Finding Joy in Trials: Give Depression a NAME and a VOICE

The key is to find a way to define your trial rather than letting it define you.  Even though it will change and shape you, hopefully for the better, it does not have to overcome who you are and will NEVER change your worth, or identity as a child of God.  

I have had several small breakthroughs over the last ten years as I’ve struggled off and on with depression and anxiety.  Many of them were “tender mercies” that got me through a rough stretch.  But the two most significant breakthroughs have completely changed me as a person and changed the way I look at this difficult trial.  

The first breakthrough came when a doctor finally put a name to the feelings that I had so much trouble describing:  Depression.  I had been in a dark, cloudy fog for months on end and kept hoping and expecting that I’d be able to push myself out of it.  I told myself that I could “tough it out,” “cowboy up,” or “snap out of it,” like I had always been able to during my previous sad moods.  This was different, more than just a mood, and I did not feel at all like myself.  I was lucky enough to have an intuitive mother who told me I needed to go to the doctor.  

When I did, I found out that I had typical symptoms of depression and that it was common to see the onset at my age. I was surprised, but so relieved to have something to call it.  I had been afraid that the way I felt was the new “me” and that I would never feel like my old self again.  Having someone else look at my symptoms and know exactly what was wrong lifted a heavy burden off my shoulders.  I knew that it was not something I had caused or something that changed who I was as a person.

I realized over time that depression was as real as any other physical ailment with its own set of symptoms.  I had strep throat several times growing up, and I became very familiar with how it felt.  As much as I dreaded that strep test, it was always comforting to have the doctor confirm what was wrong so I could know what to do about it.  Learning I had depression was scary, but it gave me the start I needed to climb out of the dark hole I felt like I was in.

For the next ten years I learned to recognize the symptoms of depression.  I finally knew what I was dealing with, and I was becoming more mindful about how to deal with it.  I tried to pinpoint ways to prevent and then get out of that dark place, and I always learned a lot about myself in the process.  I also began to recognize signs of anxiety that worsened over time.  I had no idea why I had trouble deciding something as simple as where to go out to dinner, as if that decision would impact the rest of my life.  I started having small panic attacks and was shocked at the physiological reaction my body had to the smallest amount of input.  I would hear something as simple as my son coughing and I would immediately begin shaking and sweating, thinking of all the things that might be wrong with him.  These moments came out of the blue and left me entirely helpless.  

As I recognized that these symptoms also had a name — anxiety — I was able to identify them as separate from my typical self and learn more about how to keep my anxiety level in check over time.  Of course, I still have episodes that are out of my control (as I do with depression). But because I know what is happening to me, I have a better understanding of why it’s happening, what I might be able to do about it, and that it will eventually pass.  I have also learned to give myself time to acknowledge the emotion.  If I hurry to push it away, I end up feeling even more anxious or depressed.  I need to give myself permission to feel those emotions and understand what is going on before I immediately force myself to think of something that might help me feel better.  

Giving these illnesses a name was helpful, but mostly just for my own sake. Up until this point I could probably count the number of conversations I had had about depression on one hand.  My loving husband would occasionally ask if there was anything he could do, but I didn’t want to burden him or anyone else.  I kept to myself because I had no idea what anyone else could do to help me.  Reaching out to others was especially difficult when depression set in and made me feel numb and disconnected from the world.  I can only remember one time when I had the strength to admit how helpless I was, and this led to my next big breakthrough.

I remember sitting in my rocking chair holding my newest baby; my four year old was running around being his busy little self while my oldest was at school.  I suddenly had a clear prompting, which was interesting because I didn’t feel like anything was very clear at that point. I needed to call my dad.  I didn’t know why, but I was very sure that he was the one I was supposed to call.  So I did.  I thought we could just have a casual conversation and that would be helpful enough, but I quickly broke down in tears.  I had no trouble telling him that I was having a really rough time, which was uncharacteristic of me.  I could usually put on a pretty brave front.  He offered his love and support, and I felt a portion of his strength being given to me so that I could move forward.

In the days and weeks following the conversation with my dad, I felt that same liberating feeling I had felt when I gave depression a name.  I had somehow been able to tell someone that I was struggling instead of keeping it to myself and assuming I was the only one who felt the way I did or who could do anything about it.  I started to overcome this frequent and pressing thought that “I should be able to handle this, I know this is depression so I should know what to do.” I realize now that this mindset was keeping me from trusting the Savior to help in His own way.  My desire to be independent was getting in the way of His attempts to send me relief.  

All along I had been sharing this trial by communicating with and calling to my Heavenly Father, but I’ve learned that sometimes He wants us to feel His power through other people.  The call I made to my earthly father allowed me to feel and recognize the power I had been praying for, and it seemed to open some floodgates.  From that point on I began feeling a little more comfortable telling people that I was struggling and I wasn’t always “fine.”  I tried to find a balance between being real and honest while staying positive, and it’s still a work in progress.  I started taking advantage of opportunities to talk about and share my experiences, and eventually created my own opportunities.  I had a new-found strength and desire to share my experiences and give them a VOICE.  As I’ve gradually opened up to more people, I have been so blessed to feel the connection and power that comes from sharing my trial.  

If I could suggest anything to those who struggle with depression and anxiety, I would first say: you are not alone!  For me it helped to be specific about my trial and know what to call it.  Some might experience the same trial of “infertility,” “loss of a loved one,” or “health challenges,” for example, but the experiences and effects are unique to each individual.  Think about the way your trial is affecting you personally.  The key is to find a way to define your trial rather than letting it define you.  Even though it will change and shape you, hopefully for the better, it does not have to overcome who you are and will NEVER change your worth, or identity as a child of God.  

It will also be helpful if you give your trial a voice because you will more quickly learn what the trial is meant to teach you.  First and foremost, use your voice to ask for help if necessary.  Allow others to serve you and pray for you.  When it comes to sharing your trial, your voice does not have to be audible.  It can be a voice for only you to hear through journaling or writing letters to yourself.  If you do have the desire to share your voice with others, start with those you love and trust, then look for ways that sharing your trial will bless others.  Include your Heavenly Father and Savior in this process.  Ask to know more about your trial and how to give it a voice in a way that will help you and others come closer to them.  

There have been many times during my trials that I felt far from my Savior and in need of the comfort of His Spirit.  In the back of my mind I was sure that He knew what I was going through, but it was difficult to see His hand in my life.  Fortunately, I never doubted the basic fact that He loved me.  So I took the advice of Elder Holland in one of my all-time favorite messages, “Like a Broken Vessel:” “If the bitter cup does not pass, drink it and be strong, trusting in happier days ahead.”  I have been blessed to always find happier days after the darkness of depression.  I have learned to look differently and more closely for the “tender mercies” in my life, and it has become easier to see that He is sending them constantly.  I know that the Savior has made it possible to find joy in my trials and that He has given me these breakthroughs to help me come closer to Him.

Experiment: I invite you to prayerfully come to know your current or most difficult trial.  Think about ways to define the trial and to explain how it has affected you.  Ask in prayer to know the purpose of your trial and how you can give it a voice to help yourself or others.  How has your trial brought you closer to the Savior?

Share your thoughts using the hashtag #myvoiceofgladness.