“There must be something wrong with your spiritual life.”

“You need to have more faith.”

That last statement gets me every time. According to many, Christianity and depression just don’t fit together. We think if someone’s depressed, he or she isn’t right with God.

That could not be any further from the truth.

In a world filled with so much negativity and pain, it is no wonder many people become depressed. For most people, this depression is easily controlled without becoming dependent on therapists and medication. But for others, myself included, depression is a daily struggle, leaving us no choice but to seek medical care. It’s a medical illness, not a spiritual one.

Someone once told me my faith wasn’t strong enough and that was why I was going through my horrible depression. And for a long time, I really did believe him and, as a result, felt even more hopeless. I thought maybe he was right. Maybe my faith wasn’t strong enough and that was why I was suffering.

It was only after tons of researching and soul searching that I realized how wrong he was. I began to dig into God’s Word and found comfort in the book of Job.

Man, I thought I had problems! But compared to Job, my problems seemed small—trivial even. Here was a man who had literally lost everything and yet continued to praise God through it all. He was told by all his friends and family to just give up. They told him to “curse God and die” (Job 2:9). But Job did just the opposite. He turned to God, praising Him.

I wish I could tell you that after my diagnosis I immediately turned to God to get me through it all. But I’d be lying. Truth of the matter is I became bitter. I couldn’t understand why God was allowing this to happen. I just wanted to be a normal college student who didn’t have to worry about taking medication every single day and could hang out with friends without fear of relapsing.

As I continued to fall deeper and deeper into my depression, I slowly began to alienate myself from everyone and everything; I even stopped going to church. In my mind, there just was no point in going. I felt God had abandoned me.
But one day something changed. My eyes were opened to the truth that it wasn’t God who abandoned me. I had abandoned God. Suddenly I was faced with the realization of losing everything I had worked hard for if I didn’t change my ways.

It happened so quickly and so suddenly that I realized church was the very place I needed to be if I wanted to win this fight with myself. I slowly got my life back on track and began taking the steps towards God’s loving arms.

I was a senior in high school when I was first diagnosed with depression. Eight years later, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. To this day I honestly believe I had been bipolar all along and was misdiagnosed in high school. Just ask any of my family members. They’ll tell you I was extremely hard to live with. My moods were all over the place and I couldn’t control them. I recall sometime during my junior year of college joking to my best friend that maybe I was, in fact, bipolar.
Who knew that a few years later, I would be told I was right?

I’m not telling you this to get you to feel sorry for me. In fact, please don’t.

I’m telling you this so you can get a better idea of what millions of Americans have to battle each day. But that’s not what is important. It’s how people handle their illness from day to day.

Imagine, if you will, the worst headache of your life. I’m talking about “can’t get out of the bed—unable to move—my head is going to explode” type of feeling. Now take that pain and double it. I battle this pain every single day. Mentally and physically. As do millions of other Americans.

The question is, how do we handle our illness? Do we retreat to our rooms and wallow in self-pity? Or do we step out on faith and place all of our troubles on God?

Me? I wallowed for the first few months. I had to force myself to get out of bed in the morning. I called in sick to work on days I couldn’t find the strength to get up. I bailed on my friends. On numerous occasions, I stayed in my room, curled up in a ball on my bed, and cried for hours.

I felt like no one understood me. No one seemed to want to understand me. I would get angry every time someone told me to “snap out of it.” I wanted to strangle them for thinking I wanted to be like this. Why would anyone want to feel this way?
When I rededicated my life to the Lord a few months later, I became a completely different person. At least that’s what I’ve been told by those who remained by my side even through the periods of darkness.

Truth is, I felt like a new person. I was smiling more. I was genuinely happy. I was getting my life back! And this time, I was allowing God to work through me. To this day, I know without a shadow of a doubt that God allowed me to go through that dark period in order to bring me back to Him.

I’m not saying I don’t have bad moments. I still struggle sometimes. I have my down days. But this time, rather than ignoring God’s tug at my heart, I turn to Him and allow Him to do His job. Because let’s face it—we’ll never be able to cope without Him.