Published: September 30, 2025 at 02:48 AM
Tags: faith, depression, mental-health, christian-life, blog, struggles, psalms
Depression is a real struggle, and yes, I’ll say it plainly: depression is a bitch. Sorry for the moderate language, but honestly, it feels appropriate. It sneaks up on me, sometimes out of nowhere, sometimes triggered by something small, and sometimes by nothing I can even name. While I’ve never been formally diagnosed, I’ve lived with this on-again, off-again cycle long enough, done the research, and felt the weight of it enough to know what it is: depression.
The strange part is that simply knowing it’s depression doesn’t make it any easier to manage. Knowledge isn’t a cure. If it were, things would be much simpler. Sometimes the heaviness passes quickly, like a passing cloud, while other times it drags on for days. And, unfortunately, sometimes it lasts far longer than I would like to admit.
I don’t enjoy writing about this. It’s not a comfortable subject for me, because I know how easily people form judgments when they hear the word “depression.” Assumptions are made: about your faith, your strength, your stability, or your life choices. But if I’m going to be open on here, if I want to be honest about real life, I have to include the messy parts too. That means putting words to things I’d rather keep silent about.
This most recent bout came without warning. It started midday Sunday, and I felt it spill into the following days. The irony is that Sunday morning and afternoon had been genuinely good time with friends, fellowship with other Christians, laughing and spending time with some kids. By all accounts, it was a joyful, refreshing day. Which makes the sudden plunge all the more confusing and painful. How can I be smiling one moment, then sinking the next? That contrast is one of the cruelest parts of depression.
I’m not an expert, just someone who lives with this reality. Things do usually get better, but I know that’s not a guarantee for everyone. For me, eventually the fog lifts, and I can breathe a little easier again. But there’s no stopwatch, no predictable rhythm, no certainty.
And here’s another hard truth: being a Christian doesn’t make depression magically disappear. Faith isn’t a quick fix. Salvation doesn’t erase mental health struggles. But faith does give me something solid to hold on to when I feel like I’m slipping. It gives me the reminder that I am not alone in this fight, even when it feels that way. Maybe “tool” isn’t the best word, but it feels like an anchor, something to cling to when my own strength is fading.
When I reach the end of myself, I go to the words of Scripture. Psalms 143 has been a refuge for me, especially in times like this. David knew what it was to cry out from the pit, to feel the darkness pressing in. His prayer mirrors mine:
Psalms 143:7-12 (NET)
[7] Answer me quickly, Lord! My strength is fading. Do not reject me, or I will join those descending into the grave.
[8] May I hear about your loyal love in the morning, for I trust in you. Show me the way I should go, because I long for you.
[9] Rescue me from my enemies, O Lord! I run to you for protection.
[10] Teach me to do what pleases you, for you are my God. May your kind presence lead me into a level land.
[11] O Lord, for the sake of your reputation, revive me! Because of your justice, rescue me from trouble!
[12] As a demonstration of your loyal love, destroy my enemies! Annihilate all who threaten my life, for I am your servant.
These words resonate deeply. “My strength is fading”, I’ve felt that. “Show me the way I should go”, because often I don’t know the next step. “Revive me”, because sometimes all I can do is ask God to breathe life back into a weary soul.
Depression doesn’t get the final word. It may visit me, it may linger unwelcome, but it doesn’t define me.
A lantern in the dark — a reminder of light even in heavy times.