Why depression being misunderstood in the church, caused me to leave

Most people know that I left the church for several years about halfway through high school until about 5 and 1/2 years ago when I finally came back.  I often talk about the time I spent away, and I talk even more about how I came back; but I don't often talk about what pushed me away.  Today, I'm going too.

I've suffered with depression for about as long as I can remember, but it started to get a lot worse in middle and high school.  I was frustrated.  Church wise, I was doing everything I was supposed too- I was reading my scriptures, saying my prayers, going to church and young women's, I finished the young women's personal progress before I was a Mia Maid (they had just made changes to the program, allowing you to finish before you were 18.)  I was going to Seminary and doing everything else I thought I was supposed to, but my depression continued, and it continued to get worse.  From the things that I had been told in church, I thought it was all my fault.  I couldn't figure out what major sin I had committed that would cause such despair and anguish.  Everyone around me at church, including leaders, were telling me things like ---
                                          "You just need to pray more"
                                          "You need to be more spiritual"
                                          "You need to be more worthy"
                                          "You're not doing something right"
                                          "Just believe more"
                                          "If you just ask, Heavenly Father will make it go away"
                                           Among many other things
These things were being continually thrown in my face.  It got to the point, where I believed it.  I didn't understand a lot about depression at the time, despite having suffered from it for a long time.  I believed that it was all my fault, that I wasn't worthy enough for Heavenly Father to care about to make it go away, that it was my fault I couldn't make it go away etc etc etc.  Eventually, I pushed away from the church, I couldn't find myself to believe in anything I had been taught there anymore.  At the time, I was in high school and it was the same time my brother was also pulling away from the church.  I know that hurt my mom, so to try to spare some of her feelings, I didn't "officially" pull away until after high school.  Until then, I simply went through the motions.

After about 4 or 5 years away, I slowly made my way back to church; a lot of things happened to get me there until it was like Heavenly Father was hitting me over the head with a 2x4 or something.  At that point, I had started learning more about my depression and other things I suffered with (and still continue to learn.)  As soon as I came back, I began looking on Deseret Books for books that would help me understand depression better in relation to the church.  I found this book called "Matters of the Mind: Latter-day Saint Helps for Mental Illness"  (you can find it on Deseretbook.com here if you're interested.  It covers several different mental illnesses, not just depression).  This book was a great help in helping me understand more about the role my depression has in my life, and in the gospel.  It was especially helpful when it explained that not being able to feel the Spirit sometimes (or often times) is common, and isn't a result of anything I'm doing.  It came down to knowing that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ could hear me, but I couldn't hear them.  I have since learned that that is when I should ask for a Priesthood blessing.  My darkest times are when I need to be able to feel the Spirit the most, and that's usually when I can't feel it at all; receiving a Priesthood blessing allows the Spirit and Heavenly Father to go around that depression, and communicate with me through someone else.

In this month's Ensign, there is a wonderful article about depression.  (For anyone who doesn't know, the Ensign is a spiritual magazine geared towards adults produced by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints).  The article is by a woman who didn't even know she had depression at first, and felt a lot of the same things that I also felt in regards to the church.  She points out something very important in the article

Understanding that there are spiritual side effects from depression is important for Latter-day Saints dealing with their own depression or that of loved ones. Depression, in all forms, alters perception, making it difficult to feel peace, love, joy, or any of the fruits of the Spirit. It becomes easy to misinterpret sorrow as condemnation by God, thus causing spiritual struggles and sometimes inactivity in the Church. This may cause further distress for individuals and families facing this challenge. 

It is essential to understand that such a spiritual crisis is not a result of spiritual weakness or lack of faith. Rather, depressive feelings and the resulting depressed view of one’s spirituality are usually caused by a chemical imbalance.

 She also quotes a talk Elder Jeffrey R Holland gave a couple of years ago in conference called "Like a Broken Vessel" which is another great source of helping others to understand depression better in the church.

I'm sad to say that there are still times I'm told some of those things from above.  I know that most of the time, people have somewhat good intentions when they say things like what has been/is said to me, so I try really hard not to get mad or frustrated.  But at the same time, I'm not going to lie, it's just to INFURIATING!  I know it just comes from ignorance and a lack of understanding, but the stigma in the church (and out of the church) can be really hard to deal with.  Things like depression, anxiety, OCD, etc etc are illness, they are MENTAL ILLNESSES, just like diabetes, cancer, and heart disease.  You would certainly not walk up to someone who has been diagnosed with cancer and say things like "you just need to pray more", "just try harder", "just believe more" etc etc.  NO!  If they aren't getting treatment yet, you would be encouraging them to see their doctor, to start treatment, to fight.  Just because it's harder to see, doesn't make mental illness any less serious than a physical one.  I'm going to finish this blog off with a little "cartoon" that demonstrates my point quite well--- If physical illness were treated like mental illnesses are-

Battle Wounds

This is a very difficult post for me to write, and I'm trying to take my time writing it.  I hope I am able to convey everything the way I want to and in a way that people can understand.  This is the post that I have felt determined not to write, but something (the Spirit) keeps telling me that I need to.  So whether this is for me, or someone else, I'm writing it, but I am terrified to write it.  If anyone has any questions or needs someone to talk too, please feel free to contact me.  I hope that maybe this can help someone or help someone feel less alone.

***While I am not posting anything overly graphic, this may be a triggering post for some***

I have been in a war against depression for as long as I can remember; and, just like many others, I have battle wounds, and I'm really sick of being ashamed of this.

Sometime around the age of 13, I began hurting myself to deal with anything I was feeling.  This started after an episode of my favorite TV show, "DeGrassi: The Next Generation."  One of the reasons why this show was my favorite was because it dealt with a lot of hard topics: abortion, abuse, suicide, drugs, alcohol, rape, cutting etc etc etc, it was really easy to relate too and could make you feel a lot less alone.  In this particular episode, one of the characters had been having a really hard time: alcoholic and verbally abusive mother, trouble in school etc, to deal with it, she cut herself.  Now, the episode never actually showed her doing this, but they showed her thinking about it and they showed the scars on her harm.  At the end of the episode, she has a friend who helps her realize that she needs help and she starts to see somebody.

I didn't really think much of it when I first saw the episode, but I thought about it more and more in the weeks that followed.  I was dealing with depression, anxiety, and a number of other things and I wanted to feel better.  One day, I decided to see if it really would make me feel better...it did, at least temporarily.  This quickly became my way of coping and surviving, and it was the only way I knew how to cope, and has been my method ever since.

Throughout the years, I've only let a handful of people in regarding this; it's always incredibly hard to do and something I'm very cautious about.  Though not everyone that I've let in is still a part of my life, I'm grateful that they've all been supportive and caring while they were.  I've spent many years trying to hide this about myself from everyone else, though I didn't always have the energy to do so, or the energy to care about doing so.  Because of this, there were obviously other people who noticed, and I proceeded to lie about it to try to hide it.  I lied to my parents, teachers, guidance counselors at school and even my church leaders.  At one point, I had finally grown to trust my bishop and I had shared my struggles, but shortly after I finally started trusting, he was released.  I had a really hard time with this because I didn't trust or open up easily, so when the new bishop was called, I didn't even try to share.  But during a temple trip to do baptisms, my new bishop saw the cuts and called me into his office the next day at church and confronted me about it.  I didn't deal well with the confrontation, I barely knew him, and so I lied until he let me leave.  Looking back, I am aware that I likely didn't fool anybody, but at the time, I believed I had.

Hurting myself hasn't just been limited to cutting, but even burning and bruising.  I know this is a hard concept for a lot of people to understand; why would someone physically hurt themselves?  It's a coping mechanism, just like any other good or bad mechanism.  But it's also an addiction, just like drugs, alcohol, gambling etc, and it's an addiction I've really struggled with.  Sometimes I can go months without hurting myself, sometimes it's only weeks or days.  One time about 6 years ago, I had managed to make it two years without giving in, but one day, in a moment of desperation, I gave in again.

There are a lot of things I feel that drive me to this.  Many people believe that people who hurt themselves only do it for attention; let me assure you, this is not the case.  For the most part, a driving force for me is control.  As you know/have learned, I've struggled with depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember.  This isn't something I can control.  Even when nothing specific is "wrong", I'm still overwhelmed with darkness that I can't control.  When I hurt myself, that is a pain I can control.  It also creates a pain that is easier for me to understand.  I don't always understand what is going on in my head; hurting myself takes the mental/emotional pain, and makes it physical.  There is something there that I can see and understand.  I tried to come up with an analogy some time ago to help others understand, the best I could think of was comparing it to a bottle of soda that has been shaken.  Please imagine- you have a bottle of soda and have been shaking it for 5 minutes or more.  The pressure in the bottle has built up so much it seems like it might explode.  When you start to open it, even the smallest movement of the lid begins to release some of the pressure, the more you open it, the more pressure that is released.  That is what it feels like when I hurt myself, every time I act, it releases more and more of the pressure that has built up inside of me.

While this is something that I am trying to overcome, it is also the only coping method/way of surviving that I know.  My old therapist recognized this, and was very compassionate and understanding.  This was the thing I was most scared about sharing with my new therapist.  I've been on a number of support forums online throughout the years and I've heard some horror stories from people about their therapists, so I was terrified that my new therapist might be one of those stories.  I considered not answering when the question inevitably came up in our appointment, but when she was gathering information about my past/background and she asked if I ever hurt myself, I told her that yes, there was a history.  She then asked me if I thought it helped, and I told her that it sounded like a trick question, but that yes, it did.  She said it wasn't a trick question, that many people find that it's helpful and for many people, it's their way of surviving.  I'm grateful that she was understanding of this.  One of the goals we set in therapy was to learn other coping skills so that I don't have to rely on this.  Over the years, I have tried many things to try to cope, but it's an addiction, and I keep returning to it.  Of of the greatest things I have found to help is crocheting.  I'm not very good, but when I crochet, I keep my hands busy, and when I'm doing that, I'm not hurting myself.

Some day I will overcome this.  I'm still not sure why I was so prompted to write and share this, but I pray that maybe it will help someone.

New therapist---New plan

This blog is still something I'm unsure about, but something keeps telling me I just need to do it.  Much like the night I decided to set it up, apparently, there is some reason for me to do this blog, whether for me, or someone else (or both.)  I keep telling myself there are certain topics that I'm not going to bring up in here, but the impression I keep receiving is "No, you need to talk about those too, openly and honestly."  Those posts will take some time to write, but apparently I'll be writing those too :-/  Anyways...on to today---


Today I saw a new therapist.

Therapy has never been easy for me, and I've been in and out of therapy a lot of my life.  When I was younger (around 6th grade), my parents took me a psychologist for awhile, but I really didn't like him.  After awhile, I just stopped opening up during our sessions until he told my mom I didn't need to come anymore.  (At the time I thought I fooled him, looking back, it's more likely he saw what I was doing and realized it wasn't worth my parents time or money if I wasn't going to open up.)

Sometime in middle school (or early high school), supposedly my mom took me to see some person but I refused to talk and so the woman told my mom it wasn't worth it or something.  (I have no memory of this happening.)

Then, a few years ago, I finally decided to start on my own.  I really liked the first therapist I saw so I stuck with her.  Eventually, she was on maternity leave so I stopped seeing anyone until she came back.  When she came back, she had a limited schedule so I could only see her every so often.  Then there issues of being able to afford it, and insurance change with my moms job so it wasn't covered, then it all switched again so it was.  It's basically been a huge roller coaster.

A couple of months ago, I started toying with the thought of switching therapists.  While I loved my current therapist, I just didn't feel like I was really getting anything from it.  I mean, I would go in and talk, and that was good and all, but I didn't feel like I was working towards anything.  Then I turned 26 and lost my insurance coverage under my parents and my new insurance coverage wasn't accepted at her office anymore.  I could still see her, but the self-pay rate was $75, it didn't really seem worth it if I felt like it wasn't going anywhere.  So, it seemed like the choice was made, I was switching therapists.

I took the list of people who were covered, and started doing some research into who I might fit best with.  I narrowed it down to 6 and a close friend of mine gave some thoughts/input and I narrowed it down to 3.  I picked the one of the three that seemed the best fit and I made an appointment, which was this morning.  I was terrified.  I really didn't want to go, I didn't want to have rehash everything from my past, but I knew I would have to because it's stuff that still affects me, so to understand where I am now, it would be necessary to go through all that again.  In addition, there was a particular issue I was scared about being honest about (in theory, there will be a blog post about it eventually, it'll be one of the hardest ones I write.)  My old therapist was very caring/compassionate and understanding about it, and I needed that; but I have read horror stories from some of the support forums I'm on from other people and their therapists on this particular issue, so I was really scared.  Thankfully, I was able to make an appointment for just after work, and her office is literally right across the street from work (the hotel street number is 2215, her street number is 2214.) so I didn't have a lot of time to try to talk myself out of it.

I have to say, I'm feeling a lot better about the whole thing.  The therapist is very nice.  Of course the first appointment was filled with questions about what I struggle with and experience and my past.  She asked about my family, schooling, work, support system, feelings, events etc etc.  She gave me assessments for anxiety and depression to fill out.  She diagnosed me with severe depression (which I've already been diagnosed with) and she specified my anxiety diagnosis a little more and diagnosed me with panic disorder.  She also explained a little bit about why I experience those feelings of distorted reality and disconnect when I have panic attacks.  She also noticed a possible connection between an incident that occurred when I was in 2nd grade and when I started experiencing anxiety/panic attacks.  She was also very understanding about the particular issue that I was scared about being honest about.  Then we sat down and kind of set up a treatment plan and some goals I want to achieve (something that my old therapist never did.)  Before I left, she said I was a fresh of breath air because apparently she doesn't have a lot of clients who actually have or want goals, they just come in and complain, but I walked in wanting to be able to make goals.  (What is the point of therapy if I'm not going to work towards anything?)

Anyways, I'm going to be seeing her every week for awhile.  I like that she's right across the street from work.  My old therapist was almost out in Boalsburg, so it was kind of annoying to get too.  I hope things continue to go well with her, we'll have to see, but things look good.

Thank you to those who encouraged me the past few weeks to keep my appointment and supported me in going, I appreciate it.

Panic Attacks and Depersonalization/Derealization

My first "official" post.  I hope to do one or two of these a week.

Panic attacks. --- An unfortunate event that can make someone feel like they're dying.  Your heart races, you're sweating, hyperventilating, you feel like everything is closing in around you.  There is a difference between just having panic attacks, and having a panic disorder.  Generally, if you change your behavior specifically because of the panic attacks, it becomes a panic disorder.  (For example, avoiding a certain place because you once had a panic attack there.)  As far as I know, I don't suffer from panic disorder, but I do suffer from panic attacks.

My earliest memorie of having a panic attack was in elementary school.  The only problem was, I didn't know what it was, so I didn't know how to convey what was happening.  In addition, I suffer from something else that comes with my panic attacks.  When I experience panic attacks, I also experience a sense of distorted reality.  I feel disconnected from my body, from my surroundings, from reality.  I feel like I am floating above my body watching myself.  I can't tell what is real and I can't seem to get a grasp on reality.  It has always been incredibly hard to describe and I didn't even know there was a name for it until recently.  This is called depersonalization/derealization.  I remember experiencing this was I was younger, and even though I didn't know what was happening, I knew that getting out of the room I was in for a few minutes seemed to help a little bit.  So every time these feelings came on, I would ask to go to the bathroom.  Of course eventually, my teachers began asking if I was okay.  I didn't even know what to say.  The only thing I could think of to describe what I was feeling was that "my depression was taking over and I just needed to get out of the room for a few minutes."  They were generally understanding after that and left me alone.

The physical symptoms of a panic attack, I can manage.  What becomes terrifying for me, is the distorted reality and disconnected feeling.  It's so hard to deal with and come of out.  How do I get myself back to reality?  I have some general breathing exercises I rely on to get me through anxiety in general, which can also be helpful during panic attacks.  Cool, fresh air can also be very helpful.  If I'm at home, taking a shower can help bring me back to reality, at the very least, running my hands under cold water.  I've also discovered texting someone and trying to "connect" to someone can help too.  I've never really discovered what triggers my attacks most of the time.  Being around a large number of people can trigger my anxiety and result in triggering a panic attack.  Oddly enough, I've also discovered that getting a "deja vu" feeling also triggers a panic attack.  For most of my life, my panic attacks seemed to come in cycles.  They would be really bad for a couple of weeks, and then I wouldn't have any at all for a month of two.  They've slowly become more and more frequent and severe though.  They can make stressful situations worse.  They're terrifying, and not being able to control them, makes them even more so.

http://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/understanding-panic-attack-basics
http://www.calmclinic.com/anxiety/symptoms/derealization
http://www.calmclinic.com/anxiety/symptoms/distorted-reality
http://www.anxietycoach.com/depersonalization.html

Introduction

This blog is something I've considered doing for quite some time now.  Out there in the "blog-o-sphere" I have an anonymous blog I created about my battle with depression as part of an online community group, but I want to be more open about my experiences, and that means creating a blog that is not anonymous.  So I'm following some of the examples from the amazing people around me, and I'm going to begin sharing more openly.  There's several reasons why I want to do this and what I hope to achieve from doing this---

•      Create awareness
•      Help others understand mental illness
•      Help fight the stigma against mental illness
•      To let others know they're not alone

I intend to be truthful in all that I write.  These are my own experiences, my own perspectives and my own feelings of how events affected/influenced me.  Some of these things may not be "news" to some, but a lot of it will be things that I've only talked about with few very select people.  If anything I post involves another person, I'll do my best to keep that person anonymous.  I apologize for anything that may be essentially "coming clean" about and that maybe I should talk about in person, but it's much easier for me to convey my thoughts in writing, so please try to be understanding.  (This mostly applies to family.)

If this blog "takes off" in any sort of way, I would be open to having guest writers if anyone had anything that they also wanted to share (I can post them anonymously or with your name, it would be your choice.)

I hope this blog will help create some awareness and understanding and even some healing as I write things out.  Feel free to share it if you feel so inclined.  I hope to make my first "official" post soon.