Yesterday, I was reading Tomie dePaola’s The Miracles of Jesus with my four-year-old daughter. She listened attentively, but I could see that most of the wonders didn’t impress her much. In these short narratives, some kind of grown-up problem is introduced—and then poof, God solves it, The End. I think she saw Jesus acting more or less like all adults act: making good things appear arbitrarily, making sick people feel better, occasionally being cranky and strange, and wishing people would say “thank you” more often. It was cool, but it didn’t mean much to her.
Jairus’ daughter, however, really got her attention—maybe because it was a full story, with suspense, despair, and a happy ending, plus the hint of a full life to come.
Jesus hears the news that the girl was sick, but He isn’t teleported to her bed—He walks, one foot in front of the other, on His way to her. And when He gets there, it’s too late—her family is weeping; the girl, the poor little thing who wanted to be healed, is already dead.
My daughter got very quiet at this point. We read on:
“But Jesus said, ‘Do not weep. She is not dead. She is asleep.’
And the people only laughed at him, knowing that she was dead.
She looked at me with big eyes. They laughed at Jesus!
Jesus took her by the hand and said, ‘Child, arise.’
And her spirit returned and she got up at once. Then Jesus told them to give her something to eat.”
At this point, my daughter hurled herself at me and gave me a big, squeezing hug—she got that part! She knows about being sad, needing help, waiting far too long, being rescued, and then having something to eat, because all these ups and downs make you hungry. And then life goes on, once you have been saved. Here was a miracle she could appreciate—the kind that’s part of a story.
I got it, too, because I know this story. You could say that, as a high school and college student, I “struggled” with depression, but that’s not really the word. I lived there. I was being swallowed whole, day after day, and I could not get out. Wherever people led me, I would go, whether they liked or loved me, hated me, or just found me useful.
One winter, I went with my mother to a charismatic healing Mass, because it couldn’t hurt. The service was emotional—tacky, to be honest— and the fervor of the scattered congregation seemed a little sheepish and forced, as they softly hooted and called “Amen!” into the chilly air of the church. We lined up and the priest recited some words of healing—I forget them utterly—over each of us. He gave us each a firm shove on the forehead, to put us off balance in case the Holy Spirit wanted to overcome anyone. A few people crumpled and passed out, snow melting quietly off their boots onto the floor. Most of us just staggered a bit under the pressure and then went back to our seats.
Well, another dead encounter with dead people in a dead world. I went to sit down. Nothing had changed because nothing could change. I was dead, and everyone else was allowed to be alive. Why? Who knows? Someone had been sent for help, but help would not come. Help was not for me.
And then I heard these words in my head, “You made Me wait. Now you can wait for a while.” They were not my words. The tone was warm, a little sad, with a small vein of humor: I think I was being teased, chided for taking so long to send for help. You like games, talitha? All right, I will play. Now, wait.
If you have ever lived inside a black hole, if you have moved about the world enclosed in a dome of sound proof glass, with no voices but your own voice, which you hate above all other sounds in the world; if you have felt so bad for so long that you don’t even want life to get better, you just want it to be over—then you will understand that it was very, very good to hear this voice.
I was not merely sitting, it told me. I was sitting and waiting. Someone was with me; or at least, someone was on the way. I was happy to wait. I was happy! This was new.
That was how I began to be healed. It was a long road of waiting, after I was healed. It is a long road. But here is what I know: as long as we still have breath in us, we are not dead, we are only sleeping. We are not alone; we are waiting for Christ to arrive.
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You are one of the bravest people I know. Thank you for sharing this.
Oh Simcha. I wish I had known you then. I have struggled mightily in such a vein. If I had only known that having children would help me do for others what I could not seem to do for myself, and in so doing I was helped. I have never heard the interior voice; what a gift.
A consoling thought that I will meditate on today—maybe by meditating on it, it will sink in a little.
My struggles during that time of my life were very similar. I also went to a healing mass. This priest barely touched my forehead and I went down like a rock and couldn’t move for 20 minutes. “Be still and know that I am God.” Those words went through me. I could not believe God was speaking to me. But I did believe. Thank you for sharing. I feel a lot less alone right now in what I experienced.
Simcha, I still struggle with this and I wait in joyful hope for God to speak to me. In the meantime, He brought this to my attention today, and you will never know how much it has helped me. Please pray for me—I’ll return the favor.
—A fan.
Thank you!
So many people struggle with depression - I wish there is much more articles about it.
Bawling, Simcha. I’m just…bawling.
“if you have felt so bad for so long that you don’t even want life to get better, you just want it to be over…”
Thank you for having the courage to write those words. As a Catholic, nothing makes us feel more guilty than wanting life to be over. Yet, that desire is expressed repeatedly in the Psalms, and in the lives of those saints (like Bl. Mother Teresa) who lived through the dark night. Making the gritty decision to wait, for God-knows-what, in the midst of such darkness is the truest expression of the virtue of hope.
Beautiful…and a wonderful reminder that we wait in joyful hope. Thank you.
Thank you for sharing your experience. Lots of us struggle with depression throughout our lives, sometimes for no apparent reason, and it helps to remember you are not the only one. I agree that in the darkness and silence of despair the voice of the Shepherd is the most welcomed sound.
There wasn’t a voice exactly, for me. It was more of a knowing. It didn’t say, “Shape up, you have other people to think about besides yourself.” It said, “It’s over.” And it was. The misery was gone. Not the struggles, but the misery. Sometimes I think He was waiting for me to let go of it on my own, but when I couldn’t, He took it from me. He set in motion a course that I never would have chosen in my despair and it led me out. And I didn’t feel any contempt for myself for not having control, just a gentle and loving help. No human can do that for you. So I thank God with all my heart.
I know how hard this was to write. And I’m glad you did.
Wow, well put. I struggled with similar things until I moved out of my parents’ house for good, got a job, got married, and started to see myself as having some ability to change directions. The spiritual help wasn’t more obvious until I had a baby and could see how real God’s love must be.
Wow. This was a great article Simcha! Thank you so much for sharing!
Thank you for sharing, Simcha. Words of comfort, having had the Black Dog at my throat for so long. Thank you—glory to God for His grace and healing!
Simcha,
My story is like yours…but just the opposite. I was at the top of my game in high school and college, indefatigable, type A+ personality, try anything, succeed at everything. Then I had my first child. Within days I was drowning in severe post partum depression, though no one quite knew what it was nor were there any real viable treatments available for a mom who would not wean her new born.
I suffered quietly with know one knowing through 7 pregnancies, 4 births and 12 years of this. Even went to many healing masses, was anointed, prayed over…
God chose to heal me through a counselor and a doctor, which took more faith on my part than if He’d just healed me outright or through prayer.
God works His way in His time and we are each the better for it.
Blessings~ you are a true kindred spirit, Simcha!
P.S. Now I am a Type A- or B+ personality and much the happier for it.
I am glad you climbed out of the dark hole, and I am glad that you heard a voice that helped you climb out.
For those of us who haven’t heard this voice yet, I want to know if you had additional help that aided the journey out. No judgements on what or how. Asking for personal reasons.
Beautiful sharing Simcha! Having struggled with postpartum depression, and prayed for God to help me, I just wanted to point out that there are great life changing meds available out there too. God may heal you out and out like He did you, or He may want you to see a doctor and deal with your “imbalances” that way. Also, I wanted to point out how depression can be a good teacher, as all suffering can be. I certainly don’t wish it on anybody, but it sure does make you more sympathetic to the human condition when you come out of it…
I really enjoyed your article. I have a son who is 18 today and reading that article really spoke to me. He is struggling with anxiety and depression. Today, eighteen years ago they gave me a beautiful baby boy, and now my heart breaks because he is in such a sad place. We are working with a counselor and I take comfort in that. You don’t want your kids to be without struggles, but to be truly sad at that age makes me ache for him. I can’t fix it. I need to be more patient and wait, as you said, in joyful hope…
Oh Simcha, knowing that I am not alone in what I experienced is such a comfort. Thank you for sharing and thank you to all who are sharing your own experiences. They enrich us all.
Name, I will be praying for you!!
Jesus told me to “wait” too! Just the one word “wait”. It is a very long story but in the end it let me right into the arms of our Holy Mother Church in 2007 shortly after becoming a grandma for the first time. I still struggle but I know that help is waiting for me if I only ask.
Thank you for being vulnerable. You have no idea how much I needed to read this blog post today. I’ve been struggling with living in my very own dark hole. Glass covered dome is very accurate. The only thing that is keeping me here is my faith and my kids. So, thank you. This has given me hope.
Thank you for sharing this, Simcha. I can relate so much to what you and a lot of the commentators on this post have to say. I’ve struggled with an eating disorder and depression for almost five years. And there is no end in sight. Nearly everyday I wish that it would all end; that I had never been born. But blindly and stupidly I continue you on. It frustrates me that I have this problem since I have a very nice life and many talents and gifts. I just can’t use them and I don’t know if I ever will be able to do anything more than just existing. I’ve tried over 8 prescription anti-depressants, natural methods, and countless psychiatrists, doctors, and counselors, but nothing seems to help. I wish more people would write about Catholicism and depression and how to get out of this dark whole. I guess some good has come from it, though. I understand and empathize with others a lot more now.
God bless.
Thank you for sharing this. “If you have ever lived inside a black hole, if you have moved about the world enclosed in a dome of sound proof glass, with no voices but your own voice, which you hate above all other sounds in the world; if you have felt so bad for so long that you don’t even want life to get better, you just want it to be over—then you will understand that it was very, very good to hear this voice.”
Amen.
Thank you for sharing, Simcha! I love the real life illustration of the verse where the Lord says, “My thoughts are not your thoughts and my ways are not your ways.” I love that your submitting (if apathetically or begrudgingly) to go to the healing mass was the start of some big changes. God’s awesome and, I agree, funny!
Awesome.
Isaiah 40:31 has been a source of consolation and instructed my heart.
Thank you for spreading that courage around.
What a beautiful story. I too struggled with anxiety and depression…it’s like you live in your own personal wasteland. But God…(oh how I love that biblical phrase:+) never gave up on me. After medications ended up making things 10x worse I found the answer: Christ. A full on, no holds bar relationship with Him. I used a Christ-centered counselor and began attacking all the lies the enemy had placed in me since Day 1. I began living by God’s truth not my truth. His Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Knowledge etc. guide me in managing my thoughts and emotions. And His presence is with me always. He is my reality, my God, my King, my Savior, my family and home. Hope lives. I’m glad we both found that reality. May our brothers and sisters in Christ do the same:+)
Thanks for writing this, Simcha. It was beautiful, touching, honest and inspirational.
Audrey,
Go to Simcha’s blog, maybe she can connect us. I don’t want to post my email here. I suffered from a terrible, life-threatening eating disorder for years, and now I am totally free. Totally. Please have hope. My heart is pleading with you…I know what you are going through.
That gave me shivers. I’m with you, Hope lives. I will always choose hope and thank God for the grace that keeps it shining.
Thank you for sharing. I was lying in bed 3 nights ago so overcome with anxiety and all I could do was pray over and over again this prayer from the mass: “Protect us from all anxiety - as we wait in joyful hope.” What a prayer of peace!!! ....as we wait in joyful hope…as we wait in joyful hope…ringing in my mind in a way that gave me peace - ringing in my mind in way that I had never wondered about before and I was filled with awe and peace and joy and light!!! We are not fulfilled here and now - but that longing is somehow what God intended. To fill us up but always leaving us longing for more….FOR HIM!!!! Again, thank you for this.
Yes, today would be a good day.
Self edit: *whole* should be *hole*. Whoops!
Simcha- tears are streaming down my face right now. I just spent the last hour speaking with a friend who is severely depressed. It is very hard to be her friend through all of this-to watch her in so much pain. She has no faith life at all which makes it that much harder. Depression is so misunderstood and such a mystery. Most of these experiences are locked up and hidden away so that when you are dealing with them, you wonder if they are real. Thank you for sharing- you don’t know how much it helped to hear this today. No idea.
Wow. Powerful story. Thank you so much for sharing!
Thank you so much for this! With prayer,
Thank you for sharing this Simcha! I had tears streaming down my face when I read it this morning, so I had to wait until now to comment. It is so hard to share such personal stories, especially in such a public forum with complete strangers. You have a strength that I admire. God is working through you, that is for sure. Thank you so much, again, you have no idea how it helps to read this.
What courage to write this! Thank you and may God bless you.
I have recently discovered that there is a surprising amount of power in forcing myself to an outward fervor of praising God -a fervor that doesn’t come spontaneously - tacky though that may seem.
Just beautiful! I remember, in college, driving along the road and wanting to run the car into a tree, head on. I would cling to the wheel and beg God to help me not to hurt myself. AS a mother now, I watch for the signs that this terrible depression could strike any of my kids! God is gret and God is good, but there is a place where the darkness makes you feel that God doesn’t care.
P.S. I have totally had that healing service experience, with the little push, hahaha!
You have described the Voice very well. The Voice in your head speaking actual words…not simply a thought flitting through… and not originating from you. It was so startling. I had the “Damascus experience” while driving and the Voice even told me that later as the experience faded I would try to rationalize it away! The tone of the Voice was slightly exasperated…“NOW do you believe???”. He changed everything in an instant.
I’ve had similar experiences many many times in my life. And, btw, it always makes me smile that Jesus has such a gentle sense of humor!
Thank you for your own story. It is beautiful. What I struggled with was I can see now was not as hard as yours, as a fallen-away Catholic Christian. Yep Catholicus lapsus, that was me wrestling with The Holy Spirit still protecting me. I dont remember coming to a decision,I was sitting in a chair alone late at night and the voice was warm and amused, a voice I certainly didn’t know and the decision had been made somehow,the voice was beautiful, neither male nor female, and said, “It’s OK,you can rest now. Go get some sleep.” The humor in it was affectionate. I will never forget it. I thank God for the privilege.
Thank you so much for your sharing! I, too, have struggled with depression resulting from long-term childhood sexual abuse. God led me to a Christian psychiatrist, a very spiritual man, an instrument of God in my healing. God has used my pain to make me more compassionate of others who are in pain and I am now able to minister to them by God’s grace. I can identify with their pain and suffering because I have been there. I know that it is by the grace of God that I am not filled with anger and bitterness, as are so many who have had my experiences. God has led me to forgive my abusers and to pray for God to have mercy on them and forgive them. Thank you for having the courage to share your experience of suffering with all of us! We needed to hear it! May God bless you!
Don’t go—-those were great words! It’s been dark here, too; but I could almost hear a Voice repeating those same words. Many thanks for a glimmer of light.
Simcha,
Thank you so much for writing this. I dealt with depression at the end of college, and talking to a Christian counselor, taking antidepressants, and spending time in adoration helped heal me. One particularly rough day, when I was praying before the Eucharist, I read the story of Lazarus in Jn. 11, and I understood for the first time that Jesus entered into my pain with me. I felt like all of my plans and desires had died, but God told me that He was raising me to new life. It wasn’t what I had envisioned for myself, but it has turned out to be so much better.
I seriously think you just answered a question that has been plaguing me for almost 20 years.
Waiting, too, here.
Very beautiful, Simcha. Thank you and God bless you for sharing it.
I feel compelled to write a line of appreciation of the clarity of your explanation, Simcha. I am a priest working in the West of Ireland. I have had to work a great deal with depression over the years. I have used that same expression to many people: hang on in there.Wait. The Lord is around the corner.But he comes very softly. He does not make any noise. If you keep on looking at him, at Jesus, in his life, instead of looking at yourself, you will feel his helping hand on your forehead. This system has worked for many people, men and women. They reach under the depression into the reality of Jesus himself,and that is so interesting and real that they manage to sidestep their black holes,and little by little come to a clearer view of God. Then depression does not matter. It becomes like peering at the sun over the top of the wall.
Thank you Simcha for writing about this, although it was very hard for me to read. I wish my dad had gotten a chance to hear that voice. He never did. As far as I know, he never did.
It makes it had to pray when doing so reminds you of so much.
I do still occassionally have to fight with bouts of depression. But I have my husband now who can regularly “snap” me back out of it. I always bring it to God but sometimes it just seems like He isn’t going to help. But your article more reminds me of when I was 11 with a suicide note under my pillow. My circumstances being awful and I thought this was the only way to help the people around me. (Their life would just be so much better if I didn’t exist. And maybe the people who were hurting me would realize how much their actions hurt others.) But that night, I saw an angel, my angel, and he told me that God did still love me and that things would get better. He added that it would be a while but things would get better. 11 years later I found a church in which i felt like people cared about me and I met my bestest friend (my husband) and life meant something. 11 years! I had forgotten that I had been waiting but during adoration one night He reminded me that He had kept His promise! God is Good!!!
Oh, Simcha, thank you for writing this. Your descriptive words were like a ray of light extended into my darkness. As a Catholic with a deep faith in God, it is frightfully difficult to reconcile that faith with this terrible, isolating depression. In my case, the resultant guilt seems to thicken the dome of soundproof glass and intensify the sound of my own voice accusing me of being such a bad Catholic and such a disappointment to God, hearing the sinful thought that just maybe, just this once, God might have made a mistake by creating me. Such blasphemy, I know. God forgive me. He doesn’t make mistakes. So I will read, and reread, and read again your post, praying to receive the healing and peace you did and praying for the patience to wait for it.
@Simcha: Of everything I’ve ever read that you have written, I am most grateful for this post that comes from your heart. Your personalization is very touching.
To all who suffer from depression:
I have had ADD all my life and struggled with horrendous depression for decades. Many times I have been brought to the very brink. During a particularly nasty bout, I found myself screaming out loud in my car and wailing to God to please just help me in HIS way. I told Him, that I was powerless, clueless and hopeless and that only He could help me. For about two weeks I begged my Guardian Angle to be close.
Then a Dr. gave me a Rx for (ironically) an anti-depressant. It had a huge negative effect on me and two days later I was on my way to end my life with profound sorrow, when I bumped into a friend. I explained that I didn’t want to but felt helpless to resist this urge. The friend got some back up and helped me through that one day. I stopped taking the medicine and awoke the next day feeling slightly better and horrified and terrified at what had almost happened.
My life was a disaster. I was doing evil things. I called a priest and told him I needed a confession - NOW. He saw me. I confessed years worth of sins.
My begging to God did not go unanswered. My prayers to my Guardian Angel did not go unanswered. But in the end it was that CONFESSION that set me on the right path, a LONG path, and this sacrament continues to help me.
Somewhere I read that Archbishop Fulton Sheen said of the examination of conscience, “...by curing us of self-deception, it cures us of depression. Depression comes not from having faults, but from refusing to face them. What else is self-pity but a total unconcern with the interests of others?” There is MUCH wisdom in that quote. This way of thinking can eliminate a huge portion of depression. On the other hand, we all know that sometimes depression also does require medication and other forms of help. Getting BOTH spiritual and medical help is always a good idea.
If you are suffering from depression and reading this… Know that, right now, I am praying for you and will say special prayers again for you this evening with a Rosary dedicated to you. I hope this helps someone a little bit. God bless you!
Going to a healing mass is what brought me full force back in the Catholic Church. I heard about it from a person I attended a holistic store’s meditation group. My father was recovery froma dislocated hip and told my mother, let’s go for him in his place.
The priest that conducted the mass was awesome and loved his homily. There was great modernized acoustic songs sang at the mass. I felt like “the glass” you talked about was starting to crack and a great feeling of being reborn started to come over me—I found a church and a priest I could relate to. Many things in my life became so clear.
I kept going back monthly to the healing masses and after a few months, I introduced myself to the priest and set-up spritual counsleing with him to discuss the Church vs. and the garbage the media reported about it.
This was 3 years ago. I am now a certified mass lecteror and have developed the best relationship I’ve ever had with God and my life seems so fulfilled. I also have befriended another priest that is makes himself availalbe to me by phone or before of after mass when I need for spiritual guidance.
I went to that healing mass in place of my father, but I was the one that came out healed in spirit!
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