Table of Contents

• Mental health and your past.
• MY STORY Of mental health
  • Being the big sister
  • A big shock that God used for good.
• So, why am I sharing this about my mental health?
• Coping

First of all, an apology. I’ve been working with WP about my Jetpack on my phone, which is how I sometimes post. I was experimenting, which is why you received two random photos. I’m sorry that happened. Today is all about mental health.

Mental health and your past.

This is Mental Health Month. I’m happy that our pastor is actually doing a series of sermons about Christians and mental health. As I listened, I thought about what to post and decided maybe the time had come for me to share a couple of things.

I hesitated because I loved my parents, and for many years before they died, we truly loved and cared for each other. I didn’t to appear disrespectful or dishonor their names In any way. I grieved their passing as though it had been different than what it was. But when it comes to mental health, we can’t deny our past and its influence.

I am very much prone to anxiety and depression. I haven’t suffered from depression for many years now, and seldom does anxiety rear its head anymore. But it did. AND FOR A LONG TIME. I am practically hard-wired to both illnesses if I don’t keep a reign on my thoughts. I do share much of this in my book which is free to subscribers of this blog. You can find the book on my menu.

I share it today because if you’re having a hard time struggling with mental health dysfunction, my story might help.

MY STORY Of mental health

As a little girl, I was always being taken to the doctor for severe painful gut issues. I grew up in fear, and because I wasn’t allowed to express it, you know where it went, don’t you? Right to my gut. Some of my earliest memories are of being doubled over in pain. So what was I afraid of? Here’s the hard part.

My dad was a gambler, a weekend drunk, and a womanizer. During the week, it wasn’t a problem. In fact, my dad never missed a day of work. That was a good thing because he worked the second shift, so during the week, there wasn’t much of an issue. But come the weekend-watch out.

All week I would live in fear of the inevitable fight that would occur. And I’m not talking words. I’m talking physical fighting with anything my parents could lay their hands on. The fights were mostly initiated by my mom because my father would come home in the wee hours on Saturday morning, having gambled away his paycheck with a night of drinking and alcohol. There were times he didn’t come home at all because of other women. The police were called to our home a lot. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

Being the big sister

When these fights arose, I took my younger brother into a secluded space , like a closet, or huddled under covers, attempting to protect him. The responsibility of being “the strong one” has remained with me throughout my life. Interestingly, through the power of God to turn negative experiences into positive outcomes, this strength now benefits me in a different manner.

I often wished my mom would’ve left my dad alone and just put up with it so my brother and I didn’t have to witness such turmoil. But I was a child, and children don’t understand the complexities of toxic relationships, who’s to blame and who isn’t. They often get it wrong. The rest of the weekend would be awful, finding me tiptoeing around, trying to avoid saying or doing anything that would spark the fighting again.

I never had friends over to my house because how could I? Monday morning would come, and I would have school to take my mind off things, and, of course, I was an excellent student. That’s often the case. And, of course, it can go the other way as well. All week, though, I would be thinking about the weekend.

A big shock that God used for good.

The cycle continued until I left home at eighteen. When I was about thirty, married, and a mother myself, my mother asked me to drive down because she wanted to tell me something. We lived two hours away. I knew it had to be pretty serious. I drove home, and she told me something I had never even suspected. It would have probably destroyed some people, but I was way past letting Satan have another moment in my life. The particulars I can’t share (You’re welcome to guess, and you’d probably be right.) because it involves other people. Now, for something you might not believe.

Before I left, I took my mom out for an early dinner before I headed back. During that meal, I led my mother to the Lord. You see, even though what she told me could’ve sent me down a dark path, it didn’t. I had forgiven my parents many years prior and saw them as imperfect people who didn’t know how to raise children because their own past was full of turmoil as well. My mom needed redemption. She needed peace in her life finally. That day she found it. Once again, God took something bad and turned it into something thing.

Both my parents and I had beautiful relationships from that time forward. They were both amazing grandparents. I could tell they were trying to make up for the past, and they did. I grieved their deaths deeply. I look back on those early years and then the later years, and it’s like a story I’m telling about someone else. I give God all the glory.

So, why am I sharing this about my mental health?

That’s easy to answer. I want you to know this:

Your are not defined by your past. Whatever your past has been it does not have to control you now. Your past is NOT your destiny.

When fear or anxiety rear their heads in my life, I look back and know the source. While I can’t change it, I can give it to God. While I was severely struggling with some of these issues, I began writing “Depression Has a Big Voice.” God led me to many resources that helped. He showed me I could be honest in prayer and not pretend to feel something I wasn’t really feeling.

I learned that I am not a victim of my past.

Actually, I”m not a victim at all. I’m an overcomer. So are you. That’s because of God’s love. I had no idea what God’s love felt like, but He showed me by the way my husband loves me unconditionally. I’ve often said what I know about God’s love, I learned from my husband first. (By the way, my husband’s background rivals mine and perhaps was even worse. The fact that we have a Christian couple and are more in love today than at eighteen just shows how God can work miracles.)

Coping

Guess when I’m most aware of feelings of anxiety and depression? You guessed it. The weekends. But I’ve learned to have a plan, and if I should choose to do nothing, it’s still planned. I’ve learned that’s how I move beyond those feelings. I don’t give myself much open-thinking time on the weekends. I purposely train my thoughts to spiritual things, like Bible verses, answers to prayers, praying in my head for others, that kind of thing.

God is able to heal your depression.

Yes, it may require medication, and that’s perfectly OK. Why do we think medication is for the neck down, anyway? Isn’t our head, where our brain resides, a part of our body? So shouldn’t it get help if needed? No, I don’t take any medication now, but I did for years, and for years, even though I knew better, I felt ashamed. I felt a failure as a Christian. That is one of the many lies Satan uses to keep us ineffective.

Lastly

I didn’t edit this post except for some spelling errors. I didn’t try to make it pretty. But my past, compared to the beautiful life I live today, is a testament to what God can do. Needless to say, trusting God was a huge step for me. It often is for those of us who didn’t experience a healthy father-child relationship. But I was able to get past it.

If you need to take a step of faith today, I urge you to do that. God can take your mental health struggles and make you whole again if you just ask. Are there things we do or don’t do that can trigger depression or exacerbate it? Of course, there is. But that is for another time. This post is about hope.

And God most certainly wants you to be free of whatever mental health issue takes away your joy.

God bless each of you today, especially those of you who are struggling. If you need help, make an appointment with a mental health professional.