God, Depression, and Me

#365days #365daysof31
The depression has returned. Silent and stalking, it crept up on me even though I was keeping an eye out, in spite of already seeing a therapist each week. Its weight pressed down and down upon me, until, eleven months after my son’s birth, I desperately booked myself an appointment with my OB/GYN to beg for anti-depressants.
She prescribed them. I drove straight from her office to the pharmacy to pick them up. My therapist later endorsed my being medicated for depression and anxiety. And – I didn’t swallow a single pill for another month.

I don’t know many people who are eager to take medication, especially for those “invisible” psychological needs. And in the church there is often a peculiar bias against mental unhealth, an implicit or explicit message of “If you had enough faith, depression would not be an issue.”

But it is an issue. A very real issue. And sometimes, those of us who suffer from this or similar issues need a little help (or a lot of it).  And help can look like taking medication for a time, or maybe forever . . . .

I'm so thrilled to be writing  over at Thorns and Gold today, starting a conversation about anti-depressants, mental health, and faith.  I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

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