I’m writing this account of my experience with depression because I know there are countless people who feel totally alone in their suffering. My prayer is my story will offer hope and encouragement to those who are suffering with depression, and for those who love someone who is depressed. You are not alone!
It’s difficult to know where to begin when writing about this painful season in my life. And it’s especially difficult to tell a story involving depression. Because unlike other serious illnesses (such as cancer) most people have little (or no) understanding of what clinical depression actually is. And I’m sad to say one of the main things I came to realize during my years of suffering with Major Depressive Disorder is that Christians seem to have the least knowledge and understanding of all. The most common assumptions among Christians is that depression is a spiritual problem, or the result of sin in a person’s life; or a reflection of laziness (or even self-pity). Out of desperation I sought counsel from several pastors, and not a single one was equipped to help me. I was met with responses that made it obvious they had no idea what I was dealing with. I can’t begin to describe the despair of walking into a pastor’s office longing for relief and comfort, only to walk out feeling worse than when I arrived. I’m very happy to say I eventually received the best of care from a Christian mental health clinic (more about that later).
This is not a story that’s easy to read. And to be honest it’s painful for me to look back on this time in my life. But I feel it’s important to be honest about everything or it will defeat the purpose. But as a Christian I can joyfully attest to what I have learned first hand; that what the Apostle Paul says in Romans 8:28 is true and absolutely trustworthy:
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
I came to faith in Jesus in 1987. At the time I was a 23-year-old musician playing in a popular Seattle rock band (and living that lifestyle) when one night, while on tour, I picked up the Gideons Bible in my hotel room and began reading the book of John. The power and truth of God’s word jumped off the pages and captured my heart. Once I began reading I couldn’t put the Bible down! At the end of that tour the band kicked me out because they thought I had become a religious fanatic! A few years later I moved to Nashville to pursue a Christian recording contract. Eventually my wife (Trina) and I moved back home to Seattle to start a family. I continued to write and record music and performed concerts. One night in 2005 I was playing a concert and the senior pastor asked if I knew anyone who would be interested in a position as worship pastor. I immediately knew it was what I had been waiting for; a way to serve people with the gifts God had given me. I felt I had finally received my true calling. At the same time everything else in life was more wonderful than I ever could have imagined. I was very happily married to the love of my life; and we had been blessed with three adorable kids. We were a very happy family. Then suddenly, in 2007 I was struck down by a crippling case of depression.
Depression wasn’t a new experience for me. I had dealt with short periods of depression from the time I was a kid. One of my earliest memories is when I tried to explain how I was feeling to my mom. My mom was concerned enough to take me to a pediatrician who failed to diagnose depression (which it certainly was). So depression had been an issue from my youth. But all my previous dealings with depression were fairly mild. It would only last a few days at a time; a week at the most. And when I was depressed I was never incapacitated by it. I could still spend time with friends, work and appear functional. But what happened in 2007 was much different. It was like an atomic bomb being dropped into the middle of my entire existence. There was no warning (and seemingly no reason) for the depression. It was as if I was basking in the warmth of the sun and all of a sudden the sun fell from the sky.
Before I talk about the seven years of depression I need to try and describe what depression actually is and what it feels like.
I’ll begin by saying clinical depression is something impossible to imagine or understand unless you’ve experienced it (or love someone who has). Trying to describe depression is like trying to describe physical pain. If you are experiencing severe back pain a doctor might ask you to describe the sensation with words such as “stabbing”, “dull” or “aching”. And yet none of those words adequately describe what it feels like when your back hurts so bad you can barely move. And depression manifests different symptoms in different people. The best I can do is to describe depression in physical and emotional terms. It was a profound emotional pain that had no obvious cause or point of origin. It was centered in the “core of my being” where we feel emotions, stress and anxiety; right below the center of the ribcage (the pit of my stomach). And that pain radiated throughout my entire being. It was an emotional pain that didn’t feel like sadness per se (I rarely cried). In fact when my mother passed away in 2013 I wasn’t able to cry or grieve.
Someone once described depression the following way: “If someone told me I had won 50 million dollars in a lottery I would feel no happiness or excitement. And if someone told me my entire family had been killed in a car accident I would feel no sadness or grief. I could only feel the relentless, howling pain of discontent raging within my soul”. That’s exactly what depression was like for me. I know this will sound hyperbolic; but depression felt like death. I felt like “the living dead”. I was physically alive; but inside I felt dead. And because my depression had no “cause” I could identify; it felt even more frightening and permanent.
Sometimes depression is triggered by life circumstances such death of a loved one, or a series of losses or failures, or any other life changing event. But depression can also be caused by chemical imbalances in our brains. The human brain is an organ that can malfunction the same way the heart or kidneys can. In my case depression seemed to come out of nowhere. It was unexpected and absolutely devastating. I was constantly looking inward asking “what is wrong?”
From the time the depression began in 2007 (until I was healed in 2014) it was relentless. During that entire seven year period there was only one time it released its grip. I remember exactly where and when it happened. I was so shocked that I immediately said to Trina, “It’s gone! I feel good! I feel normal!” She said, “You have to try and hold onto it. Don’t let it go”. But within an hour it was gone. I know all of this sounds unbelievable because it’s so extreme. But I’m telling you the absolute truth. For me depression was real suffering. It was torturous. And the fact it lasted for seven years made it all the more terrible and horrifying. I heard one doctor say, “When humans suffer severe physical pain from illness of injury at least they have a healthy brain to help them process what they are enduring. But a depressed person is suffering very real pain; while their brain is not able to give them the will to fight or allow them to accept encouragement. Their brain is in essence the cause of the suffering itself”.
For the first few months I would either stay in bed all day or walk in circles around our kitchen table (when stillness became unbearable). Walking in circles served as a distraction of sorts. One of the worst aspects of depression was a constant feeling of being overwhelmed. A task as simple as brushing my teeth felt like climbing Mount Rushmore. I am not exaggerating. The smallest task felt totally overwhelming. Interacting with anyone was so painful because I had nothing to give of myself. Every ounce of emotional energy was sapped by simply trying to survive. Any interaction with people was so awful. I have always been a very social person who enjoys engaging in relationships. I had nine groomsmen at my wedding because every one of those nine friends were so important to me. My bride had difficulty matching me with nine bridesmaids! But in my depressed state it took so much energy to pretend. It wasn’t that I no longer cared about people; it was that I could no longer care about people. I remember how hard it was when the holidays would come around. Now I had to endure Christmas mornings, when in the past I was full of joy on Christmas mornings! I loved Christmas and looked forward to it with excitement. Now Christmas was a time to be endured.
I was a pastor when the depression struck. Needless to say I had to resign from that position. After that I spent most of my time in bed, often curled up in a fetal position. During the first three years I constantly pleaded with God to heal me. And I still had hope God would answer my prayer any moment. When I entered year four I began to waiver in that hope. By year five I began to think I was being punished for sin in my life.
As a Christian I had struggled a lot with the issue of God’s grace. I knew the Bible very well and understood the precepts of salvation by grace alone. But for some of us it takes time before God’s amazing grace becomes a transformative reality in our lives. I had a very hard time accepting God’s grace. I would ask the Lord to make his grace real to me; as it was in the lives of other believers I fellowshipped with. After four years I began to believe I must had fallen outside the umbrella of God’s mercy. By year five I began to wonder if my faith experience had been real to begin with. Was it some kind of psychological illusion; or a temporary “spiritual high”? By the sixth year I was convinced I had been cursed by God. I had come to the conclusion I was going to be depressed for the rest of my life. And I started having a conversation with myself… “Jon, can you really live out the rest of your years this way? Do you want to live the rest of your years this way? Do you REALLY want to go on like this?” By the seventh year I simply wanted to be done with it all. I had endured relentless emotional and psychological pain for seven years and I was growing more and more convinced it would never end.
Throughout those seven years Trina and I saw several doctors; desperately seeking help. They tried every medical option available, all to no avail. Not only did they not help but they often made me feel worse. After every medication was exhausted the doctors prescribed Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT) a medical treatment that involves passing electrical currents through the brain to induce a brief seizure. It is usually a last resort used to treat severe mental health conditions. ECT didn’t help in the slightest (in fact it completely erased the previous six months of my memory). After years of failed medical intervention I was diagnosed with Treatment Resistant Depression. In other words the doctors told me they couldn’t help me.
By far the most terrible thing about my experience was watching my kids growing up right before my eyes; and I could not be the father I wanted to be. I was missing out on the the most wonderful and important years of their lives. I couldn’t enjoy it or experience such a blessed gift from God. My kids were essentially growing up without a daddy. Before the illness I had a vibrant, loving relationship with my kids. Now I was just this shell of my former self who would come home from work and go straight to bed. I can’t tell you how painful that was (and still is). I had dreamed of being a dad one day. And now I was missing it. I loved being a dad. I absolutely loved it. It broke my heart knowing my kids missed out on having a strong healthy father. That’s what I wanted to be for them; but I couldn’t.
Almost as heartbreaking was realizing the love of my life, my Trina, was suffering so much. We had once been so happy together. We were a very happy family. I had always worked to support my family and took an active roll in raising our kids. Almost overnight Trina had to take on every aspect of running our lives. She had been injured in a car accident years before and she was in constant physical pain. So much pain she couldn’t work and was on disability. While I continued to work sporadically; everything else was left to her. She handled EVERYTHING. She suddenly had to take on every task that I had previously been responsible for including paying bills, helping around the house, caring for our kids. It was if her husband and best friend had suddenly died. I knew she was grieving and I could not comfort her. I knew I was losing her heart and there was nothing I could do about it. I was no longer the person she married. She could only take so much. The Lord she would have to be strong enough to carry the burden she carried. And I’m so thankful she gave our kids a model of strength and integrity in the midst of such terrible trials. She is the best woman I have ever known.
I remember one day I actually called my closest friend and my closest family member and asked this question: “What is wrong with me?” In the past I would sometimes call and share what I was going thru in the hopes that they might have some words of wisdom or hope. But this day I was so distraught, so completely confused, all I could do was ask this simple question. Of course neither of them could answer the question. I was simply desperate to find some last ounce of hope. At the root of my question was a presumption. I believed there was something wrong about me that had caused God to abandon me. I was a moral failure who was being punished for all the sins I had committed.
If it weren’t for my faith I would have taken the option of suicide more seriously. As I began to ponder suicide there were two things that prevented me from moving forward. One was that I couldn’t bring myself to leave that legacy for my kids. The other (more powerful) prevention was my fear of hell. This is hard for my to write about but I have to be honest. After so many years of suffering I couldn’t make sense of faith (or anything else) anymore. I was lost, broken, beyond discouraged and was begging God to end my life.
Then in December of 2015, I suddenly found myself feeling significantly better. It was almost startling when it happened. I didn’t realize things were changing until one night when Trina, the kids and I drove to a Christmas event. As we were driving I felt compelled to talk the entire time. I was asking the kids about school and their friends. The kind of engagement that was once the norm for me. I was enjoying myself for the first time in seven years. I was experiencing something I hadn’t felt in seven years; love for my family. I couldn’t stop asking questions. It was if I was trying to catch up on lost time. My wife later told my that my oldest son looked at her and rolled his eyes as if to say, “What’s dad up to now?” He had seen me in a zombie state for so long he assumed I must have been putting on an act because it was Christmas. But it was no act. Something was different. I tried not to cling to it too tightly because I was afraid it might just be a fluke and I didn’t want to raise any false hope. After a week or so I began to wonder if it was finally over? I dared to consider the possibility God had healed me? I remember saying to myself, “Is this what I think it is? This is how I remember “normal” to feel”. After ten days or so Trina finally said, “What’s going on with you? You seem different”. That’s when I broke down weeping. That’s when I knew it was true. My seven year journey through the “valley of the shadow of death” was over. I had been healed by God.
In the days that followed I was seeing clearly for the first time in years. I had to face the terrible destruction that had occurred in my relationships with my precious children, and especially with my beloved wife. At this point in my story I would love to tell you that Trina rejoiced along with me, that she celebrated this healing from God, that we would brush ourselves off and begin the work of rebuilding our lives together. But that’s not what happened. We sat down to have a “state of the union” conversation to discuss where we were in our marriage. I was now faced with the profoundly painful realization that the years of isolation and emotional distance had all but destroyed the most important relationship in my life. During the depression I was aware of the damage being done; but it was so painful to face I had to block it out of my mind. But now I had to face the truth. Trina informed me that over the previous six months she had decided to separate from me. Her plan was to ask me to move out of the house after the holidays. She had made up her mind that she wanted a separation. I know some of you will be tempted to be shocked to hear this. But no one will ever understand what Trina endured for those seven years. I have used the word “suffering” to describe my own experience with depression. But Trina endured suffering every bit as painful. She went from being happily married to her best friend who participated in the lives of her children to suddenly being abandoned and left alone to carry the entire weight alone. She was so heartbroken that she went into self-protection mode. That’s what she felt she had to do in order to remain strong for our kids sake. Add onto that burden her own disability and physical pain. Only God, Trina, and I know what happened during those seven years. I am profoundly thankful she managed to last as long as she did. She is the strongest person I’ve ever known; and God knew she would have to be strong. I saw her faith demonstrated every one of those 2,555 days she was left to tend without her husband and life partner.
On June 1, 2016 I moved out of our home. After seven years of suffering from mental illness, now I was feeling the very real pain of a broken heart. I had lost the love of my life and I knew that short of a miracle from God our marriage was over. I was at the lowest point of my entire life, so low I had to look up to see bottom. And this was the catalyst that caused me to fall to my knees and cry out to God in a way that I had never, ever done in my life. Losing Trina was what finally caused me to surrender everything to God. As desperate as I was to reconcile our marriage I knew I had to trust God like I never had before. And that’s how I have been living up to this present day.
The past nine years have been some of the hardest days of my life. After six years of praying the Lord would heal our marriage, Trina asked for a divorce. We’ve been divorced for three years now. But after a lifetime of struggling with depression I have been depression-free since God healed me in December 2015. That is a miracle. That’s why I still wear my wedding ring. God has shown his great faithfulness in so many ways. And he has taught me to trust him and to wait upon him. That’s why I am remaining faithful to the covenant I made with him when I spoke my wedding vows. God has used the trials and tribulations in my life to make into the man I’ve always wanted to be, and man after God’s own heart. God has taught me so much.
Now I understand the beauty, power and truth in the many scriptures about suffering, trials and tribulations.
The Apostle Paul said, “The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:26-28).
Paul also says, “be confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6).
God has been so faithful to his promise. He has done a very good work in me and I know he will continue that good work. Today I am at peace and filled with hope for the future. I have surrendered my life to him and I can’t wait to see where we go from here.
