I reached the point during my last depression crash where I was desperate for some relief. My medication had not really been working for me anymore and I was already on the maximum dose. I was disturbed by some of the intrusive thoughts I was experiencing. I pushed myself - more like dragged- to open up about this with my psychologist colleague, asking for psychiatry consult. It was a drag to the cliff and then a jump into the unknown. What I said was said. A new path of uncertainty, but possible hope, had just opened up.
Just before my appointment I said to myself, "I'm ready to leave this Gethsemane."
Gethsemane, referring to the Garden of Gethsemane, is the place where Jesus Christ prayed, taking upon him all of the sins and pains of the world. He too, asked for "the bitter cup" to be removed if possible. Gethsemane has been a symbol of grief, suffering, and darkness in many Christian writings. There's a hymn called, "Where Can I Turn for Peace?" by Emma Lou Thayne and there's a lyric that goes:
"He answers privately.
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend."
I was ready to leave this dark, heavy place.
One of the actual positive things to come out of depression is that I gained a better understanding of Christ's sacrifice. There is a scripture in the Book of Mormon that says,
"And He shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith He will take upon him the pains and sicknesses of His people...and he will take upon Him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor His people according to their infirmities." (Alma 7:11-12)
Jesus Christ had to come to Earth, in a body capable of feeling pain, hunger, and fatigue, to be able to experience every possible feeling that had been felt and will be felt. I don't know how he did this, especially in the culminating act of the night prior to His crucifixion. However, I did learn something about this.
I, in my own way and through the past several years that I have struggled with depression, was able in an extremely small way to develop a more empathetic heart to the struggles of others. While I know that the choices of others may not be in alignment with human laws or divine commandments, I learned how Christ, in his infinite love, can feel what someone is going through, and love that person as the child of God that they are.
I knew what it felt like to be frustrated with anhedonia (inability to feel emotion). I had this force field that would not allow any positive emotions to penetrate me. I missed laughing. I just wanted to feel something. One morning I came to the realization that I could understand why some people addicted to drugs seek them out prior to it becoming a physical addiction. I remember thinking to myself, "Man, if only I could legally get high without ruining my career." Some people seek that physical high to be able to feel something they deem as positive, and sometimes they seek the refuge of drugs or alcohol to find calmness or to dull their pain. I remember feeling such sympathy upon hearing about the suicide of Robin Williams, the struggle that he had with his mental health as he fought the devastating onset of dementia. I could relate to the feeling of losing one's mind - how scary that it is - and observe its progressive nature without a feeling of hope for recovery. I could find some similarity between myself and a woman who struggles with depression and makes poor decisions in regards to intimacy and morality. They find someone who finds pleasure in their existence - in their body - when they themselves struggle with finding pleasure in their own existence. Humility, empathy, and love is what I learned. Seeing someone a little better through God's perspective - loving the child and not seeing them just for the choices they make. It's a hard price to learn such a lesson, but I find it as something positive as a product of adversity.
It was a short stroll through Gethsemane for me, but I know I will return again and again. It's the nature of chronic illness. I will return multiple times and sometimes I will be with someone as they walk through their own Gethsemane. Hopefully they will not have to walk that garden path alone.
Just before my appointment I said to myself, "I'm ready to leave this Gethsemane."
Gethsemane, referring to the Garden of Gethsemane, is the place where Jesus Christ prayed, taking upon him all of the sins and pains of the world. He too, asked for "the bitter cup" to be removed if possible. Gethsemane has been a symbol of grief, suffering, and darkness in many Christian writings. There's a hymn called, "Where Can I Turn for Peace?" by Emma Lou Thayne and there's a lyric that goes:
"He answers privately.
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend."
I was ready to leave this dark, heavy place.
One of the actual positive things to come out of depression is that I gained a better understanding of Christ's sacrifice. There is a scripture in the Book of Mormon that says,
"And He shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith He will take upon him the pains and sicknesses of His people...and he will take upon Him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor His people according to their infirmities." (Alma 7:11-12)
Jesus Christ had to come to Earth, in a body capable of feeling pain, hunger, and fatigue, to be able to experience every possible feeling that had been felt and will be felt. I don't know how he did this, especially in the culminating act of the night prior to His crucifixion. However, I did learn something about this.
I, in my own way and through the past several years that I have struggled with depression, was able in an extremely small way to develop a more empathetic heart to the struggles of others. While I know that the choices of others may not be in alignment with human laws or divine commandments, I learned how Christ, in his infinite love, can feel what someone is going through, and love that person as the child of God that they are.
I knew what it felt like to be frustrated with anhedonia (inability to feel emotion). I had this force field that would not allow any positive emotions to penetrate me. I missed laughing. I just wanted to feel something. One morning I came to the realization that I could understand why some people addicted to drugs seek them out prior to it becoming a physical addiction. I remember thinking to myself, "Man, if only I could legally get high without ruining my career." Some people seek that physical high to be able to feel something they deem as positive, and sometimes they seek the refuge of drugs or alcohol to find calmness or to dull their pain. I remember feeling such sympathy upon hearing about the suicide of Robin Williams, the struggle that he had with his mental health as he fought the devastating onset of dementia. I could relate to the feeling of losing one's mind - how scary that it is - and observe its progressive nature without a feeling of hope for recovery. I could find some similarity between myself and a woman who struggles with depression and makes poor decisions in regards to intimacy and morality. They find someone who finds pleasure in their existence - in their body - when they themselves struggle with finding pleasure in their own existence. Humility, empathy, and love is what I learned. Seeing someone a little better through God's perspective - loving the child and not seeing them just for the choices they make. It's a hard price to learn such a lesson, but I find it as something positive as a product of adversity.
It was a short stroll through Gethsemane for me, but I know I will return again and again. It's the nature of chronic illness. I will return multiple times and sometimes I will be with someone as they walk through their own Gethsemane. Hopefully they will not have to walk that garden path alone.
