Nothing like re-entering the writing world talking about what seems to be a very taboo topic. Why am I writing about anxiety and depression, brain-based strongholds that aren’t usually favorable topics in most circles of conversation?

I know some people will think it’s for attention or maybe sympathy or pity. Maybe you’ll think that I just need to get a grip. Maybe you’ll label me crazy or weak or generally altogether not enough and too much, if you haven’t already. But here’s the deal: I don’t need you to understand, and I’m not really writing for you.

I’m writing for myself because this is how I process and part of how I’m becoming a healthier person who knows how to show up better for others. Of course, I could keep that writing to myself and save y’all the trouble from reading thoughts that probably sound irrational.

But I won’t be doing that because I believe that God is setting me free to help other people get free. (And by free, I don’t necessarily know if that will look like the wild chaos of my brain disappearing altogether or never having to experience anxiety and depression again. I’ve never actually believed before that that could be possible, so I’ll be honest, these are new waters I’m walking into.) But by free, I mean God is breaking chains off of me in the forms of shame, control, self-preservation, isolation, desperation, and victimhood. By free, I mean that God is opening pathways for me to learn to LIVE no matter what happens in my mind, and although that’s not the freedom I originally thought it would be, it is freedom nonetheless.

A few years ago, I picked up a book: This Beautiful Truth by Sarah Clarkson. I bought a copy because I enjoyed Sarah’s writing on Instagram and thought the subtitle sounded lovely. I didn’t expect the book to begin my journey of asking for more. In the book, Sarah bravely narrates her own struggles with mental illness – and I was stunned. First of all, had she been inside my mind? Because I’d never heard anyone articulate my lifelong experiences before. I truly thought I was crazy, and in reality, completely alone until I read this book.

Second, here was a girl, raised in a Christian home with loving parents who are pinnacles in Christian parenting and homeschooling. And say what you may about either of those, that’s not the point. The point is this: struggles of the mind are not just experienced by kids who have a poor upbringing or people who experience abuse. What seems most crushing, rather, is that a person like me, who in all respects had a lovely, safe childhood, should NOT struggle. I don’t have a valid reason for this and therefore my struggle is not valid.

Sarah’s honesty validated my experience, my frustration, my disappointment, my confusion, my pain. . . But more importantly pointed me to the hope of possibility, that there can be something more to me than this, that life is still worth living and living well. I know, of course, that Sarah Clarkson didn’t write that book for me; she has no idea who I am other than a huge fan of her work, and I know that her work has reached far more hearts than mine alone. But her words have shaped my path, and if she (and others) can rise above the stigma attached to this topic and explore bravely what it means to be a person of faith who wrestles with an exhausting, confusing tornado of a mind, then I believe I can to.

And so, I also write for the people I know who struggle, for those who have surprised me with their struggle, and for those who struggle in silence because it would be impossible to share that struggle with anyone. I write for my children and for yours, so that maybe one day, there will be resources that aren’t just bandaids. I write to create the content that I don’t see in this field, especially in Christian circles, so that more people can walk in freedom rather than allowing their minds to constantly be sabotaged in a way that leads to nothing more than mere survival.

Wouldn’t it be lovely if I could just be a cute mom who keeps a blog about the meals I cook or the crafts I do with my kids? Wouldn’t it be nice if I could keep a blog about the best books I am reading or our latest vacation. But I cannot. My words have always been an important way to explore, to grow, to choose life – words have been a lifeline in my darkest moments. But these words can’t just be for me; I throw them out as a lifeline for those who need to know or be reminded that hope is possible.

(So, if this conversation isn’t your cup of tea, I give you full permission to skip my work. I won’t be offended, I promise!)

Feature Photo by Sebastian Arie Voortman: https://www.pexels.com/photo/body-of-water-during-golden-hour-189349/