Saturday, November 28, 2015

A glimpse at my experience with depression and anxiety

It was Christmas break 2011. A group of us planned to do two things: see the lights at Temple Square and go ice skating. I remember coming up to the ice rink and freezing. Not because it was rather cold outside, but because I was having an anxiety attack.

Anxiety attacks were not new to me at this point, but they also weren’t something I understood yet. I didn’t know how to handle them. I wasn’t even sure if they were anxiety attacks.

Anyway, as we walked towards the ice rink, I slowed down. Fun was about to happen. With people I really enjoyed spending time with. A lot of people. And I shouldn’t be allowed to experience something like that.

So, I backed out. I ran away from fun. Instead, I went to Panda Express and, for the first time ever, ate the entire meal using only chopsticks. It was quite an accomplishment for me.

That night, I wrote in my journal about how much I’d grown. “Now, I at least go,” I wrote. I might not have gone ice skating, but I went with the group, I made it to Salt Lake. That was a huge accomplishment for me. More so than the chopsticks.

I’ve never been good in groups. But I honestly enjoy being around people. I enjoy social events. However, I’m not good at them and they are exhausting.  I’m awful at meeting new people. I often get carried away when trying to introduce myself. I either say absolutely nothing or I go overboard and tell this stranger everything from my favorite flavor of gum to the age and hair color of all my siblings.

The semester leading up to this Christmas break was a game changer for me. I made a new best friend – one who hadn’t grown up in the same town as me. I invited dozens of people to my apartment each week so that I could make them tacos. I even walked right up to a guy I was interested in and told him I liked him. I finished writing a children’s story and it wasn’t even for an assignment. I had a consistent group of friends – a support group I knew I could turn to. For the first time in my life, I realized that I could care deeply for people who weren’t family.

I couldn’t handle it though. Many nights were spent wandering around the campus, iPod playing depressing music, tears coming down my face. It overwhelmed me. To think that I was making friends? People were enjoying spending time with me? I was having fun away from my family? And, the weirdest part of all, I seemed to be okay with it? This wasn’t right.

Just writing about it now is overwhelming me. My stomach is tight, a heavy pressure is resting on my chest, my palms are sweaty, my breathing is heavy and quick.

So, anxiety. It’s real. I deal with it every day. It has prevented me from making friends, from spending time with the friends I’ve actually managed to make, and many more things.

Something else is real. Depression. It seems that these things are often linked. I rarely hear someone bring up one without mentioning the other. I don’t normally talk about how I deal with both every day. But I do.

Four years ago, when I walked towards an ice rink in Salt Lake, something told me I didn’t deserve to have fun. I wasn’t sure what to think or what I was feeling. So I left.

In order for me to enjoy life, I have to be completely aware of my emotions. I need to know what I’m feeling – if I’m feeling happy, sad, angry, indifferent… If I don’t know, then I can’t respond to the age old question of “how are you?” Saying “I’m good” would be a lie. And, you see, I can’t lie if I don’t know the truth.

Depression doesn’t mean I can’t ever feel happiness. My happiness just comes in spurts. I’ll be happy for about two minutes, then something will whisper in the back of my mind that I don’t deserve to feel that happiness. I’m able to fight it off. I know how to push it down and not dwell on it. Sometimes, it is a quick battle and I can bring the happiness back in just a few minutes. Other times, it takes longer. But, the point is, I’m not sure I currently know what it feels like to be happy for longer than two minutes.

Is that normal? Are most people able to feel happiness for longer than two minutes? Does everyone else have to battle the depression voice telling them they have to be sad?

There is one type of happiness that I feel is an exception to this. That happiness comes from God. It’s a feeling of peace, of comfort. When sitting in the temple, I don’t have to fight the voice telling me I can’t be happy. When reading my scriptures, I don’t have to feel anxious about life.

I mentioned that I know how to fight it off. It comes from using the Atonement. Christ didn’t just suffer for my sins, He suffered for this depression I’m feeling, for the anxiety I feel. He knows what it is like to struggle to have control over your emotions. He knows because He felt it. He went through it for me.


So, when that voice whispers that I shouldn’t be happy, another voice whispers back that happiness is possible. I know that one day I’ll be able to experience never-ending happiness (Mosiah 2:41). As I keep the commandments, and use the atonement daily, I’m getting one step closer to that happiness. It’s hard. Battling depression and anxiety isn’t easy. Talking about it isn’t easy. Writing about it isn’t easy. Thinking about it isn’t easy. But, the hope to one day be rid of this, to one day “dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness,” that hope is worth it. 

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