2) My faith is more authentic.

When I knew I wasn’t going to attempt suicide again, that I wanted help and wanted to live, my goal changed from constantly keeping up appearances to embracing my life with grace. I had lived in fear of anyone knowing about my illness. Pre-recovery, I was masking my pain and faults with smiles. As a result, I was also judgmental, using religion as a measuring stick. Now, I use my faith, along with my illness, to encourage and support others with similar struggles.

I did not find greater purpose in trying to be perfect. I tried to serve men and rules and ideals, but it didn’t save me. Instead, it almost killed me. I couldn’t please everyone any more. I felt empty, isolated, and defeated. Depression is human. It is an illness like any other and needs healing, doctors, and often medication. There is no more shame in mental illness than for the newly diagnosed cancer patient.

Mental illness has shown me a greater purpose in living. I can hide my arrogance, greed, insecurity, and my false humility, but I can’t hide my illness. Through my mental illness, I have found the greatest faith of all: faith in self and others.