Since my last blog, “The Art of Honesty”, I’ve gotten incredible feedback from friends, family, and even strangers that encouraged me beyond measure. I appreciate each and every person who reached out, which was my intended goal; to have others see that it’s OK to speak up about their struggles in order to feel less alone.

On September 9th, Jarrid Wilson, an associate pastor at Harvest Christian Fellowship Church in Riverside, California, tragically took his own life. He was very open to the church about his struggle with depression and suicidal thoughts, and he was a mental health advocate. This news shook me to my core. I respect Jarrid for being transparent with his struggles, and I believe that he set an example in The Church for being so open that should be followed more often. It breaks my heart that he allowed those thoughts to take over for a moment, but I fully believe that He is in the arms of Jesus, where he has longed to be. I’ve been wanting to write an updated blog for a little bit now, and after hearing about his death, I felt that today was the right time.

Depression is sneaky. It is not something that has a particular face, demeanor, speech, or any look to it. A lot of people hide their struggles with mental health, and I heard this quote recently that I believe is important for all to understand: “Talking about suicide does NOT increase risk of committing suicide.” As Christians, I believe that it literally allows the light of Jesus to shine on the enemy, tearing his power out of reach. God did not promise us an easy life once we gave ourselves to Him through salvation, but He promises that The Holy Spirit will fill within us as our helper, our comforter, and our very best friend. Along with that, depression is still something I deal with daily, and The Holy Spirit is continuing to guide me toward the resources that I need. I recently thought it was alright to go a month without taking my medication, (I tried to say, “Hey, I don’t need these”), until I hit a wall that I was not expecting. I am learning that it’s okay to have to rely on my medicine for now, but I am in full trust of having joy from The Lord again soon.

So with all of this being said, check on your friends, your family, and your pastors. You truly never know what anyone is going through and how far they are to stepping off the edge. Your words to them could be the turn-around they’ve been waiting for. I am still learning to be open to the people who care about me, and some of the thoughts I’ve struggled with haven’t gone away, but I am stepping into the space of being an advocate for mental health, just like Jarrid Wilson. RIP

This makes me really nervous;

The kind of nervous that makes you sweat and use the restroom over and over again. Because of this, it has taken me months to sit down and write this. I’ve been wanting to post something vulnerable and honest for awhile now, but my fear continued to hold me back: the fear of rejection, the fear of being treated differently for whatever reason, the fear of my loved ones worrying that they needed to walk on egg shells around me, etc. However, if I’ve learned anything over the last year or so, it’s that growth will not start until you are forced out of your comfort zone. I can’t be quiet and sit in my own thoughts anymore; I believe I’ve been called to share a part of my testimony to the world.

As some know, but not all, I started going to therapy off-and-on beginning my freshman year of high school and still do today as a sophomore in college. (Counseling is freaking awesome, and I personally believe everyone should go at some point in their life, especially college students). Mental health has been a struggle of mine for many years, and while I have been getting help, I have not been fully honest with my therapists, doctors, my family, and my friends who genuinely want to know how I am doing.

“How are you? No, really. How are you?”

I could be staring directly in the face of someone who I know and trust with all my heart, who I know love me deeply and nothing I say could negate that, but I could never tell them my honest state of mind. I commonly used the excuse of keeping quiet by saying, “I don’t want to be a Debby Downer right now”, but the more I allowed that thought to hold me back from being honest, the weight continued to get heavier and heavier. I got tired of feeling guilt from lying instead of being free from my vulnerability. (By the way, the people who really love you ALWAYS WILL. So tell them!)

Two years ago, I had a few moments occur that made me realize that I wasn’t OK. The first one was Christmas Eve of 2017. As my family and I were opening presents and joy was filling the room, I looked around in the midst of all the laughter and child-like wonder, and I thought to myself, “I’m sure they will be even happier when I’m not here.” The second moment I had was a few days later as I prayed to God and begged Him not to wake me up the next day. (Obviously, He did wake me up, therefore I know He has a purpose for my life), and the third occurrence was about 2 weeks after Christmas. I found myself researching: “Why am I a suicidal Christian?”, and at that moment, I completely shocked myself. I remember throwing my phone down and crying in my hands. What in the world am I doing? Why am I thinking this way? Is God mad at me? (By the way, the answer is “no” and will always be “no”) Will I remain in these thoughts forever? How can I be normal and feel normal again? Will my friends and family stop loving me?

“Well, why did you want to die? Something had to have happened, right?”

The thing is, nothing really happened, and that was one of the hardest things for me to grasp and understand. Although I did have experiences in my life that I believe triggered those thoughts, I completely moved on from those events. Therefore, a part of that constant weight was me wondering why I didn’t want to live if I wasn’t given a real reason; I just knew I didn’t want to anymore. I felt ridiculous telling anyone my honest, negative feelings on life if my (then) 18 years had been blessed and filled with love by the people around me. I also knew that God is completely good, that He loves me, and that He has a plan for my life, which is where a lot of the guilt came into play. I just felt completely useless and that everyone else would be better off without having me as what I thought I was: a burden.

2 years later, and (newly) being on medication and occasional counseling visits, my mind-set has finally started to change. The more open and honest I am, I no longer believe I am a burden; I know that the people in my life genuinely care about me and want me here in this world, and that this is only a temporary season of struggle and confusion. No longer am I thinking, “I hope I live a happy life”, I’m declaring that I WILL live a long, happy, and meaningful life. I will not let the enemy win. I am learning to trust and to be honest with my friends and family because I love them, and I know that they love me. I only have one explanation to this mind change: Jesus. As Easter approaches, I am reminded of His never-ending grace. He died so I can live, and He is coming back for you and for me. He is never as tired of me as I am of me. He loves me deeply. My prayer for my life is to love others like He loves.

God is the Great I Am. His promise reminds me that I WILL be happy. I WILL get a degree. I WILL be an awesome wife to my awesome husband one day. I WILL be the best mom I can be to my children. I Am going to live for a long time, and I WANT to live. I Am going to be OK. I Am going to enjoy life. I Am.