Recently, I asked what topics people would be interested in reading about and a friend asked how I kept my faith through postpartum depression. This is such a good question- especially if you grew up in a more conservative environment like I did and were taught that Christians couldn’t possibly experience things like depression. If they did- they weren’t good enough Christians.

I grew up with a Christianity that emphasized outward shows of faith and very heavy on the emotions. Not always and not for all- but I internalized this belief that if I didn’t cry at least once during church service, my faith was not strong enough. As I became an adult, I had to accept that so much of my faith was based on expectations of others, not what I truly believed. Personally, my faith is a more quiet one. One that isn’t displayed through my tears and wails during prayer- but one that KNOWS no matter what, God is in control. He is the master of my life. I attribute my faith to my relaxed and very calm demeanor- not much fazes me- because I know there is a steady hand guiding me and everything will somehow work out.

When I was hit with PPD, so much of my calm nature ceased to exist. I lost the ability to reign in my anger, rage, hurt and distrust. I was overcome with anxiety; at times, my inability to hold it in would manifest itself physically. I would feel intense rage, that when it passed, I wouldn’t even know why I felt that rage. I literally could not remember and would feel confused. This happened on a regular basis and I truly felt like I was going insane.

But through it all, I knew this was a disease, just like all the other diseases, and not caused by God.

I know there are some who believe depression is from the devil, or a result of spiritual warfare… some believe it’s payback for some sin in your past or that of your family. Although this is what I heard from many in my community when I was younger, I did not believe it; I believe our brain is an organ and gets sick just like the rest of our body. Once I was diagnosed with PPD, I knew the end would come eventually because a diagnoses usually means treatment is available and that brought me relief.

So through it all, my faith in God didn’t waver. I found myself crying out to God for help in moments of isolation and fear. Moments when my mind thought about leaving this earth, I would ask God to give me strength and take those thoughts away. That being said, I still had to do the work of applying the treatment I was receiving and let me tell you- that did not come easily. But because I didn’t blame God for this, I didn’t expect Him to take it away and make it magically disappear. Depression is a reality for millions of people- believers or not. I think there are those who think God isn’t real because suffering exists. I don’t have magical words to change their mind, but I can only speak from the experience I’ve lived through. Suffering DOES exist, but I choose to believe that God is with me because He’s granted me the gift of faith.

The gift of faith is the faint hope I’d feel when morning came. It’s the waves of grace I’d feel from my loved ones in moments after I’d said hurtful and ugly things in a fit of rage. It was the glimpses of joy I’d feel watching my son discover the world around him. It was the unconditional love from my child and husband. The gift of faith was being in the deepest well with no visible light, but a knowledge that I am not alone.

I think the belief that Christians can’t possibly experience things like anxiety or depression is really dangerous. To deny the existence of a real disease is to deny the need for professional help and diagnoses. Imagine if people thought Christians can’t possibly get cancer? I am encouraged by the amount of younger people within my community across the country who are open to discussing mental health and learning more. This means change can happen- but so much damage has been done. To deny the need for mental health education within any community is careless, selfish and in my opinion, not Christlike at all!

*majority of those who responded grew up in the Slavic community.