Denial Runs Deep

All in the Family;  Facing the Stigma

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 As I look back, I can hardly believe that we waited so long to seek help, but we had no idea what was going on.

Prior to this time, I had never for a moment entertained the possibility that I would have a form of mental illness. When I first began to exhibit symptoms of major depression ,at the age of twenty nine, I completely suppressed  any thoughts that that I might have mental illness in my family history. I could not tolerate the thought of actually having the disease.

I did remember hearing that my dad’s mother had been admitted to a local hospital with “schizoid tendencies.” From what I can piece together about her life, she may have had a form of bipolar disorder. 
                              



My father’s family has a history of bipolar and unipolar depression. My dad’s brother recalls that when he was a little boy, his mother would sometimes become angry and throw good plates down the basement steps. He would hand the plates to her, one by one, and watch as she smashed them.

Bipolar disorder also has been diagnosed in one of my aunts. Later her son that helped with the plates would become clinically depressed himself. In my opinion, he was under treated, and suffered horrendously throughout his life time.

Many times family members have similar responses to medication and successes with forms of medication, so ignoring my family’s history was not in my best interests. But I denied anything pertaining to mental illness in my life for as long as I could.

I was in denial.

Part of my denial was that, as a born-again believer and a trained theologian, I did not want to entrust myself to a “system,” where I would be vulnerable to mistreatment, or psychological brainwashing. A deeper reason was that I had been taught that depression was for wimps. Surely if Christians walked with God, they would not get depressed.It wasn’t that I hadn’t heard the other side of the issue. One of the professors during my pastoral internship was a psychiatrist who spoke to us about the chemical imbalance that causes depression. 

I’d listened to part of a radio program devoted to the story of a man who had depressive episodes. I heard only part of the program because, I was so afraid of identifying with the symptoms that I changed the station. God was working in subtle ways to prepare me, in spite of my denial.

Another reason for the denial was that I had a family I desperately wanted to care for my family.    As symptoms grew more acute, it increasingly was a burden on Robyn—in addition to her responsibilities with an infant and two other young children. I felt I was failing to live up to her expectations. She had worked hard and lived with insecurity long enough. But instead of stepping up to the plate, I was making her life miserable. My illness was a burden on everyone who cared for would like To buy this book: This blog for the most part was taken from the book which was co-authored by Robyn and Steve Bloem.



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