Struggling with Prolonged Mental Illness as a Conservative Christian
In the Mennonite, Conservative Christian, and Evangelical communities I called home, mental health issues were not taken seriously and tended to be attributed to spiritual deficiencies. While I now have a healthy, varied, and trauma-informed approach to my mental emotional care, I spent the first two decades of my life enduring intense suffering without understanding why.
In my earliest memories, I remember not
wanting to be alive. My mother tells me when I was very young I would talk
about how excited I was to die so I could go live with Jesus in heaven. Those
feelings became increasingly frequent and intense as I grew up, and the only
context I had to understand them was through Biblical teachings and the
Christian worldview.
From a young age, Christianity taught me I
didn’t belong here on earth. In the beginning, Adam and Eve were banished from
the Garden of Eden, the original home of man, to live a life of pain and
struggle for their sins. As a result, Heaven was the reward for enduring this
mortal life, dutifully following God, and proclaiming his Gospel to the world.
By this logic, it made sense to me that my life felt so horrible I fantasized
about dying. I assumed other Christians were better at accessing “God’s
Everlasting Love” and the “Peace of the Holy Spirit” due to their superior faith,
generosity, or spiritual status. I just needed to work harder on being a
Christian.
My elementary school years were highly
focused on excelling in my religious studies and activities. I memorized long
passages of scripture, attended Bible studies and Christian kids groups, cross
referenced my children’s Bible stories with the actual scripture to ensure
clearer understanding, and proselytized to the few non-Christian children at
school. I would pray constantly throughout the day, worried that any unconfessed
sin or lapse in piety could set me back or even invalidate my claim of being
Christian.
As I continued to age, my symptoms grew
worse and I could tell that my strategy wasn’t working. Why, I wondered, did I
experience such intense internal pain when Christianity preaches freedom from
this kind of suffering? What was different about me that kept me from accessing
the peace promised through a relationship with Jesus Christ? Deeper study and
insight from Christian elders led me to believe I was still the problem. I
wasn’t listening to God’s signals. Clearly, He was trying to tell me something,
but either I hadn’t figured out what it was or I was blatantly ignoring it.
Prayer and continued faith seemed to be the solution.
I begged God to show me the path to relief.
In the dark of night, I would scream and cry out to Him. I wrote Him letters, pages
of prayer pleading for guidance. The only answers I received were to be more
Godly, try harder. For a time, I
attempted to remove secular and ungodly influences from my life. I shunned
secular music, dressed more modestly, and refrained from even the mildest
swearing. Despite growing up in a conservative family, attending a
Christian high school, and having no secular friends by this point, I
experienced significant pushback to these efforts. My family wanted me to
follow their rules, but they were uncomfortable and inconvenienced when I set
further rules for myself. And my peers wanted me to have fun, explore new things with
them, even secular things, but I couldn’t risk my spiritual security.
By the time I was ready to graduate from
high school, I believed God had allowed Satan to torture me as He did with Job
in the Bible. My reasoning for this included having so many Christians around
me, some of whom cared very little for the Christian practices I carefully attended
to, unaffected by these kinds of demons. Job was constantly judged by his
peers, accused of committing some sin to bring on his suffering. I felt this
was reflective of the church’s response to my pain. I would ask God, Why would
you allow me to experience so much pain for so long? The story of Job, and also
of Ruth, gave me some kind of explanation; to prove my faith in God in hopes of
being rewarded in this life or the next. How I longed for the reward of heaven;
I had given up on this life before I realized I was alive.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the way out
of my suffering through the Christian ideology, and it continued to grow more
intense and take over my life. Neither did leaving Christianity relieve my
suffering. However, the path I’ve walked since has led me to relief. Learning
about the human physiology, understanding the impacts of stress on the mind, body,
and spirit, and re-embracing spirituality as an integral part of my life have
been key components in my experiencing less internal turmoil.
I later learned that there most certainly are
other Christians living with the same agony I lived through. One of the ways I
learned this was by paging through a Christian book on my parents' bookshelf. The author of the book posits that Christians experiencing the kind
of mental emotional pain I endured should accept it as their lot in life,
continue to trust God, and maintain hope for relief, even if only through the
eventuality of death. By the time I read this advice, I had dutifully practiced it many years of my life and found the suggestion to be shocking in its lack of
insight or depth.
Upon further investigation, I also discovered Christians who allow themselves a concept of mental emotional wellbeing separate from
spiritual responsibilities. They might seek secular mental healthcare, find a
Christian mental health professional, or ask for support through their existing
church community. I have been deeply encouraged by witnessing the embrace of
mental health wellbeing practices both in the secular and religious worlds. These
are concepts that were entirely unknown to me until adulthood and could have
offered a lot of support during my childhood development.
Based on my experiences both in and out of
the church, my opinion is Christian beliefs are fully compatible with mental
emotional healthcare concepts. Although God loves and takes care of us, He
needs us to do most of the leg work. God doesn’t cook our food, wash our
dishes, or pay our rent. Neither can we expect God to do the tangible work of
caring for our mental emotional wellbeing. Making the effort to learn how we
can help ourselves feel better and improve our relationships is part of showing
God we appreciate the gift of life He has given us. And when we suffer
less, we are more able to focus on acting with intention and in alignment with
the values we believe in.
If you are a Christian struggling with unexplainable emotional suffering, there are resources available to support you and provide hope for the future. You are not required to swallow your pain or dismiss your suffering to appease God or prove your faith.
Links to local resources
are below. You are also welcome to reach out through the contact form if you would like to request assistance assessing some options.
Shared Health: Mental Health Resources in Manitoba
Professional Association of Christian Counsellors and Psychotherapists (Canada)
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