Healing From Depression Thanks to Christ and Medication
“And I think you need to make an appointment with a psychiatrist.”
When my psychologist said those words, I felt like the world stopped. Me? A psychiatrist? I had never thought about that.
At 22, I was convinced that my sadness and exhaustion were something I needed to overcome with more effort, more prayer, and more faith, and I didn’t think that I would need help like a psychiatrist — let alone medication — as part of my path.
For 2 years I had been battling a sadness that seemed to never end. It wasn’t just being “sad”; it was a constant emptiness, a feeling that nothing made sense. The good days were few and the bad days felt endless.
As a Latter-day Saint, I tried what I knew how: praying harder, reading the scriptures consistently, and going to the temple in hopes of finding answers. Sometimes I found solace, but it didn’t last long.
An unexpected stage
Accepting the idea of going to a psychiatrist was not easy. In our culture, especially in our faith, I find that talking about mental health is still a very sensitive topic.
I remember my first appointment with the psychiatrist. I was nervous like I was entering a place where I didn’t belong.
I told him how I felt and how I tried to deal with it. His answer was clear and direct:
“Your brain is exhausted, and there are tools that can help you. This is not a failure; it is a step towards your well-being.”
And although I left that office relieved, knowing that I could be healed, I left that appointment with more than just a prescription, but also a sea of doubts. What would my family say? What would my friends think if they found out? But, most of all, what would God think of me? Am I an unstable Christian?
Medicine and faith: A path of learning
Starting treatment was a mix of hope and fear. The first few days weren’t easy. The medicines took a while to kick in, and at first, I wondered if it was worth it.
But little by little, I began to notice changes. My mind, which had previously seemed shrouded in a thick fog, began to clear up. I could think more clearly, concentrate on my tasks, and most importantly, feel a little peace.
That’s when my relationship with the gospel changed. Prayer stopped being a desperate act and became a genuine connection. The scriptures, which had once seemed like empty words, came alive. One day, as I was reading Doctrine and Covenants 42:43, I felt a great comfort:
“And those among you who are sick, and do not have faith to be healed, but believe, will be nourished with all tenderness, with herbs and simple food, and this not by the hand of an enemy.”
I realized that mental health is no different than physical health. Both need care, and both can receive God’s healing touch, whether through a blessing, medical treatment, or both.
A way forward
Today, I am still in my healing process. It is not a straight or fast path, but I am learning to be patient with myself.
I know that my testimony and my faith are not less valuable because I need medical help. On the contrary, I feel that they are stronger because I recognize that I cannot do it alone and I seek support in the ways that God has provided.
I always remember the counsel of Sister Reyna I. Aburto, former second counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency:
“Like other parts of the body, the brain is subject to disease, trauma and chemical imbalances. If our mind is suffering, it is appropriate for us to seek help from God, from those around us and from medical or mental health professionals.”
To those who are going through something similar, I want to say: don’t be afraid to seek help. Talking to a psychologist, visiting a psychiatrist, or taking medication doesn’t make you any less worthy or valuable. Our Heavenly Father wants us to live with joy, and sometimes that joy comes in unexpected ways.
If you are struggling, remember that there is always hope. The light at the end of the tunnel exists, and with faith, self-love, and the right tools, we can reach it.
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