Having Depression Doesn't Make You a Bad Christian

“You just need to have more faith.”

“Read the Bible and pray. That’s enough.”

“Christians should always be happy!”

Have you ever been depressed and heard these things from people? Have you wanted to scream or break down and cry and say, “You don’t understand!?”

I have been there. Several years ago, I experienced a deep clinical depression. Everything was going fine in my life. I was in a relatively happy marriage and doing what I loved for a living. I had a measure of worldly success. I was physically healthy. So why did I feel like crying at the drop of a hat? Surely this would pass.

I had God, right? The joy of the Lord was supposed to be my strength. 

I thought I was strong and could push through it without any help. Especially as a Christian.

But with each passing day, I woke up with a heavy weight on my spirit, a burning in my brain, and a crushing sadness in my chest.

I felt physical pain from the depression. At the worst moments, I literally couldn’t move. I was sluggish and had to simply lie down to try and fall asleep so I wouldn’t feel the pain for a few hours.

Many mornings before work, I sat in my car in the parking lot and wept uncontrollably. 

I’m not talking about the occasional blues. I was feeling something different. In the book Unholy Ghost: Writers on Depression, writer Susanna Kaysen describes it this way:

“It’s a trip to the country of nothingness. Reality loses its substance and becomes ghostly, transparent, unbearable. This perception of what’s outside affects the perception of the self, which explains why depressed people feel they aren’t ‘there.’”

The Psalmist experienced it too when he wrote: “My tears have been my bread day and night, as they ask me every day, ‘Where is your God?’” (Psalm 42:4).

Well-meaning Christians told me I shouldn’t feel this way. Had they never read the Psalms?

But they told me I was a child of God and Christians are supposed to be happy. They are supposed to be different from “the world” with all its sorrows. I believed that, but I couldn’t shut off the pain no matter how hard I wanted to.

Finally, I went to see a therapist. The first didn’t help. I tried another. The talk therapy opened my eyes to some childhood issues that might have been causing my troubles. I learned some things about myself. But it didn’t lift the depression.

At the end of my rope, I surrendered my pride and decided to try medication. The first prescription didn’t make a dent in my sadness. I was getting more hopeless and desperate. Eventually, my doctor gave me a new prescription. 

Two weeks after taking the pills, I woke up one morning and felt… well. Not super-happy, just not super-sad.

I could breathe again. I could get through the day feeling normal. I wasn’t constantly sad. I was able to function again.

When the medicine balanced my brain chemistry, it freed me to do more self-work that helped me to healthily grieve and resolve some family-of-origin issues. But before then, I was too messed-up to even start that inner work.

Countless Christians, even great saints, have suffered depression.

Augustine, Ignatius of Loyola, Elizabeth Ann Seton. The list goes on. They found ways to cope, but they did not live in a time when modern medicine was available. 

After her death, it was revealed that Mother Teresa suffered decades of dark depression. Maybe if she had gotten medical help, she would not have had to suffer so much. Who can say?

Some would suggest that depression is a cross to be borne that can make you holier. Maybe it can. My own depression made me more compassionate toward the mentally ill. I stared into a black abyss I never knew existed. And I came out of it. I experienced both the agony and deliverance. Despair and hope. 

As with any suffering, God can bring good out of depression.

But I firmly believe that depression is not a gift.

It is not a cross to be borne without any help. The biochemically naked soul cannot survive the harsh winter of depression on its own. It needs other people and sometimes it needs medicine. I did.

There is absolutely no shame in seeking help. Nobody tells a diabetic they shouldn’t take their insulin, or a cancer patient they shouldn’t try chemotherapy. The Bible says a happy heart does good like medicine, which means medicine is good (Proverbs 17:22). Taking medicine doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re sick and you’re being a faithful steward of your health by trying to improve it.

Jesus offered medicine to people who needed it. He healed the blind, cured fevers, and restored lepers. He didn’t tell them to be strong and read the Bible more. He didn’t disparage them for being bad Christians. 

He did encourage them to have faith, but they still needed his healing touch. For us in the 21st century, sometimes that healing comes directly through his touch. But more often, it comes through treatments like therapy and modern medicine.

As good Christians, we should take advantage of those blessings.

I’m no saint or theologian. I’m just a guy who has been through the fire and emerged intact, burnt but better. Able to live normally again. Able to be a better Christian and witness because I got help. 

Being so depressed that you’re bedridden doesn’t bring glory to God. Being able to move about and live and breathe free allows you to live a life that can give glory to him by being healthy enough to serve and love others.

Don’t listen to people, however well-meaning, who tell you that you need to be stronger than you are. Weakness—and depression—are part of being human, and sometimes you need help. Take it.

God wants you to be well. There is hope, and healing is available. I’m proof of that. I still take medicine today and, thanks be to God, I have not sunk back into that misery I suffered years ago. 

Life is hard enough.

Add to that a pandemic that causes anxiety and isolates us from others, and it’s a recipe for potential depression.

Don’t despair. Get the help God has provided, through his love, other supportive people, and if necessary, medication. 

Research the saints who have suffered depression and learn from their experiences. Ask for their intercession. Pray this prayer from Saint Ignatius of Loyola:

O Christ Jesus  

When all is darkness

And we feel our weakness and helplessness,

Give us the sense of Your Presence,

Your Love and Your Strength.

Help us to have perfect trust

In Your protecting love

And strengthening power,

So that nothing may frighten or worry us, For, living close to You,

We shall see Your Hand,

Your Purpose, Your Will, through all things.

Amen. And then take your meds if you need to. God has provided all things for our healing.