my chemical imbalance is cooler than yours...

I know it will shock some of you, but I religiously read the website dooce.com. If you're brave, you can check it out... it's one of my links. The author, Heather Armstrong, is pretty much everything I'm not: an outgoing and vocal ex-Mormon who can be crude at times.

I respect her immensely.

Last December I opened my inbox to find a link to one of her recent entries:

http://www.dooce.com/2007/12/13/because-i-couldnt-say-it-phone

I read it mostly so I would be able to have an educated discussion if that friend asked what I thought, but I was immediately hooked. Her honesty hit straight to my heart because I could relate to every word she said.

Like Heather, I've dealt with chronic depression and anxiety for most of my life. I knew as a young teenager that something was very wrong, but I chose for years not to get help. I was afraid of the stigma of therapy, not to mention a label, and I was steadfastly opposed to medication... until I finally hit rock bottom and all the prayer and Bible study in the world couldn't pull me out of my darkness. I realized I had a choice: treatment or death. I went with treatment.

For a long time, I kept my choice a secret. In fact, to a number of people I know, it's still a secret, and that saddens me. I consider my experience in therapy and my relationship with my therapist to be one of the greatest blessings in my life, and though I'm still not a fan of needing daily medication, I'm thankful for the stability it provides. I've learned a tremendous amount about grace and what it means to love like Jesus from the people who've walked through treatment with me. I've finally begun to see myself as He sees me. Recovery has been excruciating at times, but I have never experienced God as tangibly as I have during these months. I couldn't be luckier.

Unfortunately, in the conservative Christian circles I run in, far too many people still believe that mental illness and particularly being on psychotropic drugs makes a person less of a Christian. This ignorance deeply saddens me. So many aching people are isolated from the mainstream church because we hide our hurts, habits, and hangups for the sake of looking like the picture perfect congregation. So many others hide within the church for fear of being ostracized if people knew who they really were. That so many might miss out on the healing God can bring because admitting their imperfections would open them up to ridicule breaks my heart.

I hope that as mental illness slowly loses its stigma in society in general, the body of Christ will follow and envelop the hurting in its loving arms. Until then, I pray that the hurting people around me will find the courage to seek recovery even if it's not easy. I did, and it is a choice I will never regret.