Angharad gives us a snapshot of her process from not taking medication, to being on prescribed antidepressants, long-term.
I walked down from the church stage, where I had been giving a short testimony of overcoming depression…
An excited couple came up to me and asked, ‘Did you stop your medication?’ To their surprise, I gave an enthusiastic answer. ‘No, I’ve only just started taking them’. I suspect I may have disappointed them and not met their expectations, as the idea that God could use medication to assist in the healing of mental health conditions still seems to carry a great deal of stigma.
I have often imagined myself speaking to a hypothetical church congregation and challenging them with the following debate:
‘How many people here wear glasses or contact lenses?’
I would wait for many hands to go up, without shame. I would then ask if they would be willing to dispose of their lenses and frames; trusting God to heal their eyesight.
I will never know the real response to this imagined scenario, but I do know that it is socially acceptable, even for Christians who believe that God can heal, to wear contacts or glasses, without trusting God for a miracle. Yet, if someone has a mental health problem, we can judge the fact that they are taking medication, rather than rejoice in the brilliance of medicine to help people who suffer with poor mental health.
My father is a scientist and I am indebted to him for raising me to see no disparity between faith and science. God is the ultimate Creator - just think of the entrepreneurship, vision, imagination and creativity required to make us and this beautiful earth. And are we not made in His image? Therefore, I see it as a fulfillment of our God-given nature that we are innovative and can come up with scientific solutions to human problems.
I became a Christian at 23, just after my mum died. At the time of her death, I was still struggling with suicidal depression. No one has been able to explain why I developed a propensity towards depression, but the more I learn about childhood trauma, the more I see the direct correlation between the death of my brother at age 4 (my first childhood memory) and suicidal depression. I am extremely grateful to the world of psychotherapy and childhood development for shedding so much light on the reasons why losing my brother, at such a formative age, would have had such a negative impact upon my development; coupled with a family of origin that were not equipped to help me heal; parents who were dealing with their own grief and their poor decisions - compounding the disruption of my own emotional, psychological and relational development.
God made us to be human, raised by humans and to live in a world full of other humans. None of which are perfect.
Pain is a part of life. Pain is painful. If pain cannot find a healthy outlet, it will fester and grow.
Over the years, I have received prayer at many church services, of all denominations. I have attended healing retreats; I was a resident at Mercy Ministries UK; I saw an excellent therapist on a bi-weekly basis. I would journal, make sure I got enough sleep, eat a balanced diet, belong to a Christian community, serve the marginalised of society, tithe, have quiet times, read books, fast and pray, listen to podcasts, spend time in nature, practised Sabbath rest… whatever, you name it, I did it!
And I have no regrets. I am convinced that all of these, and some in great measure, contributed to my maturity and healing. But, despite the fact that I had stopped trying to take my own life, the default track in my brain would frequently take me down the path of suicidal ideation; even when I battled and fought against it with all my might..
…eventually, my husband suggested that I call the GP.
I was reluctant, but she was lovely and prescribed me some meds. I was skeptical about taking antidepressants, convinced that they wouldn’t work and that I would have some terrible side-effects (which can be true for some medications). But, within the 3-10 day mark, I began to feel better.
After a month I began to think, ‘Is this how other people feel? Normal? Is this what I have been missing out on for all of these years? Can this too, be freedom?’ It was, and is a miracle.
I have no shame about being on medication. I know that I know, that I know, that I continue to give my all to be free from depression and part of that freedom is having the freedom to take medication that helps alleviate the pain of depression. The medication has given me margin - instead of constantly surviving the depression, I can now see my therapist to talk about the root issues of my depression, so that I can experience even more healing. One day, I may not need meds anymore, but I am also OK with needing to be on them for the rest of my life….