You have put me in the depths of the pit,
in the regions dark and deep.
Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
and you overwhelm me with all your waves.
Psalm 88:6-7
I’ve struggled to write this year. I would like to say I took a long break from sharing my writing, but in reality I just didn’t write a lot. I’ve shared only one other full post this year - you can read it here if you’re interested.
I didn’t write a lot because I wasn’t convinced I wanted to be here. I did not want to live through another year of loneliness or illness. I did not want to live through another year between feeling too much and feeling nothing at all.
But, I did. At the end of last year I wrote a bit about choosing life and learning to rejoice. It was a small way to push back against the dark for a bit, just a list of reminders of why I might like to stay in this world.
I’ve written about my relationship with depression before - but I always want to write more to further clarify for others and to, hopefully, encourage someone else on the same journey.
The best way I know to explain depression and its various aspects as an illness is through Harry Potter - I know that sounds controversial for many Christians and if you haven’t read Harry Potter the example may be lost.
You really should just go read Harry Potter. You won't regret it.
In Harry’s world there are dark, terrifying creatures called Dementors. Muggles (non magic folk) cannot see Dementors but still feel their pervasive chill and doom. The recurring description of Dementors in the series is ‘they make you feel as if you will never be happy again.’
Dementors force you to relive your worst, most damaging memories and if they defeat you they suck out your soul and you become a blank shell, living in a body with no awareness of the world around you. Both are an accurate illustration of depression.
Some days, depression is a never-ending march of miserable thoughts stomping through your mind without respite. It is a constant berate of all the loss, guilt, and grief from your life. Other days, depression is a bleak void. Within that void you are numb, a leftover vestige of yourself moving blindly through the world with no attachment to it and no experience of it.
It’s either far too much pain or it’s nothing at all - neither is ideal and for me, at least most of the time, there doesn’t seem to be a decent middle ground.
In Harry Potter the spell to drive away dementors is 'Expecto Patronum,' translated it means 'I await a guardian.' The dementors are not defeated by this spell and I think that is crucial in their parallel to depression. They are driven away by the momentary exposure to an embodiment of hope and light. They are pushed to the boundaries, back into the shadows of the pages, but they never disappear and the characters are always at risk of turning a corner and being faced with the cold, hooded creatures again.
A Patronus drives the Dementors far enough away so their power isn’t debilitating. As Christians we find a lot of comfort in the truth that we have a Protector alongside us who shoulders our burdens and helps us carry on in the darkest of moments. He doesn’t condemn us for coming face to face with this fallen world, instead He graciously and lovingly walks alongside us, reminding us that these burdens are not eternal; earth is not our final Home.
Chronic depression can be an awkward topic in Christian circles. Maybe I make it more awkward when I blatantly say I don’t always want to live. Who’s to say?
Most of the time when we speak about depression we are coming from a really well-intended place, but words can be misdirected and misguided. We have an idea of what it is to be a believer and that idea revolves around an unachievable persona. The gist is be more obedient, have stronger faith, delight in the Lord and just be happy and depression will be a shameful sin that can be shrugged off.
A few weeks ago our pastor thoughtfully and compassionately taught a sermon on Psalm 88. This Psalm has been precious to me for years; it expresses so closely what I feel in the day to day. In a world full of shallow encouragement, it’s heartening to know that a passage as authentic and seemingly dark as Psalm 88 exists.
Some people want to skim over the intrusively painful moment the Psalmist is having and move onto a Psalm with hopeful steadfast love. But for me, it is comforting that someone who knew God so intimately could also feel so despondent and alone - not only that, but his writings in those moments were included in Scripture for all generations of Christians to read.
It validates the very real human experience of depression and grief on this side of Eternity.
Because it is part of humanity, depression is very much a part of the Christian walk. Some may never experience it, some have only a short season, and for others it is integrated into their days, becoming as familiar as their morning cup of tea (or daily chocolate if they're encountering Dementors). For some it is situational and for others it is a mental illness that requires intervention, much like diabetes or hypertension. Each are still loved and known by God.
We’re often tempted to push someone on from this season or to shame them into a pattern of false repentance for their melancholy until they match our idea of a productive and grateful believer - and I think when we do that we lose much of the richness God intended for community. (I say false repentance because I have not found that mental illness or grief is inherently sinful, rather our attitude and our faith within those seasons is what reflects the nature of our heart)
We forget the need for various human experiences and understanding. We don’t seem to say, when we speak about the Body, that those predisposed to mental illness, with sensitive spirits, prone to seriousness or melancholy are needed as well as those predisposed to happiness, or loudness, or levity. All members have their place and all reflect the intensely beautiful image of God.
It seems, instead, we can categorise those with depression as misfits. Those who need to buck up and pull themselves together in order to be better members of society, better believers. Those who need to eradicate their depression, their weaknesses, before they can fully experience salvation and glorify God.
But maybe these individuals exist to teach others how to grow in encouragement and compassion. They shoulder a unique weight with purpose, to show a different side of grace, a different walk, as we're all stumbling through this fallen world.
Depression is a heavy burden in this life like all other earthly burdens. It can be challenging to discuss with someone who has never experienced it or believes it is wrong. It’s really difficult to explain how someone can love and know and obey God and also be exhausted with this life and ready to leave.
It takes intentional effort to explain that, often, the thought of staying alive isn’t fuelled by some obscure, fleeting happiness but by very small, very quiet moments- growing houseplants, new projects, having good friends over for a meal, thrifting finds, new stitches in crochet, game board victories, coffee in a French press. It takes energy I rarely have - so I let Harry Potter references do the work for me and I know I am fortunate that I have found some really wonderful people to talk to who understand.
Depression may have seasons of respite and it may not. Like Dementors, who scatter to the edges but are not destroyed, it may become more powerful or it may abate for some time - but the reality is it may never completely disappear.
At the end of the series, when faced with an army of Dementors, Harry is about to give up. He’s seen too much death, he’s in the throes of devastating loss, his grief is too much for his body. He is too weak to think of a happy thought and produce a Patronus. He's overwhelmed by the Dementor's bleak devastation and he is on the brink of giving up, he notes that the void will be a relief from his pain - a familiar sentiment to anyone who has exhausted themselves struggling.
Then, it is Luna, the ultimate misfit character, who persuades him to carry on. Her whispered reason for hope: ‘we’re all still here, we’re still fighting.’
It’s a small, powerful quote to me. When I wake up in the morning and feel the familiar, crushing weight, I can say I’m still here, I’m still fighting, I’m still existing in this broken body. I’m still walking with Christ, who will always fight alongside me and for me. I can know, regardless of whatever I feel, that Christ is still with me now and will be until He walks me Home.
How wonderful it would be if we reminded one another of that more often. If we could see someone battling something great and dark and instead of skirting around the edges of their Psalm 88 moment we ran right to them, and told them, ‘we’re all still here [for you], we’re still fighting, He's still here for you'
Isn’t that what we, as believers, should do for one another and isn’t that what He is doing for us in every moment?
I write about depression a lot. I will probably always write about it because it is a part of my life. It may last until my final breath. And that’s okay. Darkness has become my companion (Psalm 88:18) and I will live alongside it until the Lord deems otherwise.
That is not a hopeless note - it’s easier to battle with Dementors when you know what they are, rather than stumble around in the cold fog of desperation and denial. It can also be easier when you know there are people fighting with and for you, and it is ultimately bearable when you know Christ as Lord, He who will continue to preserve and defend you.
Just as other believers have their burdens in life, the temperaments or struggles deliberately given to them to refine their faith, their hope, and their witness, I know this is one of mine. And it may sound strange, but I am grateful for it. My faith would not be the same if I did not have the capacity to understand grief, darkness, sorrow, to lament the brokenness of the world, and to turn to Christ for compassion and relief. This life is difficult, the fights are gruelling, but I am content in knowing that this is the life set out for me by the Lord.
I hope, if you resonate with this at all, that you are able to find others who hear you and who will remind you of Christ's presence. He is the one sustaining us as we rage against all the burdens and struggles of humanity in this lifetime - Dementor or otherwise.
For others waking up, exhausted, drained, daunted by another battle - I'm still here, still fighting, and I hope you are too.