Magic

 

“If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to”

Anna Nalick Breathe (2am)

What do you call your higher power?  I call him God, Lord, or Heavenly Father. Perhaps you call your higher power by a different name.  If so, please feel free to substitute that name as I share my experience with you.  If you don’t have a higher power, maybe it is time for you to find one.

That night, I left my sister-in-law’s house with something new to try. 

Andrew and I helped the children into their pajamas, offered an evening prayer, and tucked them into bed. Finding a few quiet moments to myself, I thought I’d give Mandy-Marie’s suggestion a try. Switching on the overhead light to my bedroom, I quietly shut the door. I walked over to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and pulled out the pen and notebook I kept tucked inside. I sat down on the floor, opened the notebook to the first blank page and started writing.

Perhaps the tears came before I started writing.  Perhaps they waited until the first thought found its way to the paper. It doesn’t really matter. What does matter is this: I took the burdens from inside my head and transferred them to the paper. Everything that popped into my head, I wrote down.  I just let the words flow through the pen until nothing was left. And then I waited, pen still on the paper. It seemed my brain got stuck for a moment, pausing. I waited for a minute or two, until another flood of thoughts found its way to the tip of my pen. All of the worries, heart-aches, and stress, turned into words, I copied into the notebook.

I had tried similar techniques when I had gone to therapy. There seemed to be magic in writing down plaguing thoughts, transferring the negative 'junk' I held inside to something tangible outside: words on paper.

The next step was new to me, though. I looked at the pages I had written, spread them open on my bed and knelt down. I folded my hands over the paper and commenced a sincere, heart-felt prayer.

 “Dear Heavenly Father,” I began. “Thank you for Mandy-Marie.  Thank you for something new to try. Tonight I have written down all of the burdens I am carrying.  I am struggling with depression.  I can’t do it on my own.  It is too hard.  Will You please take this burden from me?  I don’t want it anymore. I will give it to you, if you will take it.”

As I closed the prayer, I felt a sense of peace.  My heart still ached, but my mind felt calm.  Then, I did the last thing Mandy-Marie had instructed me to do: I took the pages on which I had written all of the burdens, ripped them out of the notebook, and tore them into hundreds of little pieces.  Oh, it felt good! As if I was saying, “So long!” to all of those heavy burdens forever.

After chucking the paper pieces into the trash can, I climbed into bed and turned out the light.

The next morning, as I woke up, I listened to the birds chirping outside. I enthusiastically thought about jumping out of bed and making breakfast for my children.  I felt happy.  The depression was gone. The sad, achy, dragging, tired feelings I had been experiencing, had simply disappeared. My heart felt light. I felt energetic again. God had taken the burden from me! Mandy-Marie’s advice had worked.

It wasn’t the end of my battle with depression, but it proved to be the end of that episode.

I now had a new tool to use to fight the depression monster: writing down the negative thoughts in my head, taking them to God in prayer, and shredding them. How simple, yet how effective!

“Behold also the ships, which though they be so great, and are driven of fierce winds, yet are they turned about with a very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth.”

                                                                        James 3:4

 “By small means the Lord can bring about great things.”

                                                            1 Nephi 16:29

The Beginning of the Miracle

            I felt happy as I sat in the grass on that summer evening.  I had missed these Sunday evening get-togethers with Andrew’s siblings and cousins, and it was nice to be back, having lived hundreds of miles away for several years. 

            That particular evening, I sat with my Sister-in-law, Mandy-Marie, and other relatives, as she shared her latest life-changing experiences. 

I had looked up to Mandy-Marie from the time I met her. From parenting advice and books, to Bed-and-Breakfast recommendations for much needed marriage getaways, she was my mentor—someone who walked life’s paths just a few steps ahead of me, and succeeded.

That night, I listened intently as Mandy-Marie explained how, over the last few years, she had been seeking natural ways to treat Depression.  She had learned about gut-health, something we had talked about before.  Altering her diet to fit her body’s needs had gone a long way in managing Depression, but there was still something missing.  She explained how, while attending a seminar, she had found the last piece of the healing puzzle. 

Something awoke inside of me.  Ten years had passed since I was diagnosed with Major Depression.  I struggled with it’s symptoms off and on since I was a teenager, and finally sought professional help around my twenty-third birthday.

At this time I do not think it’s necessary to share the details of my own battle with depression; if you haven’t experienced it yourself, chances are you have witnessed someone close to you who has.  It isn’t pretty, and unfortunately can be a tragic battle.  Suffice it to say, I, like so many others, battled the Depression Monster.

Seven months of therapy and anti-depressant medication proved an effective treatment.  I returned to a fulfilling, happy life, married a wonderful man and started a family.  The next decade passed with only occasional depressive episodes. I felt lucky that my body responded so quickly and positively to medication.  I did not experience side-effects, and I was quite content to keep taking medication for the rest of my life.

Then, that summer evening, as I listened to my Sister-in-law speak with power and confidence, I felt a longing for something more.  What was it?  I could not figure it out right away.  She had something that I didn’t.  Something.  It wasn’t about medicine.  I was quite calm and happy with the medicine I took.  But she had something else that my body ached for.  She spoke with confidence and Power.  She had a sense of…Freedom!  That was it. I knew that’s what I longed for: Freedom.

Freedom from what?

That was the question that consumed my thoughts for the following days.  Exactly What was I seeking Freedom from?

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself struggling with yet another Depressive Episode.  Sadness and discouragement prevailed in my thoughts.  I felt tired.  I dragged through each day.  I knew the familiar symptoms.  I faithfully took my medication, without relief. 

Once again I found myself at Mandy-Marie’s house one evening. Like so many others battling Depression, I hid my symptoms in public.  I put on an obligatory smile and contributed to seemingly shallow conversation. Then, in a private moment, she asked how I was doing. Tears poured from my eyes as the ache in my heart burst.

“I’m having another episode,” I confessed.  I couldn’t even identify the trigger this time.  Looking back, I believe that depressive episode was one of God’s Tender Mercies so I could have the conversation that followed:

Mandy-Marie led me to a room where we could talk privately.  She opened the scriptures and shared with me a story I had read more than a dozen times.  It’s a story about a small group of righteous people who were discovered by wicked men.  The wicked men enslaved them and placed heavy burdens on their backs.  As the righteous people raised their voices in prayer to God, He heard their prayers, and gave them strength to bear their burdens with ease.

But the story didn’t end there.  Finally, a day came when God decided to deliver his people from their oppressors.  He caused the wicked men to fall into a deep sleep.  The righteous people escaped, and after traveling several days in the wilderness came to a land where a good king and his people welcomed them. Those who had been delivered lifted up their voices in praise of God, who had delivered them.

Suddenly I saw my battle with Depression in a new light.  I was still its slave.  Up to this point, God had eased my burden with medication.  Oh, how I was grateful for that ease! But perhaps that was not how God intended my story to end; here was my friend and mentor, suggesting that maybe it was time to be delivered from the monster which held me captive. Perhaps my journey was not just to endure the burden until life’s end; perhaps God desired to heal me so that I could testify of his goodness and power.

Then she shared with me the first tool I needed to begin the healing journey.
(To be continued...)
(Note...I realize my last post was titled, "The First Tool."  To avoid confusion with this and the next few posts, I have changed the title to "Fortify Your Mind" It is not a continuation of this discussion.)