Depression Doesn't Wear a Seatbelt

Content warning: Images & description of a car accident

In the summer of 1998, I was involved in a car accident while heading to work. I was driving my little burgundy Plymouth Horizon, which did not stand a chance against the Goliath RAM truck that pulled out in front of me. In the blink of an eye, my 110 lbs. body slammed against the steering wheel and dashboard. My head hit the windshield in front of me. I remember small glimpses of people driving by and gawking at me as I sat sideways in my car, unable to stand. I was in and out of consciousness. I remember feeling an exhaustion wash over me that I had never felt before. I wanted to get up and look at my car and check on the other person, but I could not. My thoughts and movements were in slow motion at best. I never heard the ambulance arrive, but as the stretcher jolted when they lifted me into the back, my mind woke again. I could hear them talking about my failure to respond. Although I could hear them, I had no strength or ability to open my eyes or even attempt to mumble a few words. I then blacked out again. It was as though signals were firing, but everything inside me was short-circuited. I left the hospital the following day with a very large knot on my forehead, a severe concussion, bruised kneecaps, a few scrapes, and two beautiful raccoon eyes. The steering wheel of my car had left a very distinct black and blue ring on my chest and stomach. Everything hurt for weeks to come, but by the grace of God, I was okay.

                                                            I broke the windshield with my head.

When I think about depression, I always think about that day. I still remember how I felt after the traumatic collision. The lack of control when going in and out of consciousness and the extreme physical exhaustion to the point I lost normal functioning. My mind would not do what I needed it to do. I have a vague memory of a man squatting next to me while I sat in my car immediately after the accident. He asked me if I had a child with me. Apparently, my daughter’s car seat was empty on its side in the backseat. He repeatedly asked me, desperate for an answer. What would normally take me less than a second to respond to now took minutes. I was out of work for two weeks. In the first week, I was not allowed to be alone because of the concussion. There was no way I could care for my two-year-old daughter as I was confined to my parents' couch. Suddenly, everything became more difficult. Simple things, such as holding my child, were painful and tiring. Getting off the couch was a nightmare. However, they took care of us both. They brought me food and helped me use the bathroom. They constantly checked on me. Although I wanted to return home and work again, my body could no longer handle normal life.

   Four weeks after the accident

The body stores trauma. It has its own memory, separate from the brain. Together, both memories store all the data needed to help us maneuver and make choices to avoid that trauma from ever happening again. For example, if I thought a car was about to pull out in front of me, with this newly stored information, my entire body would tense up and react quickly because it had been there before. My foot would hit the brake in mere seconds, and my hand may reach to push on the horn. The mind triggers fear, while the body triggers muscles. All trauma is stored somewhere in the body. Therefore, the healing process is important. This is why God asks us to give Him our pain and trauma; He did not build our bodies to hold onto these negative events. Although I was thankful to be alive and have a place to go while I healed, the negative parts of this experience outweighed the gratitude because my body and mind instinctively held onto that traumatic memory to guard and protect me later.

Thanks to research, we have learned much more about depression in the last decade. Medication and counseling are both very good, but we are forgetting a very important aspect of the healing process: spirituality. We are not just a mind and body, but also a soul. In fact, I believe that many of the mental health struggles we face today are spiritual warfare. I meet with a Christian counselor to discuss both mental health tools and spiritual attacks against me. In the last two years, I have also met with a pastor regularly, and the combination of those two men, along with support from friends and family, is why I am still here today. When I was under severe attack, it did not matter what counseling tools I had in my drawer.

On the day of the car accident, I was exhausted, confused, unable to think for myself, and struggled with daily activities such as work. Prayer pushed back the evil presence and allowed me to think again. I was able to take a deep breath and rest for a moment. I could think and talk with Jesus more freely. I could open that binder of scriptures, encouraging words, and even the tools my counselor shared with me. Before starting prayer with this pastor, I was not surviving. Every day was my final day. Every day, it could have been. Eliminating and pushing back the demonic spirits that tortured me day and night left space for my mental health tools. This is why I try to share my experiences, because we need to move past phrases like “Just choose to be happy” or “Just think positively.” These are very helpful suggestions when a person is only a little down about life, not when they are in the deepest and most dangerous pit. Just like the day of my accident, I needed the ambulance, the doctors, and even my parents to see me through the healing process before I was strong enough to do it on my own again. There are people in the world sitting in “mental cars” on the side of the street, broken, bruised, and hurt. Life is exhausting, confusing, and lonely for them. They cannot just stand up and walk away from the wreckage feeling healthy and well. They need help and the right kind of help. It took the people around me to pray regularly and spend time with me before I could have the spiritual strength to do it on my own. There is a place in the darkness where fighting no longer exists. It seems no one wants to hear or believe that, but it is true.

When I was lost in the darkness of deep depression, and someone told me to “choose happiness”, it confirmed to me that I was a failure and a mess. I told myself I couldn’t do anything right, even getting out of this depressive state. I felt ashamed and was misunderstood. I was embarrassed sometimes, which led me to withdraw even more. However, encouragement can sometimes be misused unintentionally. Understanding how deep the depression is for your family member or friend is imperative for how you interact with them. If I could suggest a better option from “Just think positive”, but maybe invite that person to do something withyou that is fun. What will be relaxing and bring them joy personally? Bring the positivity to them, instead of asking them to find it on their own. Remember, they want to think positively; they just need a little help in getting there first. My best advice is to pray before saying anything. Ask Jesus what you should do and not do. It has the best answer for all situations. And of course, praying for that person does wonders. Keep in mind that you do not know their entire journey, so give them time and space to heal. I have been in the healing process for two years now, and I am so grateful for those who stood by my side and did not give up on me at any point. They gave me the grace I needed to properly heal, and I continue to do so even today.

Ephesians 6: 10-20