I recently read an article written by a person who is tired of people like me talking about recovery from psychiatric disorders. She wanted us to “stop talking about recovery and start using a more useful and less stigmatizing word: hope.” I am not sure what she wants us to have hope of. Stabilization? Maintenance? Better medication? Better therapy? My hope is that I can have a full and meaningful life despite the fact that I have bipolar disorder, mild PTSD, panic attacks and an eating disorder.
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Mary Alice Do
Often times, people are depressed after the holiday season for a variety of reasons, but the New Year brings with it new possibilities if we are open to them. Every moment we are alive is a new moment so every moment brings a new possibility even though we may not be aware of it. When we are depressed, it is hard to see possibilities. I know this is true because I have spent a lot of time depressed.
It is that time of year again when we are supposed to be joyful, surrounded by friends and family, and have a generous heart. Many of us though find this time of year to be depressing especially because we are supposed to be in the Holiday Spirit. We are keenly aware we cannot be with loved ones either because they may live far away, have died or no longer associate with us. We are also reminded that we are often limited in what we can give to others. For many of us, it is a depressing time.
According to a Baylor study, more people with a mental illness seek help from clergy than from mental health professionals. This concerns me for two reasons. First, clergy learn very little about mental illness when they go to seminary. Second, like the general public, churches don’t generally talk about mental illness and aren’t really supportive. Even in the church which I attend and am an elder, there is a great deal of silence and awkwardness even though it is a very caring
I have had episodes of depression throughout my life and once I was so happy after taking an antidepressant that I danced around my bedroom. I didn’t realize I had a mental illness until I was 45 years old, and I didn’t know I had bipolar disorder until I was 59. You would have thought that, at a younger age, I would have figured out it since twice I stopped short of completing suicide and I occasionally cut myself.
I’ve had episodes of depression throughout my life, but it was only seventeen years ago that I realized I had a mental illness. Up until that time, I blamed the episodes on circumstances of my life like being away from home my first time, escaping from Vietnam in ’75, my husband becoming seriously ill, him dying, my daughters going off to college, etc. Some of the episodes were so severe that I seriously considered suicide, but I still didn’t think I had a mental illness.
Those of us who have a mental illness are sometimes told and also think that our mental illness is our fault because we lack faith. This is not the case. Mental illness is a biological disorder and can affect anyone. Let me tell you a story found in the Bible.
Mary Alice Do, M.Div., is a retired ordained minister, mother and grandmother. She has bipolar disorder, has had recurring episodes of depression throughout her life and was hospitalized twice. She worked seven years in ministry, 13 years providing peer support and two years doing case management for people with a serious mental illness. For nine years, she made monthly presentations on promoting recovery to new employees at a mental health agency. She currently presents a workshops Becoming a Supportive Church, and she is a NAMI presenter of In Our Own Voice.