Keeping the Faith through Mental Illness

There was a time when I seriously wondered if my mental illness was going to destroy my faith.  It seemed that everything in my life was falling apart, and none of the "church answers" were relieving my pain.  I felt completely disconnected from God.  I prayed, but all I felt was what I thought was His disappointment in me.  I read my scriptures, but all I felt was anxiety and inadequacy with every word I read.  I went to church, but all I felt was sadness and fear.  I didn't know what I had done wrong, but I was sure that it was something very very wrong, because nothing else would bring such intense feelings of sadness and guilt. 

Since I had just gotten married, I began to think that I had made the wrong decision in marrying my husband.  I told him that more times than I would ever like to admit (I still wish I could go back in time and somehow erase those words and feelings), but he patiently reassured me over and over again that God was not asking me to leave him in order to feel the Spirit again. 

I had never and have never since felt so much confusion, exhaustion from crying, heartbreaking sadness, paralyzing fear, and devastating guilt in my life.  I thought it was somehow my fault that I was feeling all of these things, and the only way to make it better would be to repent of the terrible sin I had committed (once I figured out what that sin was).

After a whole year of feeling all of this nearly every day, I finally went to talk to my bishop.  He was the only one I trusted to tell me that I had not done something grievously wrong to cause this pain.  He was so patient and kind with me as he reassured and encouraged me that this was not my fault.  I left his office feeling more energy and peace than I had felt in months, but that only lasted a day before I was back to where I had been. 

I remember sitting on the couch for FHE with my husband after a terrible day of anxiety and depression.  He asked me to give the lesson.  I was reading an article from the Ensign out loud, when I was suddenly overcome with fear.  I started to cry and told him that I couldn't do this anymore.  God was angry at me for some reason, and I was losing my faith.  I didn't know how to reach God, and I didn't know how to make things right.  I was slipping, and everything I used to know was slipping too.  I was lost and beyond confused.

My husband hugged me and reassured me, and then I went back to talk to my bishop again and again and again, until I could finally believe with confidence that I was not in trouble or disappointing God.  It wasn't until I started opening up about what I was feeling though that I began to realize that my feelings were not a result of sin.  There was something physically wrong in my brain, and I couldn't fix it by applying spiritual principles like repenting or reading scriptures or going to church, although those things are important.  It wasn't my fault, and I didn't have to equate how I was feeling to a lack of love or concern from Heavenly Father.  He wasn't disappointed in me.  I was broken, but I could be repaired.

While there have been times that I have still questioned or felt unsure about things, there are some things I have learned about how to keep my faith through the devastation of mental illness:

1. Not being able to feel the Spirit is an unfortunate but very real side affect of depression.  It doesn't mean that I've done something wrong.  It just means that my heart is broken, so the tender feelings of the Spirit can't be contained or felt like normal.  When I do feel the Spirit, even if it is for a fleeting moment, I write it down so that I can remember that moment and hold onto it when the Spirit is not able to be a tangibly evident in my life for an extended period of time.  I have also learned to recognize other ways the Spirit speaks to me, besides speaking to me through feelings in my heart.
2. I have accepted that it's okay to continue reading scriptures, praying, and going to church, while I hardly feel the desire to do those things.  Sometimes I worry that I'm just going through the motions, and the truth is, sometimes I am.  But I'm doing it, and I'm trying, even though it's hard.  I'm staying in the habit and giving what I can, and God is pleased with my offering of what I have to give, no matter how small it is on some of my most difficult days.
3. I can change the way I do things to help make them easier to do.  For example, I listen to my scriptures now, because I can't even open them without getting very overwhelmed and discouraged.  Also, I usually do initiatories when I go to the temple instead of endowments now, because that is what I can handle.  
4. When I can tell that I am getting overwhelmed with guilt at church by all of the things that I should be doing better, I stop listening for a minute and mentally repeat to myself all of the things that I am doing, while praying for God to help me feel His love and acceptance of my effort.
5. When I am feeling discouraged, I go back to a few of my favorite talks that bring me comfort and reassurance.  One of these is "Like a Broken Vessel" by Elder Holland.  I cry every time I read or listen to this talk, because it says everything my broken brain needs to hear and remember.
6. I look for joy.  This has become my greatest lifeline to feeling connected to God.  I may not feel Him near me very often, but when I see the little and big things He has placed in my life to bring me joy through my sadness, I know He is near, I know He loves me, I know He has not left me alone, I know He is aware of me, and I know He will allow me to feel His comfort in time.