Cox News Service
WEST PALM BEACH, Fla. -- Talking about God seems to make a lot of
people uncomfortable. Mention God and a mental illness in the same
sentence, and you might as well consider the conversation over.
It seems weird that a country founded by a bunch of folks who
wanted religious freedom should wince when God is mentioned. But we
do. So public discussions about treatments for mental illness
rarely mention God, faith, spirituality or religion.
This, too, seems weird because many people who recover from a
mental illness, or any illness, develop a profound belief or
disbelief in a higher power.
For me, it was belief. Still, I don't discuss the part of my
recovery and treatment for depression and bipolar with most people.
I am afraid they will roll their eyes or twiddle their index finger
beside their head.
I will blather on about the changes I have made in my diet,
exercise and sleep regimens - even the dosage of my medications and
side effects. I will tell you how wonderful I feel now, how I had
no idea that a life could be a smooth pond rather than rolling
breakers. But I won't mention God unless I know it is safe.
I want to change this. I will start now.
I was not a big God person before I got sick. Yes, I was raised
a Catholic and occasionally went to Mass, but I did not consider
God a buddy. Sure, I said my share of foxhole prayers and got down
on my knees every day. But it was a punch-the-time-clock kind of
relationship. Just wanted to make sure God knew that I knew he was
on the job.
I read the Bible, as a historical document. I dabbled in the
Bhagavad Gita and found great inspiration in the teachings of the
Buddha. I even tried to get through the Koran (but no one told me
you have to read it from back to front.)
Then I did a swan dive into a black hole. The paradox of pain -
emotional or physical - is that it opens your mind. Your pride and
prejudices melt away. You become willing to try anything to feel
better. I came to believe that I - alone - was powerless over my
depression.
I needed medications from a doctor, friends to watch over me and
faith that I would get better. I needed to accept that there is a
power greater than myself and that I needed him/her/it. Thus began
my relationship with my higher power, whom I call God.
This relationship is as important to my mental health as my
medications and my family and friends. I know I risk getting sick
again if I stop taking my medications, seeing my friends or praying
and listening to God.
Meds, family, friends and God - not necessarily in that order.
Christine Stapleton writes for The Palm Beach Post. E-mail:
cstapleton AT pbpost.com.