It Would Be Weird If You Weren’t Depressed

August so far— for the last four days in a row David has come home from work to a messy house, a wild toddler, no dinner, and a haggard, emotionally fragile wife.

The first morning of August I laid in bed with the sudden realization that it was August and that Kalea would have been turning one this month. I lay there against the pillows bracing myself for the pain— wincing and waiting— but pain didn’t come. What finally came was ….relief.

Okay, I can do this, I feel pretty good, August will be alright.… and then I got out of bed.

WHACK! SMACK! WHAM!

A flurry of emails in my inbox about finishing her headstone. Kalea’s birthday wasn’t listed on the extended family calendar. I was determined to finish making her shutterfly birth story album. And everything was fine while I was working on it— until the final two pages. Then the pain of losing her came rushing back into my soul and I sat there sobbing my eyes out because I would never get to read her birth story to her on her birthday. August has been a month of trigger after trigger.

Every new trigger wiped me out emotionally. I had no energy. I carried the boulder of grief as long as I could until my arms gave out and the pain and heaviness washed out with tears that left me feeling completely empty on the inside. I couldn’t leave the couch. My appetite was gone again like it was right after she died. It felt like my mind was malfunctioning— glitching out.

I sat on the couch and let Payson watch hours of Cocomelon until David got home. Within ten minutes of his arrival, I was in tears again. Apologizing for not being able to pull myself together and get the house cleaned or have dinner made or even just feed myself. I felt like I was stuck in paralyzing fog. A circling fog that briefly lifted to grant me several days of productivity and then returned with crushing, debilitating vengeance. David was so kind and understanding. He held me and told me it was okay to be fragile. We made the best of a hard day and I went to bed sure that sleep would be a big reset button.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t.

Sleep left me feeling more tired and groggy than rested. But David and I got up and went out for our morning walk with Payson anyway. Everything was great until we got home and I saw the printed workout plan waiting for me on the kitchen counter. I keep saying “I’m going to start working out again tomorrow.” Well, it’s tomorrow now, and there was my plan— and just reading through the reps and sets of the workout, I felt all the motivation drain from my body. I felt like I’d walked into a time warp and had been spit out right in the same mental place I was yesterday. I was already completely exhausted less than an hour after waking up. David suggested that instead of a full workout, I just do 20 push ups (in sets of five because I’m literally that weak). So I got down on the floor and… mentally broke. The gray cloud in my brain became a solid concrete slab. I couldn’t cut through the wall to make myself do a single push up. I felt pathetic and stupid. “It’s just five push ups” David said. But my mind was broken. Knowing that I wasn’t going to get through my planned workout made me feel like a weak and worthless loser. Which made me feel so down and low about myself that I doubted if I could even do five push ups at all. All this amplified my feelings of being a big, weak loser—which resulted in my brain completely shutting down and refusing to even attempt to do five push ups at all. (Honestly I cringe writing this because it’s so embarrassing but that’s literally where I was this morning so I’m just gonna be honest about it.)

The whole thing was so stupid— I just had a meltdown over doing five push ups! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?! Why do the smallest tasks feel so insurmountable and so overwhelming? The load of laundry to fold, the endless array of Payson’s toys spread across the living room, just opening the fridge to try to find something worth eating. Why is every little normal-person task so hard?

I fought tears and sat on the floor trying to place where all these low feelings and exhaustion were coming from. The only other time Id felt like this was on my mission in Portland Oregon. The lack of sun and the endless, oppressive cloud cover for over half of the year had left me feeling the same way— I described it in my journal as feeling like there was “a big, gray cloud pressing on my brain” or “feeling like my mind was always foggy”. During my lowest times, even maintaining eye contact was agonizing— I could literally feel how much energy it drained. I was chronically exhausted. Constantly felt like it was 3am and I was sleepwalking in broad daylight. In the darkness of the rainy season, I cried most mornings in the shower as I prepared for another day of walking around in the Oregon rain. After two fall/winters like this, I realized I was probably suffering from seasonal depression. Luckily, with some adjustments— a happy light and an excess of vitamin D things got a little better and gratefully, once my mission ended and I moved to sunny Texas— I never felt those feelings again.

…Until now.

A light bulb turned on— oh my gosh! This is why my brain feels slow and heavy! Why food still tastes like ash. Why I have no appetite. Why everything leaves me feeling worn out, drained, and weak.

This is depression.

As soon as I made the connection, a second thought immediately followed—

“It would be weird if you weren’t depressed right now.”

This is totally normal for someone who lost a child four months ago.

I believe that our bodies function wonderfully and instinctively to keep us healthy and alive. I believe in the intuitive wisdom of the body and that (for the most part) bodies heal naturally. This belief took root when preparing for the births of my children. Learning about and experiencing the physiological process of birth and how the body changes and adapts to grow and birth a baby and then miraculously heals from the trauma of birth while simultaneously producing all the nutrients the baby needs opened my eyes to how incredible the human body really is. When I actually experienced birth for myself, I was amazed by how instinctive it was— that my body already knew exactly what to do even though I had never given birth before. It made me realize that bodies are brilliantly, divinely designed to perfectly meet the demands of life. So it got me wondering— is there any evolutionary or positive function of depression?

I did a little digging and found this article “Depression's Evolutionary Roots”. Now this article is ten years old, very introductory and basic, and I’m in no way saying it’s the answer for aaallll depression— but it was certainly illuminating and helpful for mine. I think one of the best coping and life skills is the ability to re-frame challenges, pain, and set backs positively. It’s like in natural childbirth— the most effective pain management (from my experience) was learning to re-frame pain as sensations of pressure. The body will feel and experience what the mind believes it will. In a similar way, this article re-frames depression and explores the evolutionary purpose behind why the body reacts the way it does.

The main point the scientists make is that depression is an adaptation, not a malfunction, and that it brings real cognitive advantages. They explain that the rumination and isolation that comes with depression actually allows people to focus on their problems better and gain insight more quickly due to their withdrawal from activities that would have otherwise distracted from their problem. The authors explain that “… depression is nature’s way of telling you that you’ve got complex social problems that the mind is intent on solving. Therapies should try to encourage depressive rumination rather than try to stop it, and they should focus on trying to help people solve the problems that trigger their bouts of depression.” I love the way they say that! It is so relieving to know that depression can actually be valuable and evidence that your mind is working and functioning well!

They conclude, “When one considers all the evidence, depression seems less like a disorder where the brain is operating in a haphazard way, or malfunctioning. Instead, depression seems more like the vertebrate eye—an intricate, highly organized piece of machinery that performs a specific function.”

Because I don’t have energy for much right now except for what’s most important and because I spend so much time ruminating on Kalea's life and death— an unexpected positive is that I’ve been very productive in my writing and creative pursuits. The low feelings and relentless heaviness and intensity of thought have opened the doors of creativity for me. I’ve had more creativity in the last four months than I’ve had in the last four years simply because I cannot distract myself from it. The grief cannot be buried in the enjoyment I used to find in food, activities, and life in general. So I’ve had to adapt. I’ve learned to stop holding back and fighting the waves of sadness. Rather, I sit patiently in the darkness and peer around until I find light. I let myself feel the lows and then I work with those feelings. This is the bright side of depression. That depression can actually be very productive. Not in a “I-worked-out-and-went-grocery-shopping-and-met-up-with-friends-for-lunch-and-cleaned-my-house-and-read-a-book-and-gardened-and-made-dinner” kind of productive, but in a “I-focused-in-on-one-micro-aspect-of-a-challenge-I’m-facing-and-I-have-a-new-insight-that-will-get-me-through-today” kind of productive.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned from natural birth is that you have to work WITH your body and not against it. You’ll get where you need to be faster if you stop trying to twist away from your pain and focus on riding with it. Head on tackle that beast! Sit down and ruminate as long as you need. Be in a fog. That’s okay. Focus on what you can. It’s like those pretty professional pictures with low aperture— the creamy, blurry background contrasted with the sharp, in front image in focus. That’s kind of how depression works— it blurs out everything that distracts and makes what’s most important crystal clear and pushed to the forefront of your mind.

So have you ever thought that maybe it would be weird if you weren’t depressed right now?

Maybe you need to feel all this and maybe your body knows exactly what it’s doing. Maybe your mind is working so hard and it’s totally normal that your body can’t keep up. Be gentle with yourself. Maybe you just need a little more time and a lot more grace for the small things you are still accomplishing. Work with your depression. Put a saddle on that beast and harness the power. Learn to ride it instead of trying to stop it. If the body needs to feel something, you’re not going to stop it. You are up against an evolutionary response and you are wired to FEEL IT. Your body is adapting to the way your brain needs to work right now. Trust God, keep clinging to the tiniest sparks of light you find in the darkness, and trust the process. I’ve always known (and thought it was weird) that my best writing comes from my hardest days of loneliness, hurt, and heartbreak. Now I know why.

It’s the obstacle that creates the way for your success.

When I was in the early days of dating David, I confided in him all my body insecurities— that I fretted endlessly about gaining weight, that for years my life had entirely revolved around whether I felt fat or not, and that I deeply believed that I would never be truly loved, valued, or successful unless I was perfectly thin. David immediately replied— “Did you ever think that maybe you look the way you do for a reason? That maybe you’ll do more good and have more impact in the body you have than you would if you were in the perfect body you want?”

Well, no, I had NEVER, EVER considered that. His response has stayed with me for years.

Again, maybe you take your obstacle and make it the reason for your success.

Maybe depression, hurt, disappointment, and failures are actually a gift. Maybe these things tell our body exactly where we need to focus, grow, or change. Maybe they actually point us to CHRIST. Maybe it’s only in our darkness that we can truly understand His light and recognize His power. My favorite miracle recorded in the Book of Mormon illustrates this perfectly. Though it’s a tiny often overlooked passage of scripture, it has been life-changing for me.

It’s in Helaman chapter five. The missionary brothers Lehi and Nephi were imprisoned by the Lamanites for preaching about Jesus Christ. While in prison the Lamanites starve them and eventually decide to kill both Nephi and Lehi. But when they came forward to kill them, Nephi and Lehi were encircled about with fire and stood in the middle of the flames receiving no harm. The prison walls shook terribly and a cloud of darkness overshadowed the Lamanites. Terrified and in total darkness, the Lamanites heard a voice that came three times telling them to repent and no more seek to destroy the Lord’s servants. The Lamanites could not move because of their fear. One among the prison guards was a Nephite by birth but had dissented away and joined the Lamanites. This man Aminadab turned and looked at Nephi and Lehi and saw that their faces did shine in the darkness and that they appeared to be lifting their eyes and voices to converse with some being which they beheld.

And here is the miracle in verses 40-44:

“And it came to pass that the Lamanites said unto him [Aminadab] What shall we do, that this cloud of darkness may be removed from overshadowing us? And Aminadab said unto them: You must repent, and cry unto the voice, even until ye shall have faith in Christ… and when ye shall do this, the cloud of darkness shall be removed from overshadowing you.

And it came to pass that they all did begin to cry unto the voice of him who had shaken the earth; yea, they did cry even until the cloud of darkness was dispersed. And it came to pass that when they cast their eyes about, and saw that the cloud of darkness was dispersed from overshadowing them, behold, they saw that they were encircled about, yea every soul, by a pillar of fire. And Nephi and Lehi were in the midst of them; yea, they were encircled about; yea, they were as if in the midst of a flaming fire, yet it did harm them not, neither did it take hold upon the walls of the prison; and they were filled with that joy which is unspeakable and full of glory.”

Isn’t that the most beautiful passage of scripture? Think of the darkness they must have felt—a cloud of darkness so thick that they couldn’t even move— and yet as they cried unto the Lord (a tiny simple act of faith!) the darkness was removed and they were filled with joy. I love the assurance this passage gives that even in the midst of the thickest, blackest darkness the Lord will be there and will remove the darkness that overshadows you. It’s like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, or Daniel in the lion’s den. You’ll meet the Lord in the furnace, the den of lions, and in the darkness.

So maybe it would be weird if you weren’t depressed— if you were at your goal weight—if that relationship had worked out. Maybe what you are working out now in your time of darkness and depression is more important than what you’d have if things had worked out the way you wanted them to. Maybe darkness is really an opportunity to see the hand of the Lord in your life. And yes, maybe the darkness will keep coming back— maybe even every day. But if the darkness returns, so will the Lord. He will be in the darkness with you, and He will give you moments of light and joy and relief. And maybe, just maybe, this darkness will be the reason for your light.