In the summer of 1998 I was in a car accident heading to work. I was driving my little burgundy Plymouth Horizon, which didn’t stand a chance against the Goliath RAM truck who pulled out in front of me. In the blink of an eye, my 110 lb body slammed against the steering wheel and dashboard. My head hit the windshield in front of me. I remember small glimpses of people driving by and gawking at me as I sat sideways in my car unable to even stand. I was in and out of consciousness. I remember feeling exhaustion wash over me that I had never felt before. I wanted to get up and look at my car and check on the other person, but I couldn’t. My thoughts and movements were now in slow motion at best. I never heard the ambulance arrive, but as the stretcher jolted as they lifted me into the back, my mind woke again. I could hear them talking about me failing to respond. Though I could hear them, I had no strength or ability to open my eyes or even attempt to mumble a few words. Then I blacked out again. It was as though signals were firing, but everything inside of me was short circuited. I left the hospital the following day with a very large knot on my forehead, a severe concussion, bruised knee caps, a few scrapes, and two beautiful raccoon eyes. My car’s steering wheel had left a very distinct black and blue ring on my chest and stomach. Everything hurt for weeks to come, but by the grace of God, I was okay.
When I think about depression, I always think about that day. I still remember exactly how I felt after that traumatic collision. The lack of control when going in and out of consciousness and the extreme physical exhaustion to the point I lost normal functioning. My mind wouldn’t do what I needed it to do. I have a vague memory of a man squatting down next to me while I sat in my car right after the accident. He was asking me if I had a child with me. Apparently my daughter’s car seat was lying empty on its side in the backseat. He asked me over and over again desperate for an answer. What would normally take me less than a second to respond was now taking minutes. I was out of work for two weeks. The first week I was not allowed to be alone because of the concussion. There was no way I could care for my two year old daughter as I was confined to my parents couch. Suddenly, everything became harder to do. Simple things like holding my child were painful and tiring. Getting off the couch alone was a bit of a nightmare. But they took care of us both. They brought me food and helped me to the bathroom. They constantly checked in on me. Though I wanted to be home and working again, my body could no longer handle normal life.
The body stores our trauma. It has its own memory separate from the brain. Together, both memories have stored all the data needed to help us maneuver and make choices to avoid that trauma from ever happening again. For example, if I thought a car was about to pull out in front of me, now with this newly stored information, my entire body would tense up and react quickly because it had been there before. My foot would hit the break in mere seconds, my hand may reach to push on the horn, etc. The mind would trigger fear, while the body triggered muscles. All trauma is stored somewhere in your body. This is why the healing process is so important. It is why God asks us to give Him our pain and trauma because He did not build our bodies to hold onto these negative events. Though I was thankful to be alive and have a place to go while I healed, the negative parts of this experience outweighed the gratitude because the body and mind instinctively held onto that trauma memory to guard and protect me later.
Thanks to research, we have learned so much more about depression in the last decade. There is medication and counseling, that are both very good, but we are forgetting a very important aspect in the healing process, spirituality. We are not just a mind and a body, but also a soul. In fact, I believe a lot of the mental health struggles we have today is spiritual warfare. I meet with a Christian counselor because we can discuss both mental health tools and spiritual attacks against me. The last two years I have also met with a pastor on a regular basis and the combination of those two men, along with support from friends and family, is why I am still here today. When I was under severe attack, it did not matter what counseling tools I had in my drawer. Like the day of the car accident, I was exhausted, confused, unable to think for myself, struggled with daily activities like work, and so on. With prayer, it pushed back the evil presence and allowed me to think again. I could take a deep breath and rest for a moment. I could think and I could talk with Jesus more freely. I could open that binder I have of scriptures, encouraging words, and even the tools my counselor shared with me. Before having prayer with this pastor, I was not surviving. Every day was my last day. And every day most certainly could have been. Eliminating and pushing back the demonic spirits that tortured me day and night, left space for my mental health tools to be used. This is why I try to share my experiences because we need to move past phrases like, “Just choose to be happy” or “Just think positive”. These are very helpful suggestions when a person is only a little down about life, not when they are in the deepest and most dangerous pit. Just like the day of my accident, I needed the ambulance, the doctors, and even my parents to see me through the healing process before I was strong enough to do it on my own again. There are people in the world sitting in “mental cars” on the side of the street broken, bruised, and inflicted. Life to them is exhausting, confusing, and lonely. They can’t just stand up and walk away from the wreckage feeling healthy and well. They need help and they need the right kind of help. It took the people around me to pray regularly and spend time with me before I could have the spiritual strength to do that on my own. There’s a place in the darkness where fighting no longer exists.
When I was lost in the darkness of deep depression and someone told me to “choose happiness”, it confirmed to me that I was just a failure and a mess up. I told myself I couldn’t do anything right, even getting out of this depressive state. I felt ashamed and misunderstood. I was embarrassed sometimes, which led me to withdraw even further. Sometimes encouragement is misused unintentionally. Understanding how deep the depression is for your family member or friend is imperative for how you interact with them. If I could suggest a better option from “Just think positive”, but maybe invite that person to do something with you that is fun. What will be relaxing and also bring joy to them personally? Bring the positivity to them, instead of asking them to go find it on their own. Remember, they want to think positive, they just need a little help getting there first. My best advice is to pray first before saying anything. Ask Jesus what you should do and not do. He has the best answer for all situations. And of course, praying for that person does wonders. Just keep in mind that you do not know their entire journey so give them time and space to heal. I have been in the healing process for two years now and I am so grateful for those who stood by my side and did not give up on me. They gave me the grace I needed to properly heal and I continue to do so even today.
