Understanding Depression: My Story
Hello Reader
I have been taking anti-depressants for over two years now, and the positive change in my life has been amazing! My sisters even invite me to more of their socials since I am no longer such a cynical pain in the backside.
I would like to dedicate this blog to those suffering from depression and those who have close relations with them. This is my story.
My parents suspected something was wrong with me since about high school. In my entire high school life, I only brought a friend to my house about three times and visited someone else about… well, less than that. I didn’t see why my folks made such a fuss about it. In my estimation, I was doing fine. Yes, I was a bit weird going for frequent prayer walks, sometimes after dark. I also slept a lot and got very angry when they turned the T.V. too loud for me to sleep and I hated exercise, but what sane person enjoys physical discomfort!? These were, in my estimation, personal differences. They just needed to stop trying to change me and accept me for who I was.
Actually, I did not have a clue who I was. I got highly frustrated about minor discomforts and offences, but I did not understand why…
My Christian faith complicated the plot even further. I had, and still have, a deep desire to please God. I trusted that if there were something wrong with me, He would have enough power and grace to restore me. Back then, drinking mental health medication was the same for me as doubting God’s power.
Despite all my reasons, my mental train derailed in 2013. I was staying with my aunt and uncle in Paarl (Western Cape, South Africa) while I was working at a Bible School in the nearby town of Wellington. Part time, I finished my qualifications as a high school teacher, but after graduation, the scene of high school was soooo intimidating to me that I turned down job offers. My high school life was terrible: I was a musical, theatrical guy in the rugby cultured school of Paarl Boys’ High… And I was in the hostel… ‘Nuf said. I did NOT want to go back to high school! My teaching practice was also a terrifying experience.
I refused. I justified how God could use me at the Bible School, because it is a tertiary institution in the God’s honoring discipline of theology.
My brain train hit the broken railway that June of 2013. I experienced severe anxiety attacks at night. I woke up multiple times each night with hot and cold sweats. Often times I would have to throw off my blankets and remove my long sleeved pajamas. For sick and feverish person this would be normal, but I did not have the flu and it was in the middle of winter… For about a week I slept only 20 minutes per night.
Out of desperation I called my mom and agreed to see her psychiatrist in the Cape area. I did not like the timid quack with his OCD-perfect office, but I was desperate. I took the prescription and made the most humiliating trip of my life: to collect my first dose of mental medication… with my mom… To make matters worse, I knew the girl behind the pharmacy counter! We studied science together at varsity. Fortunately, it was her colleague who handled my order and she did not know what the prescription was for.
I went home and I felt as if I was denying Christ as I took the first pill. About three hours later the medication changed my mind, very literally. It felt to me as if I became aware for the first time that I was halfway to the bottom of the ocean… And someone handed me life vest… And I was starting to drift up towards the surface…
The heaviness started to lift. The steering wheel of my mind changed from a stubborn Volkswagen Beetle, the ones that give your arms a painful work out every time you turn, to an automated Mercedes Benz with power steering so sensitive that it seems to make the turn for you.
I decided to commit to God’s calling on my life and stopped running away from high school education, even though it wasn’t tertiary or theology. I realized that I had a Jonah encounter with God: I was resisting the direction where He wanted me to go, and so He sent a storm to get me back on track. God often shows His love and faithfulness to us through His discipline. When we don’t act on His will, He starts to.
My first job as a teacher was in Mathematics, one of the most difficult subjects in school, at Brackenfell High School, the biggest school in the Western Cape Province. What a furnace! After the first two weeks, the pressure got so overwhelming that I had to see someone again. I decided to move away from the timid quack and looked for a professional with a balanced view between the biology, psychology and spirituality regarding depression. I did not want to drink a pill if I had to get counselling or deliverance.
Dr. Pierre van der Merwe was the answer to my prayers. He is a qualified neurologist and a former church pastor who still believes in the supernatural working of the Holy Spirit. After one hour of discussion, I felt that the guy understood me and my faith. He increased my current dosage and added another type of medication along with a very strong anxiety suppressor called Xanor. Apparently, Xanor is so strong that if you took it when you are not in severe anxiety, it will knock you out! My anxiety was so intense that it merely reduced my stress levels from a nine to a six. Sleeping pills helped me to rest during the night.
Thankfully, throughout this whole journey, I had the relational support of my church pastor, Ruan Slabbert, and my home group leader, Johan Koorts.
One of our church teachers also explained mental illness in the same context as physical injury: If you break your arm, your first reaction is not to pray. You rush to the hospital to get a cast! Why should mental illness be any different?
My brother-in-law has diabetes. Most people will not crucify him as a hypocrite when he takes his insulin shot. His body does not produce enough of the stuff, so he needs to get them from an external source. The same with my brain: It does not produce enough neurotransmitters, so the medication helps them to build up. It’s like a steam engine train has a leak in one of the steam pipes. The pressure leaks and the engine cannot produce enough power to function properly. My medication is like a welder that comes and seals the steam leak: With enough steam, the engine can now do what it was supposed to do.
Previously I thought I had to add more coal to the engine oven: I prayed more, read Bible more, was harder on myself, forgave people who never offended me, tried to think positive thoughts, but my efforts were futile… Although my engine room was ten times hotter, my train still went at half the speed. I was putting in much more than I was getting out. My coal reserves were getting exhausted.
I guess this is the point where most people give up. Fortunately, my faith in God’s love and power helped me not to.
Dear reader, if you or a loved one are putting in more mental effort than what you are getting out, maybe the problem is with your biological steam pipe.
My depression was not emotional or spiritual: It was biological.
Consult a professional train inspector.
Life can be awesome…
I have been taking anti-depressants for over two years now, and the positive change in my life has been amazing! My sisters even invite me to more of their socials since I am no longer such a cynical pain in the backside.
I would like to dedicate this blog to those suffering from depression and those who have close relations with them. This is my story.
My parents suspected something was wrong with me since about high school. In my entire high school life, I only brought a friend to my house about three times and visited someone else about… well, less than that. I didn’t see why my folks made such a fuss about it. In my estimation, I was doing fine. Yes, I was a bit weird going for frequent prayer walks, sometimes after dark. I also slept a lot and got very angry when they turned the T.V. too loud for me to sleep and I hated exercise, but what sane person enjoys physical discomfort!? These were, in my estimation, personal differences. They just needed to stop trying to change me and accept me for who I was.
Actually, I did not have a clue who I was. I got highly frustrated about minor discomforts and offences, but I did not understand why…
My Christian faith complicated the plot even further. I had, and still have, a deep desire to please God. I trusted that if there were something wrong with me, He would have enough power and grace to restore me. Back then, drinking mental health medication was the same for me as doubting God’s power.
Despite all my reasons, my mental train derailed in 2013. I was staying with my aunt and uncle in Paarl (Western Cape, South Africa) while I was working at a Bible School in the nearby town of Wellington. Part time, I finished my qualifications as a high school teacher, but after graduation, the scene of high school was soooo intimidating to me that I turned down job offers. My high school life was terrible: I was a musical, theatrical guy in the rugby cultured school of Paarl Boys’ High… And I was in the hostel… ‘Nuf said. I did NOT want to go back to high school! My teaching practice was also a terrifying experience.
I refused. I justified how God could use me at the Bible School, because it is a tertiary institution in the God’s honoring discipline of theology.
My brain train hit the broken railway that June of 2013. I experienced severe anxiety attacks at night. I woke up multiple times each night with hot and cold sweats. Often times I would have to throw off my blankets and remove my long sleeved pajamas. For sick and feverish person this would be normal, but I did not have the flu and it was in the middle of winter… For about a week I slept only 20 minutes per night.
Out of desperation I called my mom and agreed to see her psychiatrist in the Cape area. I did not like the timid quack with his OCD-perfect office, but I was desperate. I took the prescription and made the most humiliating trip of my life: to collect my first dose of mental medication… with my mom… To make matters worse, I knew the girl behind the pharmacy counter! We studied science together at varsity. Fortunately, it was her colleague who handled my order and she did not know what the prescription was for.
I went home and I felt as if I was denying Christ as I took the first pill. About three hours later the medication changed my mind, very literally. It felt to me as if I became aware for the first time that I was halfway to the bottom of the ocean… And someone handed me life vest… And I was starting to drift up towards the surface…
The heaviness started to lift. The steering wheel of my mind changed from a stubborn Volkswagen Beetle, the ones that give your arms a painful work out every time you turn, to an automated Mercedes Benz with power steering so sensitive that it seems to make the turn for you.
I decided to commit to God’s calling on my life and stopped running away from high school education, even though it wasn’t tertiary or theology. I realized that I had a Jonah encounter with God: I was resisting the direction where He wanted me to go, and so He sent a storm to get me back on track. God often shows His love and faithfulness to us through His discipline. When we don’t act on His will, He starts to.
My first job as a teacher was in Mathematics, one of the most difficult subjects in school, at Brackenfell High School, the biggest school in the Western Cape Province. What a furnace! After the first two weeks, the pressure got so overwhelming that I had to see someone again. I decided to move away from the timid quack and looked for a professional with a balanced view between the biology, psychology and spirituality regarding depression. I did not want to drink a pill if I had to get counselling or deliverance.
Dr. Pierre van der Merwe was the answer to my prayers. He is a qualified neurologist and a former church pastor who still believes in the supernatural working of the Holy Spirit. After one hour of discussion, I felt that the guy understood me and my faith. He increased my current dosage and added another type of medication along with a very strong anxiety suppressor called Xanor. Apparently, Xanor is so strong that if you took it when you are not in severe anxiety, it will knock you out! My anxiety was so intense that it merely reduced my stress levels from a nine to a six. Sleeping pills helped me to rest during the night.
Thankfully, throughout this whole journey, I had the relational support of my church pastor, Ruan Slabbert, and my home group leader, Johan Koorts.
One of our church teachers also explained mental illness in the same context as physical injury: If you break your arm, your first reaction is not to pray. You rush to the hospital to get a cast! Why should mental illness be any different?
My brother-in-law has diabetes. Most people will not crucify him as a hypocrite when he takes his insulin shot. His body does not produce enough of the stuff, so he needs to get them from an external source. The same with my brain: It does not produce enough neurotransmitters, so the medication helps them to build up. It’s like a steam engine train has a leak in one of the steam pipes. The pressure leaks and the engine cannot produce enough power to function properly. My medication is like a welder that comes and seals the steam leak: With enough steam, the engine can now do what it was supposed to do.
Previously I thought I had to add more coal to the engine oven: I prayed more, read Bible more, was harder on myself, forgave people who never offended me, tried to think positive thoughts, but my efforts were futile… Although my engine room was ten times hotter, my train still went at half the speed. I was putting in much more than I was getting out. My coal reserves were getting exhausted.
I guess this is the point where most people give up. Fortunately, my faith in God’s love and power helped me not to.
Dear reader, if you or a loved one are putting in more mental effort than what you are getting out, maybe the problem is with your biological steam pipe.
My depression was not emotional or spiritual: It was biological.
Consult a professional train inspector.
Life can be awesome…
Comments
Post a Comment