How Jesus Met Me in My Depression and Bipolar Disorder
Community and faith are what saved my life from deep depression when I was 17 years old. I was in my last year of high school. I felt depressed and suicidal. It became difficult to sleep and I would have bouts of crying in my bed. Hallucinations and negative thoughts left me feeling scared. I didn't know what was wrong. I felt sad, alone, and abandoned. I couldn’t feel God’s presence.
It was a dark time but I believed God could heal me. I had grown up reading about it in the bible and learning about it from my parents. I had seen proof of it throughout my life—I had a disease as a baby that miraculously went away and a car accident at 5 years old. I attributed these events to His merciful love when I looked back at them.
But this time, was a little different. I needed to ask for help, I just didn’t know how to reach out for it.
One night, I was at rock bottom. I was having suicidal thoughts. I didn’t know who to get help from or even how to talk to God. I uttered the only thing I could—a simple two-word prayer, “Help me.” It was at this moment that my mom came to my side, interrupting the dark thoughts that could have led to disaster. God had seen me—she was the answer to my prayer. Tenderly, my mom lifted me from the floor.
That moment changed a lot. That moment said God loved me. That moment said He was fighting for me. This was only the beginning of a long journey for me one defined by God continuing to love and care for me through others.
Later, when I was hospitalized, friends and family came together to support me and my family. When I couldn’t attend Mass, ladies from Madonna House brought me Communion. School friends visited me and brought gifts. During the rollercoaster of high and low moods, I gripped my very worn rosary in my hand to bring me peace. Unable to recite the prayers, I felt a security that Mother Mary was wrapping her mantle of protection around me, her presence like a mother tree shading a sapling.
I didn’t have the answers, but I did have His presence and His voice constantly reminding me, “I’ve got you. No harm will come to you. I will protect you. Even if it looks impossible, I will get you to the other side.”
When I was staying in a psychiatric ward for a second time, I was scared and my moods were rapidly cycling. I was filled with self-doubt, fear, despair, and hopelessness. I felt like I was at the end of my rope again so, I turned to God again to take care of everything. In the depth of darkness, I turned my heart fully to the Lord and said, “I surrender. Lead me.”
Little did I know that He had something beautiful planned for me by living in a group home for a few months. It was a time of growth and transformation. I lived in a community with other people who also had a mental illness that gave me the ability to also visit my family every weekend. God was healing me through relationships.
It was also when God started to show me what more He had planned for me beyond my recovery.
When I first was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, I felt relief because I could implement medicine and therapy—solutions to the illness. But I still felt worried about how my life would be with a chronic illness. Would I ever be able to reach my big dreams for life?
During this time in the ward, God helped me through this time by giving me friends through another patient and a nurse’s aide who was a great companion. She would take us on walks in the garden where I shared my goals with her and she encouraged me. She was a great mentor and friend at the time I needed it most. I never thought I could be successful and in so many ways, I have been victorious—in my career, my relationships, my health, and my relationship with God. These victories have not been only from my effort but from the support I have received and God’s grace.
Jesus was and is my only hope. At the time, it meant letting Him take care of everything I was worrying about. To trust in His plan for my life.
Nothing can take the place of His presence. God helped me find a medicine that worked right away. He helped me find the best doctors and occupational supports. I received kindness and caring from my family members. And in this process of leaning into His presence, I also realized I am not my illness. Yes, I have an illness but knowing my worth as a beloved daughter of God helped me uncover my masks.
Community has been God’s way of telling me, He loves me and has carried me through my healing journey.
For 7 years, my older brother accompanied me by grabbing coffee and waiting with me at my psychiatrist’s appointments. God brought me friends when I needed them and gave me hope for a good future. He provided mentors, role models and job opportunities. He showed up in all the daily details to provide shelter, food and everything I could need to heal. He provided me with what I needed each day to get to where I am today.
Jesus taught me the lesson that we are not meant to do life alone. We are made for communion. That is why He gave us Himself in the Eucharist.
Sometimes I get scared but I turn to the Lord in prayer and seek help when needed. I learned that we need to take care of our body, mind and spirit. I needed prayer but I also need therapy, medicine, exercise and healthy eating and sleeping. My faith in God helped me to go through the trials of seeking help and getting healthy.
I still struggle with darkness sometimes. There is a constant succession of ups and downs. Jesus encourages me with the words from the Gospel of Mark, “Little girl, I say to you, arise!” I have a deep sense of peace and freedom in knowing that I am loved just by being. Nothing I do can increase or decrease his abiding love for me. God has been the ultimate physician.