
Broken
You can still be a Christian and be on antidepressants. God doesn’t want you to suffer. God wants you to be whole.
This is a story. A story about a family man in his mid 40’s who appeared to have it all, by today’s standards, but who’s life abruptly and unexpectedly fell apart. As a result, this man found God. Found art. And was prescribed antidepressants by his doctor to help him through this very difficult time. All were collectively a life saver and changed the man’s life forever. And then, five years later, after now living his life as a believer, this man’s body started rejecting his antidepressants, so his doctor took him off of them and he never needed antidepressants again. This is not my story.
Well it is up to the “never needing antidepressants again” part. Because after nine months of being off of antidepressants, I was hit with one of the most difficult years of my life and I was failing…mentally, emotionally, and physically.
On January 6, 2018 my brother (who was my last remaining surviving sibling and who was also bedridden with cancer for the last four years of his life) passed away. My mom and I were at church that evening when I got the call from his Hospice nurse. I can still hear my mom’s wailing as we drove home that night. It’s a sound I will never forget. The next week I planned my brother’s funeral with my mother which was revealing, to say the least. Something was wrong. She’s no help. She’s like a child. She has Dementia. Moderate to severe. How did we miss this? So my wife and I, with our two teenage children and giant dog, moved my mother and her tiny dog into our home in January and became her primary caregiver. A big change. More than I was ready for. More than I could handle. Our care for her was both physical (feeding, bathing, medication administration, etc.) and financial; managing all of her affairs including countless calls and letters to the insurance companies, paying her monthly bills, and selling her home (which was my childhood home). This meant dealing with realtors, inspectors, buyers, lawyers and ultimately, after selling her home (thank God we did sell it), cleaning out her home, which as a result of her disease, was an uncomfortable walk down memory lane combined with a discovery of her newly acquired hoarding habits. It was a sad look into her deteriorating brain and the entire 48-hour blur was both physically and emotionally exhausting. And, as I’m writing this and after my mother has lived with us for almost seven full months now, we are about to move my mother into an amazing, Catholic (my mom is a devout Catholic) assisted living facility that is PERFECT for her and exactly four point two miles from our home. She will be safe. She will be healthy. She will be close. And I am sure she is going to hate us for it. She will cry a lot. She cries a lot now. And finally, our oldest son is leaving for college in August. A right of passage. A wonderful opportunity. I am very proud. But apparently, a child leaving home for college is listed as one of the top stressful life events that can lead to depression. And I got this one and three more, all within six months. I never knew about the top stressful life events and how they can lead to depression until a loving cousin pointed out to me that I’ve experienced four within six months. She also was one of the first people who suspected I was struggling and graciously stressed that it is normal, medically proven in fact, that when one experiences numerous stressful life events that the body (the brain) gets depleted of essential chemicals needed to cope and that this can lead to clinical depression. And that it is OK to seek help. Get medical help. Get the help that I, my brain needs. Take antidepressants if I need it. If my doctor recommends it. She’s also a devout Christian. She was concerned about me. Asked me how I was doing. I said fine. I lied. I lie a lot. I’m fine.
My doctor, while visiting his office this spring on what I now realize was probably the third office visit that year due to physical conditions that were caused by emotional and mental stress, immediately noticed “You’re struggling and suffering from depression again. I want to start you back on antidepressants.” No. Not me. Not this time. I’m fine. I don’t need it. I’m going to “lean into it” like a lot of my fellow Christian brothers who were Christians longer than me told me to do. Lean into it and rely on God for my comfort, my medicine. I will be an example. I will not fail. I can do this. I am strong. I am not weak (like others who need antidepressants). I will journal my worry and fears and bring them to God on the mornings (every morning) I wake up at 2:00, 3:00, 4:00 AM and can’t get back to sleep. I will feed on and memorize Scripture on the days (everyday) I don’t eat (can’t eat). And when I break down and cry in the morning (every morning, even while at work), I will cry out to God and know that my tears mean that I am being moved by the Holy Spirit. My doctor, who has been my doctor for over 20 years, pleaded with me. Begged me. “This is not mental. This is not physical. This is not spiritual. This is chemical. Your brain is depleted of serotonin and you need this. Just like how a diabetic needs insulin. You wouldn’t tell a diabetic to tough-it-out or even lean on God if they needed insulin, would you? So why are you not telling yourself, it’s chemical? It’s medicine? And you need it? Why do you want to suffer?!!”
“I left my wife during service to go into a stall in the men’s room and cried for no logical reason. Broke down. Again.”
I wish I could say I immediately took his genuinely compassionate plea but I fought it for another solid month or so before I finally gave in. Broke actually. Bad. I remember it well. It was Father’s Day. A day all about me. For me. I could barely get out of bed. Went to church with my wife. Had to leave her during worship (one of my favorite parts of service) because I couldn’t keep it together. That’s right, I left my wife during service to go into a stall in the men’s room and cried for no logical reason. Broke down. Again. Then, we came home for a party for me. I snuck away upstairs and slept in my son’s room for an hour. Didn’t want to see or talk to anybody. Couldn’t. Can’t. Won’t. And then, that night I had a double header beach volleyball game. It’s one of my younger hobbies that I still enjoy and look forward to on a regular basis. I actually love it. Not today. Not for a while now. But tonight, it was worse than ever and everybody noticed. “Are you ok?” my teammates asked me over and over again. “You need to sit down. You don’t look good.” One teammate even brought me a wet towel to put on the back of my neck. I blamed it on the heat. I lied. Again. My teammates even texted me that night to make sure I was OK, visibly seeing I was not. Far from it. Now, I can’t even fake being OK. Something that I was successfully doing for the last six months or more. Probably more. Yep, more. Now I knew…this isn’t right. This isn’t normal. I can’t live like this. Don’t want to be this. I just want this to stop. I am not the man I need to be, should be for my wife, my children, my work. And I certainly am not the man, the artist, the warrior God intended me to be. Not even close.
So I gave in. I took my first pill (Lexapro 10 mg to be exact) the following day, Monday and still remember saying to myself, as I popped the small, little white pill on the back of my tongue and threw my head back with a mouthful of water from a small Dixie cup “I am still broken. Beautifully broken.” and heard Plumb’s chorus of her hit song. It helped. And I still sing it to myself today when taking my medication. Thank you Plumb. I also recalled the beginning of David’s Psalm 139:14 “Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex.” Funny, I remembered the “complex” part but not the “Your workmanship is marvelous — how well I know it” part. Funny. And telling.
Monday: Incredible. God almighty thank you!!
Tuesday: Engh.
Wednesday: Chest is shaking. Is this normal? Calmed down in the evening. Slept for the first time in months. Five months to be exact.
Thursday & Friday: MY GOD…this is what it feels like to be normal?!!! THANK YOU JESUS!! Starving! Ate both lunch and dinner. Can’t remember when I did that last.
Saturday: One-hour crash from 3:00 to 4:00 in the afternoon during a graduation party. Chest shaking but came out of it. Damn, I thought I made the turn here.
Sunday: CRASH! Oh no. This isn’t working. Just get through the day.
Monday: Still not great. Chest is going to explode. Called my doctor. “Stay the course.” I stayed the course.
Tuesday: Better.
Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday: AMAZING!! Normal. Happy. Present. Living. Being. Loving.
As I’m writing this, I’m on week four of taking my antidepressants and believe I’ve “leveled out” and am no longer experiencing any of the side effects of my body adjusting to the medication. If I am, I don’t even notice it. And if I was, I would still take how I feel now verses how I felt four weeks ago. Without a doubt. The difference is incredible. Unbelievably incredible. What a life changing, life living difference. THANK YOU GOD!! But initially, those first couple of weeks, I was still doubting, still questioning, still second guessing my decision, despite the fact that the medicine was working, CLEARLY working and my body, my brain was positively responding to it. Needing it. Desperately needing it. Drinking up the depleted chemicals like a man dying of thirst would drink from a fire-hose of ice-cold water. My brain couldn’t drink it up fast enough. It was an amazing difference and once again, a life saver. You would think I would not have an ounce of doubt but I was still stuck in “Did I do the right thing?” purgatory. And then, I had my first meeting with my new therapist. Something my doctor recommended me doing along with taking antidepressants. I researched “Christian counselors near me” and found an incredible woman who is part Bible historian, part brain expert (particularly as it relates to what happens to the brain chemically during depression and how chemically, if your brain is lacking certain chemicals, how it causes depression), and of course, part counselor, psychologist, listener, healer. Oh, and she is a Christian and “pro” medicine. Someone I desperately needed in my life right now.
“She said a score of 39 or above was an “inpatient admittance score”. I scored a 45.”
She gave me a test. Beck’s Depression Inventory (BDI) to be exact. Here’s what Wikipedia says about Beck’s Depression Inventory. I’ll summarize: “A 21-question report that is one of THE most widely used psychometric tests for measuring the severity of depression. Its development marked a shift among mental health professionals. Originally published in 1961, the BDI is widely used as an assessment tool by health care professionals and researchers everywhere.” Legit. Right? So I asked Michele (my therapist), “Do you want me to answer how I feel now, being on my medication for almost two weeks or answer how I felt before I started taking my medication?” Thank God Michele said both and not before. You see, my score now, while on medication was a 10. Not bad. Actually pretty good. Manageable. Before medication: 45. I can’t remember the exact words Michele said, but I clearly remember the astonished look on her face and believe she said something like “In all of my years of practice, I have never seen this big of a swing within such a short timeframe. You CLEARLY need this medication and in fact, I won’t see you if you don’t.” This next part I do remember and frankly, was the sobering turning point for me…she said a score of 39 or above is an “inpatient admittance score”. Meaning typically, that person requires inpatient care in a local psychiatric hospital. If they refuse, she is required to call that person’s emergency contact and have them come to the office to bring that person home to assure their safety. And, if she thought that person was a physical threat to themselves or others, she is required to have them admitted, even against their will. 39. I scored a 45.
I am grateful for Michele. It was what I needed to hear. Thank you God.
So, why am I writing this? And arguably more important, why did I let it get that bad? Why did I let ME get that bad? So bad that I was getting physically ill. So bad that I lost seventeen pounds. So bad that my blood pressure was rising. So bad that my family and friends were pleading with me to get help. So bad that if I would have gone to see Michele just eleven days’ sooner, ELEVEN DAYS, she could have legally admitted me into an inpatient facility. Oh what a different story this would have been.
So again, why? Why could I not see what was clearly destroying me? Sucking the life from me? Crushing me? Simply put…I was stuck. Stuck in pride. Stuck in stigma. Stuck in fear. Stuck in a cocktail of testosterone fused Christianity. Stuck in “I don’t need this. I can do this. I can suck it up. I will.” Stuck in MY vision of my path, not HIS. As I’ve often told other fellow Christians “It’s easy to know if this is the path God wants you on because typically, it’s not the path you envisioned for yourself…and it’s usually the harder path.” It was for me. Is for me. This was not supposed to be my path, according to me. I was supposed to be healed. I was supposed to be the example. I was supposed to be the poster child for finding Christ and not needing antidepressants anymore. Nope. Still broken. Beautifully broken like we all are. But that’s how the light gets in, right? And now, I have more humility and am humbler than ever because of this. Check. Thank you Lord!
OK. But still, why am I writing this now, for you to read? For EVERYONE to read? Why am I putting all of this out there? Putting all of me out there? After all, I’m not even a writer and never, ever published a blog before. What will people think? What will people at work think? People at my church think? My friends? My family? People that thought I was “normal”? There’s that guy. That artist. That crazy guy. Here’s why. Ready? Don’t. Don’t be like me. Don’t let YOU get that bad. Don’t think you are weak. And by all means, don’t think you needing antidepressants is a lack of your faith, a lack of your relationship with God. That is a lie! And we all know where lies come from.
“Crying every day isn’t the Holy Spirit moving you. It’s depression.”
I am not a doctor. I am not a pastor. But me to you, a man, a father, a husband, a Christian, an artist, a warrior, a man who has and is still battling depression, me to you, if you were sitting right in front of me, sharing a cup of coffee at a local coffee shop, looking tired, beaten, worn, and asking me “So what do you think, Dean? Should I or shouldn’t I take antidepressants?”, here’s what I would tell you based on my journey…my mistakes:
1. Taking antidepressants doesn’t mean that you are weak. On the contrary, true strength is the courage to admit weakness. Once you’ve crossed this milestone, congratulations. That’s a big step. Now please, PLEASE get help. You’ll be so glad you did.
2. If you’re seeking advice on should you or shouldn’t you take antidepressants, ask people closest to you (your wife, your husband, your family, your best friends, people that see you on a regular basis and can visibly see the changes, the signs, the likely decline of you and what you’ve been going though). Two of the men I called were fellow Christian brothers that I saw in August at a yearly retreat, which ironically was the first full week of being off of my antidepressants after a two week weaning period. So, I was great. I was killing it. Full of confidence and a newfound vigor of finally being off of antidepressants and likely still benefiting chemically from just recently coming off just two days prior. They did not see me now. They did not see the battle, the struggle, the weight loss, the emptiness in my eyes. They recalled the Dean of August 2017, not the shell of a man I was now. Tired. Beaten. Desperate. Broken. We tend to seek advice from the people we know will give us the answers we want to hear. And they told me exactly what I wanted to hear. “Lean into it. Rely more on God. Life is supposed to be hard. Society is over medicated.” I love these guys and DO NOT blame them or anybody I consoled with who told me to “lean into it” and rely more on God verses taking antidepressants. They simply do not know. Could not know. They were giving me what they thought was good advice based on likely what they heard or read about instead of personal experiences. Again, unless you’ve been there or have had a loved one who’s been there, it is impossible for anyone to understand. Be sure you’re seeking advice with the right people. People that have had experience with depression.
3. Listen to your doctor, not faceless internet articles or preachers. There’s a saying: The wolf always finds what he’s looking for. And as you know, you can find anything on the internet, including why Christians shouldn’t take antidepressants. In fact, if you search “Christians and antidepressants” you’ll find more articles against than for. So after my doctor pleaded with me, begged me to go back on them, I “researched” and found all of the ammunition I needed to rebuke his diagnosis. Don’t. Your doctor is giving you a diagnosis to help YOU. YOUR health. YOUR well-being. They’re not giving a diagnosis for likes, views, forwards, recognition or rebuttal. Their sole purpose is to help YOU. I remember my wife, after telling her that I’m not going to go back on antidepressants although our doctor already prescribed them for me, looked at me and said “Let me get this straight, your doctor, our doctor who is a medical doctor and has been practicing medicine for probably close to 30 years now and has seen this before, in you, and has prescribed antidepressants for you in the past and they helped you, now wants you to take antidepressants again, to help you, yet you’re not going to take them because?” It made me realize how truly absurd I was being and that I was combatting my doctor’s professional, medical advice with an afternoon’s worth of self-diagnosing internet propaganda from faceless internet resources. Listen to your doctor.
4. Listen to your body. Not eating. Not sleeping. Loss of interest in things that used to bring you joy. Inability to concentrate or make decisions. Irritability. Weight loss. Withdrawal. Persistent sadness, hopelessness, even crying. Being more reckless, like driving through an intersection and not even looking for oncoming traffic. Yeah, that was a bad one. These were my symptoms and THEY ARE NOT NORMAL. They are not how someone should live, feel, act, be. THIS IS NOT HOW GOD WANTS YOU TO BE. It is clinical depression and my body was screaming for help. Often times, particularly if you’re a man, you ignore or discount what your body is telling you. Just go rub some dirt on it. Suck it up. Wuss. You’ll be fine. You won’t. Get help. Now.
5. Crying every day isn’t the Holy Spirit moving you. It’s depression. This was probably THE question that my therapist, seven years ago, asked me that made me realize that I was battling something that was chemical and beyond my control; “Do you cry and if so, how often?” I think my answer was three to four times a week but it was really almost every day. Nonetheless, it was still enough that he advised me to see my doctor and told me that he believed I was suffering from clinical depression and that I needed medical help. Taking antidepressants was a life changer then and they’re a life changer now. Although this time, recently, I was telling myself that it was good to cry, lean into it, see where the pain is coming from, this is healing, this is cleansing and that it was the Holy Spirit moving me. It wasn’t and it wasn’t and it wasn’t. I’m not a Bible historian but there’s at least eight (probably more) Bible verses about the Holy Spirit giving joy NOT sorrow. And the believers were filled with joy and the Holy Spirit. — Acts 13: 52. Not tears of sorrow and pain. I confused the two. I was wrong.
6. Don’t wait. Get help now. Think of it this way, the diabetic needing insulin is a great example of how chemically, our bodies need help and how that is perfectly and socially acceptable. But I’m going to use a different analogy that I believe we’ve all experienced. What if you had a toothache? How long would you wait before you would go to your dentist to seek medical help? A week? Two-weeks tops? And what if you had the same point of view about seeking modern medical help for your toothache that I did about taking antidepressants for my depression? How bad would your tooth be after months of trying to “lean into it”? How much pain would you be in? How physically, mentally, emotionally exhausted would you be? How much damage did that one little tooth, that was likely a manageable cavity nine months ago, do to your body now? Your body is the same way. Your mind is the same way. You will have less of a hill to climb if you seek and get medical help sooner rather than waiting for the entire tooth to rot, root and all, and infect your entire jaw, mouth, body, soul. Don’t wait. Don’t be a 45.
7. Go to therapy. If you’ve struggled with depression, your doctor may recommend seeing a therapist along with antidepressants. And if you’ve done any research on depression, you know that one of the most effective things to combine with antidepressants to alleviate or possibly even eliminate depression is therapy. I know it’s hard. I know it’s a time commitment. And I know even the paperwork before your first appointment can be lengthy and humbling. But go. Go. For me, I wanted someone who both knew the Lord and the brain. So I found a licensed therapist who is a Christian and who also had experience in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). And although I’ve only seen Michele a handful of times as I’m writing this, her knowledge of the Bible and the brain are both impressive and fascinating. At times, particularly when she’s talking about the brain and why we do the things we do, I feel like the curtain has been pulled back on the Wizard in The Wizard of Oz. Again, fascinating. Truly fascinating! I even look forward to our sessions. And so can you. Go. Go.
8. I know these are obvious, but I still think they need to be said: You can still be a Christian and be on antidepressants. You can still be a man and be on antidepressants. God doesn’t want you to suffer. God wants you to be whole. It’s OK. You’re not alone. You will get through this.
I also want to stress that if you or someone in your life who is anti-antidepressants think that by taking antidepressants you’ll stop or won’t need to do the things you used to enjoy as a Christian, for me, there’s nothing farther from the truth. I still go to church (LOVE my church). I still read the Bible. I still pray. I still listen to worship music. And my favorite, I still journal. Oh, how I love to journal! And you should see the difference. You can visibly see the difference in my journal from dark, heavy, manic and frantic to intentional, happy and hopeful. Free! It’s telling. So telling. So, antidepressants haven’t replaced those things for me, they’ve just made ME enjoy and appreciate these things on a level that I COULD NOT achieve while in the midst of depression. I can now look out towards others and up towards God instead of merely down. Always looking down. I can now keep my head above water, being the man God intended me to be instead of being underwater, fighting to surface for just a breath of air, only to sink back down again. I am grateful for my medication. I am grateful that Jesus heard my cries for help and saved me once again. Thank you Jesus!
And if it helps (I hope it helps) don’t listen to me. Listen to The Word of God. Here are Bible verses that I found during my journey, my struggle, on days when I needed it most. Not knowing what to do or what God wanted me to do. And of course and as always, God answered. Maybe these are the answers you need right now too:
Saturday before Father’s Day. The day when, for the first time since coming off of my antidepressants in the fall, came to grips with “I think I need help and can’t do this anymore”. I remember a great sense of peace and calm came over me when I finally abandoned MY vision of ME and what I thought was MY path and instead, embraced what I ultimately accepted as HIS path for me. I prayed “I don’t understand this Lord but if this is your path for me, I will take it.” This was the verse of the day in my Bible app. No kidding:
Oh, how great are God’s riches and wisdom and knowledge! How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his ways! — Romans 11:33
The day I took my first pill. Monday after Father’s Day. Still apprehensive. Still not sold. This was the verse that popped into my head. It was perfect for me and exactly what I needed, of course:
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous — how well I know it. — Psalm 139:14
Meds working. I feel incredible! Oh my God this is what if feels like to be normal?!! How did I live like that?! Thank you Lord! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Wait, is this God or the medicine? Is this wrong? Is medicine replacing God? Nope. On the contrary:
Whatever is good and perfect is a gift coming down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens. — James 1:17
Two weeks after taking my medication. Two weeks and one day to be exact. Incredible difference. Everyone can see it. I can see it. And Michele, my therapists, confirmed how desperately I needed it. Yet still…that voice. That doubt. The condemnation. Verse of the day. Your timing is perfect:
In his kindness God called you to share his eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus. So after you have suffered a little while, he will restore you, support, and strengthen you, and he will place you on a firm foundation. — 1 Peter 5:10
So that’s it. My story. Me. My struggle. My struggle with me. I hope this helps. I hope this all helps. And if you’re suffering from depression or anxiety or any other type of mental illness, I know how hopeless and lonely you can feel. I know it sucks. I know it’s awful. I know you don’t want to feel this way. And I know that God doesn’t want you to feel this way either. God doesn’t want you to suffer. God wants you to be whole. God answers prayers. And God answered my prayers and saved me once again with the help of antidepressants. And maybe, just maybe, God is trying to answer your prayers right now too. Your cries for help, late at night when everyone else is sleeping, but you cannot, so you’ve cried out to Him in prayer and in desperation. Crying. Sobbing. Wondering what is wrong with you. Maybe, just maybe, by reading this, God is answering your prayers to let you know that you’re not alone, that you’re not weak, that you, your brain needing essential chemicals that you are lacking, is not a sign of weakness or a lack of faith but a sign of science and a chemical deficiency that today, due to modern medicine, your doctor can diagnose and provide you with help. The help you need. The help you so desperately need. The help you prayed for…begged for…night after night after night. Just like me.