Faith is Like a Little Seed.

So if anyone is reading this and isn’t a member of the LDS faith, well welcome! Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and convert you, this post isn’t designed to make you see my way. This is simply my life experiences dealing with depression and anxiety and if you’re skeptical then fine but I’m not. I have a firm testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ and of the Book of Mormon and of the Bible — yes Mormons believe in the Bible (as far as it is translated correctly). If you have any questions about the LDS church then please visit Mormon.Org and talk with the missionaries on there.

Anyways, now that we’ve got that out of the way I wanna talk about how my belief system affected my mental illness.

Before I was medicated or taken seriously by my loving parents I felt like I didn’t belong in my church — not because anyone said or did anything but because I didn’t fit their bright eyed, happy mold. I was miserable. I was anxious, worried and constantly thinking that others were judging me based on how I looked because in case you didn’t know I’m plus sized. Anyways, every laugh I heard my brain immediately thought that some skinny twig of a girl was laughing at how huge my hips were or how my stomach folds in on its self. Something I realized is that people are too into themselves to be laughing at me and if they then so what? I stop going to church because I’m miserable and everyone hates me?

NO. I can’t tell you how many times that I’ve talked to individuals both friends and strangers who have left the church tell me that they left because they didn’t “fit in” or that people were making fun of them when they were in Young Womens or Mens. I try to understand and sympathize with them but personally, to me, it’s the weakest answer there is. If you want to leave the Church then do it because your heart is in it, or because you don’t have a testimony. Don’t quit because of the other sinners.

In the April 2015 General Conference (big meeting, happens twice a year). Elder Redlund gave a talk about how the gospel and Church of Christ is basically a hospital of sinners.

“ God’s desire that Latter-day Saints keep on trying also extends beyond overcoming sin. Whether we suffer because of troubled relationships, economic challenges, or illnesses or as a consequence of someone else’s sins, the Savior’s infinite Atonement can heal even — and perhaps especially — those who have innocently suffered. He understands perfectly what it is like to suffer innocently as a consequence of another’s transgression… the Church is like a big hospital, and we are all sick in our own way. We come to church to be helped.”

To go along with this metaphor, we’re all sick, no one is perfect and before I was medicated or even diagnosed with my mental disorders this wasn’t something I could grasp, yes I heard and kind of knew that everyone couldn’t be perfect but to me it felt like perfection could be achieved in this mortal life and it was something that I could never achieve unless I was dead. Thus began the everyday thoughts and temptations of suicide.

Being religious, I believe that we have a Heavenly Father who loves us and I also believe in an Adversary who wants to see me fail. The adversary is more commonly known as Satan but I don’t believe he has a tail or red horns or anything like that but there is a being who wants me to fail.

SO when the temptations of dying came into play, it was the hardest battle to fight. Some days I felt like I could easily conquer and fight back to find a reason to continue living but most days I refused to leave my bed mostly because I was scared of what I might to do to myself if I did. The temptations to die were so sneaky! I would have an okay day and I’d go take a shower and while I’m shampooing I would look at my razor and the thought to just slit my wrist would come into my mind and I’m not going to lie, some days I would press the razor against my skin but I would put it back. Soon the razor became such a temptation that I don’t even have it in my shower. To this day, my razor is actually under my cupboard in the bathroom, out of sight and out of mind, unless I need to shave my legs.

Honestly, even though I bad days and contemplated suicide I never felt alone. I believe the angels of our ancestors watch out for us and let me tell you, I was not fighting the adversary alone and since I made that revelation the temptation died for a long time.

My religion has been such an anchor for me while I have been battling anxiety and depression. It’s because of my belief in revelations and communication between us and our Heavenly Father that I received the help that I so desperately needed! However, that’s a story for another time.

Depression isn’t a broken bone we can see. The meds, doctors, coping mechanisms and therapists can only help so much. I know everyone believes in something different but I can testify that my belief in a God who loves me, listens to me when I’m crying for help at night is what really prevented me from taking my own life. I believe that our Heavenly Father sent His son Jesus Christ to earth not to condemn man but to love and save man in more ways that one. I believe that my Savior Jesus Christ felt every single temptation, bad day, self doubt, panic attack I’ve ever experienced and will continue to experience. He did this so that we could have a Brother who knows and can understand exactly what I’ve been through and what I will go through. I love Him and if you don’t believe in God or an afterlife then fine, that’s your choice but if you’re struggling with depression and anxiety then I beg you to find something to believe in — let it be your anchor.

Always remember to Keep Fighting.

Allanah Marie Staggs

Written by

A 22 year old college girl who wants to share her story

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