felt resentful and angry a lot of the time. I endured because I had to, but didn’t feel much joy.  And, to add insult to injury I was discouraged because I wasn’t showing up as the mother, wife, friend, daughter and sister I wanted to be.  That added more layers of sadness and depression.

Even simple tasks felt overwhelming.  Opening the curtains in the morning felt too hard.  I remember taking my kids to ride bicycles in the back yard felt so monumental.  We lived in an apartment building, and getting in and out of the elevator and going through 2 sets of glass doors felt too hard.  I would dread and avoid anything that might be hard or add more load to my already heavy one.  Decisions were difficult.  I couldn’t think clearly.  My head was clouded with worry about what others thought.  I replayed conversations over and over in my mind worrying about what I should have said or not said.

Night after night my husband listened to the awfulness of the day and all the hard things.  He was a saint.  Looking back, I realize I wanted someone to understand how much pain I felt and how heavy it was to carry.  He listened and validated and tried to help.  But even he had his limits.  I remember him gently saying one night—I’d love to talk about something besides just how hard everything is sometimes.  I constantly felt resentful that no one seemed to understand.  It was beginning to affect every aspect of my life—my health, my sleep, my marriage, my mothering, my friendships, my extended family relationships and my day to day functioning.  Even with all this, I think most people just thought I was sort of a negative person.  I don’t think most people outside my close circle of friends and family would have known the suffering I was experiencing every day.  I knew I needed to do something.

Dumping the Darkness

Finally, out of desperation I tried the only thing I knew to do—I called a therapist again.  This time I found an amazing therapist.  For almost a year I talked to her every week and word vomited everything that was “hard” and that made me feel anxious and discouraged.  She listened, and helped me identify the things causing the most pain.  She empathized and helped me extract so many emotions that had been shoved inside for such a long time.  Verbalizing and recognizing my pain allowed me to externalize them…to get them to a place that I could look at them, evaluate them, and even let go, change or mourn them instead of being controlled by them.  This was essential.  I couldn’t deal with them when they were inside floating around under my consciousness.

As I began to unload all of this darkness I been shrouded with—I began to feel lighter.  I began to have more space in my life for light.  The more darkness I extracted, the more space there was available for light.  It was almost as if I needed a space to place all my pain.  This therapist was that place for me.

Burgeoning of Light

After several months, my therapist recommended that I begin taking medication for depression.  She said she felt it would help me get to a healthier place where I could begin to feel and think differently.  I resisted at first.  I was feeling a bit better after getting out so much pain.   I thought I could heal without meds.

One day, I was talking to my friend.  She had experienced depression and anxiety and was telling me about someone she knew who was depressed but refused to take meds.  She said something that resonated so deeply with me at the time that I will never forget.  She said, “It is really irresponsible to herself and everyone around her NOT to take meds.” I had never thought of it that way before.  I decided I wanted to try medication.  My therapist reminded me it could be a temporary thing—and that often people who get on meds make progress more quickly.

A few weeks on meds and I was amazed.  I started feeling brighter and happier.  I noticed I didn’t snap at my children quite as quickly.  I wasn’t quite as irritated by things.  I remember being able to sit on the couch and not feel stressed that I should get up and do something “productive.”  I also started feeling the spirit again.  I remember thinking, “This is the old me!”   I had thought the old me–the one who had filled her pockets with every experience and loved the wind blowing on my face riding my banana seat bike was gone.  I wasn’t really gone.  I had just been so weighed down and sad that that I could not feel or be who I had always been.

(Medication is not the only means of healing and is not the correct route for everyone with depression.  For me it was a critical element of my healing for a time.  Looking back I regret waiting 10 years to finally try it.)

I felt like the sun peeked out again from behind the moon and shed a little light in my soul.  Hope felt so glorious—maybe I wouldn’t have to feel depressed forever!

Becoming Brighter

As the sunshine began to filter in slowly, I was able to see a little more clearly.  I didn’t feel quite so wound up inside and decisions didn’t seem to be so painful.  I wasn’t as irritated and I didn’t see things in such a negative light.  As I saw things differently, I felt happier and more calm and I showed up more positive and more loving to the people around me. Small successes built on each other and while I often fell back in the ditch, I was able to pick myself up and keep going.
I had been doing therapy for about a year and felt a lot better.  I had gotten out lots of the darkness, and there was room for more light.  However, I felt I still had a long way to go in changing the way I thought and felt and acted to stay in a better place.  I remember one day asking my counselor, “I feel like I’ve gotten a lot of the junk out, now what? What do a I do with it?  How do I change the way I think so that I don’t keep putting more junk in?  How I can stay emotionally healthy?”  I was ready and excited to move forward.  I was stunned when she said, “Well, I don’t know.  I’ve used all the tools I have to offer—I don’t really have anything else to offer you.”  I was so disappointed.

Therapy had certainly served an important purpose for me.  It helped me identify and verbalize all the junk that caused me pain, but hadn’t really helped me know what to do with it all.  Many studies actually show that patients who do extended therapy can get worse simply by ruminating over and over on their difficulties when therapists don’t have the skills or the courage to help clients move beyond them after they have sufficiently processed them.

Coasting

I wasn’t sure where to turn next.  I was feeling good-enough to function and frankly I was exhausted from a year of emotional heavy lifting.  For the next few years, I coasted emotionally.  I didn’t do much digging or healing—I just ambled along and tried to enjoy the better state of being.  On my meds, and with some of the junk out, I established some better patterns with my children and my husband—even with friends and extended family.  I enjoyed things more and could laugh and joke and find joy in life.  I began to put my own self-respect back together. Since I felt less overwhelmed, I was able to exercise, eat healthier, enjoy better friendships and contribute in my church responsibilities.  Perhaps best of all was my ability to feel God’s spirit and power in my life returned. The divine flow helped guide and craft my healing.

 

I tried a few times to get off meds, thinking I was doing better.  But every time my dose was decreased, the depression returned full force.  This told me that I hadn’t really addressed the cause of my depression yet.  In fact, I could feel my meds becoming slowly less effective.  My doctor gradually increased the meds, but I noticed side effects at the higher dosages. I gained weight.  I felt numb and not compassionate sometimes. Some of my old patterns of unhealthy thinking even started to emerge.

Choosing Light

I remember one significant moment during this time.  I was out shopping and was chatting on my cell with someone.  I was sharing all the hard things about a particular situation. As I was going on and on, the spirit brought a very specific phrase to my mind.  “Choose happiness.”  I was confused.  Who wouldn’t choose happiness?  If I could feel happy, I would—of course.  So, why would we need to choose it.  After all, it wasn’t like there was a pallet of emotions around me and I purposely selected “frustrated,” or “overwhelmed.”  Or did I?

At the same time, the spirit brought my evening conversations with my husband to mind.  Whenever I told him about the day, I focused on all the negative things that had happened. I told him how hard the kids were or how frustrating the traffic was or how awkward a conversation was with someone that day.  There were plenty of wonderful things that happened too, but because the negative things bothered me, those were what I tended to share.  The spirit gently suggested that I try focusing on the positive things that had happened during the day—and only sharing those.  Choosing happy.  It took a lot of courage and self-restraint at first to share the happy and omit the negative.  However, I began to notice that I saw my life differently when I described and focused on the positive.

I began to feel stirrings that there was more healing to be done; more changes I needed to make.

Seeking Divine Light

Along my journey I came across a talk entitled, “Christ Centered Healing From Depression,” given by Carrie Wrigley.     She is a therapist who spoke at an Education Week at BYU regarding healing from Depression and Low Self Worth.

I confess at first, I was a bit skeptical. While I have deep faith, I had suffered with depression for over 10 years, and I knew first hand that praying more and serving more and painting on a smile didn’t do much to lift the shroud of darkness that covered me.

However, I also knew that God was ultimately the source of light and healing.  I recognized that God had sent many tender mercies to me in form of friends, books, ideas and help.  I suppose I thought that WAS the way he healed us.  However, there was part of me that believed his healing could do more.  I just wasn’t sure how to access his healing power.

Carrie Wrigley discusses research surrounding the effectiveness of many therapeutic methods, use of medication and her experience as a practitioner seeing patients and not seeing many change long-term and how to compelled her to search for how to really help her patients heal and change.

As she searched and studied, she discovered how to help patients access the atonement in their healing.  The atonement makes us into a new creature.  She explained that one way God helps us become a new creature is by changing the way we think.  Our thoughts create how we feel, how we feel drives how we act and how we act creates the result in our lives.  So one of the ways God helps form us into who he wants us to be is by helping us change the way we think, and the way we see things.  I was fascinated by this idea.  I began praying that God would help me learn how to change my thinking.

One day as I was on Face Book I came across an ad that said, “What if you could feel happy most of the time and overwhelmed sometimes instead of the other way around?”  I was intrigued.  I clicked on the link and discovered a life coach named, Jody Moore.  I began listening to her podcasts and finding my mind was challenged and opened in new ways

Over the course of the next year, I began to learn how to re-set my mind to think differently—and much more healthfully.  I enrolled in a life coaching program.  I learned several tools and did a lot of personal emotional work that did a complete emotional makeover on my brain.  I learned how to identify the thoughts that were driving my depression and change them.  I learned how to recognize and process difficult emotions instead of acting out on them, or suppressing them.  I learned that I spent a lot of effort avoiding emotions by eating, shopping, listening to audiobooks or watching Netflix.  I began to feel a positive momentum building.  I was feeling better, my relationships were totally different and more positive.  I was able to hand overwhelm and difficulty better.  I could be more of who I wanted to be.

God guided me through an amazing process has helped and continues to help me become a “new creature.”   I have changed so much inside I am unrecognizable to myself.  The spirit began to help put new thoughts in my mind.  I think and interact in a whole new way.  I am an up-leveled version of myself—even better than the original “old me.”  I feel joy! My life feels full of light.

Living in Sunlight

As my brain has changed, I have been able to work off my meds slowly.  This has been an important indication that finally the source of my depression is being addressed.  I don’t dwell on conversations, I don’t take forever to make decisions, I don’t feel constantly overwhelmed and wallow in self-pity.  I don’t constantly worry about being “productive.”  My relationships are deepening, my brain fog has cleared, and I feel like I show up more often like the kind of person I want to be. Instead of having a head full of overwhelm and stress, it is full of more compassion, desire to help others and mostly full of joy!

One of the things I discovered was how essential darkness is.  God made the light and the dark.  There is darkness almost 50 percent of the time on earth.  Without darkness, it would be difficult to sleep, it would get hot, there would be no natural separation of days, and  it would be tempting to keep working, or playing instead of taking a break.  We wouldn’t appreciate the light.  We must have both to understand the other.

I realized the same was true for my emotions.  God created opposition in all things;  we are meant to experience difficult emotions a large portion of the  time. The tension of opposites is what gives joy and happiness it’s meaning and it’s value.

Knowing darkness or difficult emotions are important made me less afraid of them.  Knowing how to process them and how to move past them has given me confidence that I don’t have to be controlled by difficult emotion.  Now I can accept them and let them go more often. This allows me to let go of them instead of storing the emotion and being controlled by them.  I know there is more light ahead.

Sharing My Light

Having lived in darkness for so many years and not knowing how to climb out, I feel deep compassion for people who live in the dark night of the soul—even partial darkness.  I know it is painful and heavy.  I heard someone say once that each of us bears the mark of the pain we’ve felt.  It becomes like a secret code that binds us to others who bear the same mark.  I am so deeply grateful for all of the people who have helped to uncover my light and I want to share the joy of light with anyone who may be suffering.  That is part of the reason I am writing this blog.

Over the years, many people have asked me where to even start when they feel depressed.  Each person’s journey is unique.  I would never begin to think that I could tell someone else how to heal or recover from their own individual difficulties.  I have listed the steps that have helped me in my journey; I hope they will be helpful to others in some way.  There is so much happiness where light is–and it’s possible.  If you are in a dark place, hang on.  There is light ahead.

Uncover the Light Again

1.  Trust yourself
If you notice that you don’t feel yourself, believe yourself.  Don’t just keep pushing through.  Slow down and observe yourself.  Just because you have good days doesn’t mean you aren’t depressed or anxious.

2. Take a Depression/Anxiety Test
If you have become someone you don’t recognize, and don’t like, consider taking a depression scale test.  This can give you an idea if it’s something you need to address, and how severe you may be.  Here is a Depression Test that could serve as a good starting point.

3. Dump the dark  (Counseling and medication may be helpful tools to consider)
An important part of healing is getting the dark out in a place you can see it, address it and change it if needed. Shedding light on things often takes away the power of difficult things.  Counseling is an excellent way to do this as therapists can help to draw out pain points.

Sometimes meds can be helpful in getting you to a place that you can see more clearly and function better.  It’s sometimes difficult to change patterns of thinking and acting when they are deeply ingrained and the feelings causing the behavior are so raw and difficult.  They are not the right course of action for everyone however.  Remember meds can be temporary.

Both counseling and medication can be particularly helpful in high moderate to severe depression.  More mild depression may be able to be addressed differently.  Methods such as journaling or talking with a confidant can be helpful in unloading pain as well.

4. Choose to Let in the Light
Once the brain knows the pathways that lead to depression, it’s easy to fall back into old patterns.  It requires a deliberate decision to “choose happy.” The minute we  allow ourselves to take even a step into the quicksand of self pity and wo, we get sucked down. Sometimes we  unknowingly feel that there are benefits to feeling depressed or anxious and it’s hard to fully heal when we still “want” in some ways to feel this way. It may sound  strange, as no one would “choose” to feel this way, but sometimes making a list of advantages and disadvantages of depression or anxiety can help us discover our own resistance. This was helpful for me.

5.  Get Help Changing Your Brain
Once you are in a stable emotional place, it is time to begin a brain remodel.  If we continue thinking and acting the way we always have, it is likely we will relapse into depression or anxiety again.  There are many ways to learn to think differently.

Life Coaching is one fantastic source of this type of brain work.  A therapist who does Cognitive Behavioral Therapy or Dialectical Behavioral Therapy can also be helpful.  Sometimes hospitals or colleges offer groups that discuss important principles.  Bibliotherapy can be highly effective as well.  No matter how you choose, the change will come from actually observing yourself, writing down what you observe and making changes to your thoughts.

A great book to get started with is, The Feeling Good Handbook by David Burns

One of my favorite podcasts that has helped me make these types of changes is:

The Life Coach School, Brooke Castillo

6.  Share Your Light
Sharing your new found tools and hope is often the ray of hope someone else needs to know they won’t be in a dark place forever. As we reach out to share and help our own light grows.