Jesus Christ

I have personally experienced a  lifelong struggle with depression, which came to a head during my training as a physician in a pediatric residency. Basically, I came to the point where my own strength absolutely wasn’t going to cut it anymore. I was dragged into the psychologist and officially diagnosed with Major Depression, though I now recognize I had weathered several major depressive episodes before.

I was referred to a Psychiatrist and started on anti-depressants. At that point in my life, I felt totally defeated.  I wanted to be mentally strong.  I didn’t want my secrets out.  I didn’t want the prejudice.  I felt this occurrence and diagnosis affirmed all the image problems I fought all my life. I felt like my medical career and dream was slipping away, now that the pretender was caught.

On medication, thoughts of ending my life returned, again rebutted by the quandary in which I would leave my wife and 2 kids, should I pursue such a wrong but seemingly convenient course. Panic attacks and disaster scenarios raced through my mind. While this kept me from giving in to suicidal thoughts, It sure didn’t help my guilt. My weakness was now throwing my family’s future into turmoil.

After several weeks of further confusion, I experienced something different. I actually  found enjoyment in my old hobbies, In music, in joking around, in my children. I suddenly felt alive again, even though I had no idea previously, how dead I felt and for how long I had felt numb. I was eased back into clinical duty, with a couple of rotations with very understanding and supportive attendings, and my abilities grew. My performance improved, markedly. The workload was less intense, but I was moving and thinking a thousand times better.

It was then that I began to see how counter-productive my fear of weakness had been. I felt like Moroni, a prophet in the Book of Mormon, whom God told “And because thou hast seen thy weakness thou shalt be made strong, even unto the sitting down in the place which I have prepared in the mansions of my Father.” (Ether 12:37)

This was so foreign to my previous mindset. I knew all about the wonders of God’s love, and what it meant to be born of God. I had witnessed the transformative power of the atonement. I had read the Book of Mormon, the story of Alma, many times. The power of that story was burnt into my soul. I loved it. I preached it for two years. It resonated with me. Yet, somehow, I didn’t really understand these doctrines. I wanted to be great on my own. I wanted to achieve on my own. I wanted to be admired, not pitied. I was proud, paradoxically in light of my poor self image. I wanted to face down my shortcomings.

I was ready now to begin the real work of healing through the atonement, and truly understood my reliance upon him for strength. I came to a point where I was ready to accept any and all help needed. Over time, I have learned to see myself the way the Savior does, full of worth and potential. I have realized mistakes can be overcome. I have drawn strength to endure when the world seems to be collapsing around me. I have learned I am never alone.

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