I didn’t even know my joy was trapped. Because I kept trying to muster it up, and just thought I needed to in order to match the picture of what I thought things were supposed to look like. This was my firstborn…a delightful, blue-eyed boy with the softest skin and sweetest baby smell. (How I wish I could have bottled that up.)
He was perfect.
And especially after a scare in that pregnancy of a massive in-utero brain cyst; that it had diminished and disappeared and that he was born perfectly healthy and strong… we knew he was a miracle.
I wanted to rejoice but joy was trapped.
So instead I cried. A lot. And hid in the dark. And bristled when he wanted to feed again. Because mastitis. Over and over mastitis and the horrendous sickness that accompanies it.
I gave it a name
There. I named it. I could see this physical ailment, and get help for it. I could wrap my mind around a physical issue, and I felt no shame for it – I simply asked for help. And gave up breastfeeding. And it healed.
But what I didn’t know was that there was another unseen “ailment” trying to devour me. It prowled around in my mind under the surface where joy was trapped. It made me think things that weren’t true. Lying words made small things seem enormous and impossible. It chastised me for being a horrible mother who failed at breastfeeding, And it made me rage in anger when my little boy wouldn’t nap and sometimes even made me wish our whole lives would just go away.
Who could I tell that my joy was trapped?
I felt such shame. And who could I tell about it? I was brand new to the whole “I’ve given my life to Jesus” thing, and was already thrust into public ministry. I was responsible to care for other people growing in their faith while I was so very brand new to mine. People were always looking to me to be the example or to have the answer, and I kept pretending to have it. And from somewhere came the whispered lie that my faith just wasn’t strong enough. If I was a good enough Christian, I wouldn’t think and feel such unspeakable things.
So I never told anyone about it.
I never told anyone my joy was trapped
I never asked for help — who would I ask, really? If anyone knew that my body had given birth only to become pregnant with a deep darkness of anger and sadness and doubt, I would be rejected. And I couldn’t handle rejection at this point. So I hid and pretended all was well. And I tried to take rigid control of every area of my life so I wouldn’t have to feel so turbulent. I worked harder, and entertained more. I lost all the baby weight and then some. And I planned out the course of our family growth.
Then the birth of that second, delightful little blue-eyed boy just fueled the fire of depression and the lie that I needed to hide it. Because I was a Christian and I was a leader. It didn’t make sense that I was so very sad when all aspects of my life were really pretty great. I had a loving husband, two beautiful little boys, people to lead in ministry, and all kinds of possibility on the horizon. It didn’t make sense, but it was still there.
And somewhere along the way I heard about sin-sickness. And I started to think that my current reality of tormented thoughts and lava-rage under the surface was punishment for all the sins of my past. Somehow the whispered lying voice in my head convinced me that I brought this on myself. I figured I was experiencing repercussions that I deserved. So I better just try to be a better Christian in order to undo it.
Yes, sin has repercussions…sometimes longterm ones. But I had found victory over those past sins in Jesus; I was forgiven and set free. And I was set free for freedom, not to continually live in the slavery of punishment.
This was not that.
It really wasn’t my fault
It really would be more of a book than a blog post for me to describe the longtime battle with my thoughts and emotions. And the turmoil of guilt that I felt for so long about them. In my case, it wasn’t that no one offered to help. I didn’t even reach out for it.
I didn’t know that I was battling a mental health issue. Somehow I just thought it was my lot in life. Somehow I didn’t know that postpartum depression was an actual thing I could get help for, and that my strength would be best displayed in my reaching out for help. But I didn’t let anyone know the ferociousness of my internal struggle. Why did I feel so afraid to let anyone in?
I thought it was un-Christian to struggle with depression. And that it made me weak. I thought it disqualified me from the things I felt called to.
- It’s not
- It didn’t
- It doesn’t
In my situation, my whacked out hormones caused the turmoil in my mind and emotions. It wasn’t actually my fault. Whether a mental health issue is caused by hormonal imbalance, trauma, genetics, or another unknown reason, it is never your fault. And to my Christian friends: it doesn’t mean your faith in Jesus isn’t real.
But, hear me: There is a very real battle for your soul. And the enemy will grab hold of your mental health struggle to pull you toward death. You. Must. Fight. with an army of people on your side.
It is not only mental or emotional. It is not only spiritual. It is all.
I wish I had reached out back then. I wish I had sought help. Thankfully, I am here today on the other side of that monster only by the grace of God. And in reality, I only started to be able to walk out of it when I became more transparent about the struggle. When I stopped hiding it and brought it into the light, I started to be able to overcome it.
Opening up when joy is trapped
Opening up about mental health and fighting to pursue wellness may include:
- Therapy and counseling
- Medications
- Clean living and natural wellness
- Fitness and diet changes
- Hospitalization
- Regular life-coaching and accountability
- Letting people into your pain
- Prayer support and discipleship
And I’m pretty sure it will always include vulnerability and intentionality. It is a very real monster that needs to be lured out of the cave into the battle arena and fought. Mental health is an issue that we must not leave in the dark. It is not something that cheapens our faith, even though it wants to threaten to overshadow it. When our joy is trapped, we will have to purposely let it loose.
Joy let loose
I had a conversation with a sweet friend yesterday who celebrated with me that we have a God who brings life through us even while He brings life to us. Indeed, He called me to let JOY loose in people while I was decidedly joy-less. He doesn’t leave us to wrestle alone, and He doesn’t give up on His purposes for us.
But God does call us to be an active participant in our restoration.
And, by His grace alone, our lives can become an honest reflection of what rescue and redemption really look like in this real and broken world.
Ask for help
Friend, if you are struggling to see the value in your life, you are not alone. If you wrestle moment-by-moment with crushing thoughts, there are people who can help you. If your emotions are out of control, you have advocates who can come alongside and point you in the right direction.
Your life has purpose and meaning. Please reach out and let someone know that you are struggling.
And if you experienced a time when your joy was trapped, but now you have let it loose, we’d love to read your victory story in the comments. It helps us all to know there is something worth fighting for.
Elizabeth Joy
