The Evil Demon of Depression

by Laura

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Things were very hard for me. I was so depressed and confused. I would spend most of my day closed up in my bedroom crying. I didn’t know what to do to turn my husband’s heart back to me. I remember sitting at the table one day and telling him I would gladly begin wearing a head covering again if this would make him happy. He said something to the effect that he had seen women wearing head coverings that were not the least bit submissive to their authorities and women who didn’t wear one who were. I wasn’t sure if I fit into the former category but I was afraid to ask. I had worn a head covering for about 3 years thinking that it made me more spiritual. It was an outward sign of my submission to God and my husband. My daughter wore one too. I was trying to live by the rules I saw set out for me in the New Testament and the Apostle Paul makes it very clear that a woman is in disgrace if she prays with her head uncovered. He also says elsewhere that we should pray without ceasing. That meant to me that in order to be pleasing to God, I’d better wear the head covering all the time.

I felt badly for my kids at this point because I knew I was barely functional but I was unable to rise above the immense pain and depression I was suffering with. And Dale and I fought. We fought and fought. A discussion would turn into a 3 hour session of me pleading with him, accusing him , yelling at him and crying at him. I know that during that time I was not easy to be around. I am sure he got to the point where he dreaded coming into the room with me to talk, knowing it would turn into a “bash Dale session” as he would refer to it.

In my pain, I tried to make him see that the way he was treating me was wrong. It was wrong for him to ignore me. It was wrong for him to use the verses in the bible about hating your wife as a requirement of following Christ to justify his distance and aloofness toward me. It was wrong for him to spend so very much time reading his bible and praying because he was ignoring his relationship with his wife. He would tell me that he was trying to have feelings for me but it was as if I were a farmer. I was trying to grow some corn. I would plant the seeds and then every third day or so I would dig it up to see if it was growing or not. He seemed to think that his feelings for me were the seed and I kept ruining any possibility for growth by coming at him every few days. As time wore on, my meltdowns with him got farther apart. I remember celebrating the accomplishment that I had not had a melt down in a whole week! I had gone an entire week without expressing to my husband how much I needed him, loved him, wanted things to be better. I had just been meek and quiet and waited for him to notice me. It had no effect…this meek and quiet spirit I was trying to cultivate. I think I was just a time of relief for him that I wasn’t crying all the time and trying to get him to interact with me.

Finally, one day, after another session behind closed doors in our bedroom, I got violent with him as he was leaving the room. I realized at that moment that there was something very wrong and I called my doctor. She had me come in and we talked and then she labeled me. “Laura,” she said so nicely, “you are clinically depressed and I want you to take some medication to help you. Maybe even get into therapy.” In my numb state of mind, I didn’t know what to tell her. She is a wonderful Christian woman who I considered my friend as well as my doctor. I told her I would think about it. She handed me some antidepressant samples and I went home.

I was stunned. I was embarrassed. I was horrified! Here I was, a godly Christian woman with the Holy Spirit of God living inside me. I didn’t need drugs. I didn’t need therapy. I had God for crying out loud! What a massive failure I must be. What a loser to not be able to handle this situation. I mean, didn’t the quote on my keychain say “The will of God will never lead you where the grace of God cannot keep you”? Couldn’t I do all things through Christ who strengthed me? I should be able to handle this…what was wrong with me? I was quite judgmental toward “Christians” who took antidepressants. Or went to therapy. I didn’t know what to do. Dale was gone somewhere and I had to call him and tell him what the doctor had said. I was ashamed and the last thing I wanted to do was take medication. Maybe therapy but NO DRUGS! My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit after all…

Laura’s Story:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

More from Laura:

  • Lab Boy

    I have been reading for a week or so now, and I really have nothing germane to the post, but I want to thank you and Vykie for your writing your stories. Your histories are quite alien to me, though I have some in my family that are almost approaching the Quiverfull level. You have helped me see the horror, the tragedy and pain; but also the humanity.Your and Vykie’s bravery is astounding. Your stories have left me appalled, frightened, confused and many other adjectives, but most of all humbled.I don’t know if I would have that kind of strength. I hope I won’t ever have to find out.Thank you for sharing this.MikeG (LabBoy)

  • Anonymous

    I’ve read the entire postings of both yours and Vyckie’s and the one thing that stands out most is a ‘conversion’ that further enabled each of you to avoid taking personal responsibility for your decisions in life or considering the impact of same on you, your spouse and your children. The same applies to your spouses and puts you in a co-dependent relationship where, instead of persuing knowledge and embracing the free-will of choice, God’s desire/mandate becomes the raison d’etre for everything.”God wants me to go to Brazil” is the coward’s alternative to speaking the truth: “I’ve stepped through some worm-hole and no longer know who I am or what I’m doing and have doubts about myself, my faith and the purpose of my life”. In fact, living under the guise of His visage precludes any honest conversation or dialog from ever taking place, let alone giving one’s partner the freedom, distance, ability to confront their issues in any rational and supportive way.Religion is not therapy, praying is not self-meditation/introspection. Both of the later is what provides self-awareness and self-confidence. Both of the former do little more than transfer one’s bondage from society-writ-large to that of God; if for no other reason than convenience.From my distant vantage-point, these stories only re-affirm that each of us lives w/in the confines of our own pain-body.(listen to Eckard Tolle for an alternative voice)That we get screwed up from birth and burdened with the baggage of the generations preceeding us (our parents, their parents …).That this legacy should carry with it the old and exhausted belief that women are 2d-class and need protecting (read: domination) is the poison that directly contributes to the horrid conditions of more than 1/2 the world’s population (women) and their offspring. How children are raised and how they are educated is the sole determining factor to breaking this viscous cycle of role-models as biblical stereotypes. There is a place for belief and faith, for the desire to live a graceful life. But it has nothing to do with respect for Authority as much as it does for fellowship, love and empathy. When an Institution relies on guilt it undermines those ideals for a higher, ulterior, motive.Seeing the hypocracy of the last 8 years between the words and deeds of the Evangelical Elders only re-inforces my belief that it’s been a con from the start; women will never find their rightful place until they educate and assert themselves and find meaningful roles in the world besides spawning ever more children out of pride and misplaced duty.

  • Vyckie

    Good post there, “Anonymous” ~ thanks for reading.

  • Anonymous

    I’m so sorry that you were in a situation in which you had to feel guilty for being depressed–and that that caused you to put off treatment. That’s awful.Kristin


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