Let’s Talk About Mental Health

The antidote to mental illness is NOT prayer. Religion is NOT a substitute for treatment.

For seven years, I struggled with anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and panic attacks. I’m better now, but sometimes I still struggle.

In honor of May being Mental Health Awareness Month, I thought I’d share my story.

In 2012, I was diagnosed with moderate to severe depression and anxiety. I had struggled for months beforehand, not knowing what caused me to feel so awful all the time.

I had depressive episodes, anxiety, non-existent self-esteem, and a constant cloud of numbness hanging over my head. My grades slipped. I lost friends. I started hanging out in my room with the door closed, getting sucked in to Facebook. And while this wasn’t as bad as it could get, people noticed.

I’m normally an extremely outgoing, bubbly person, but at the time, I was the total opposite.

I visited a psychiatrist and a therapist. I was prescribed medication and weekly therapy sessions that I attended for nearly two years.

Things got worse before they got better.

I struggled with self harm. I had suicidal thoughts. I even planned how I would end my own life, twice.

When I started therapy, I was religious, but obviously I’m not anymore.

Reading bible verses helped me sometimes.

Sometimes they didn’t.

What helped me the most over the past seven years was taking medication, going to therapy, practicing what I learned, and learning various coping techniques.

I’ve noticed some Christians talk about mental illness like it isn’t real, saying “Jesus is the only thing that can cure your depression.” And while it’s fine to use religion as a coping technique, it’s important to remember that mental illness is a complicated thing. What works for one person may not work for another.

It has been proven that therapy and medication WORK. That’s why it is so highly recommended.

Don’t get me wrong. While I think religion made things worse for me (“you’ll go to hell if you kill yourself,” “just pray and things will get better”), it can definitely act as a positive coping technique for others.

I see no issue in using religion to help you cope if it makes you feel better.

But Jesus is not a replacement for treatment. If you are struggling, GO GET HELP.

If you or someone you know is struggling with mental illness or suicidal thoughts, here are some resources:

You are loved. You are needed. You are not alone.

Reach out. Ask for help. You’ll be glad you did.

Give Yourself Some Credit

As finals week and graduations approach, I’ve been preparing myself for the onslaught of Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter posts thanking God for every achievement.

“I made an A! God is so good.” “I wouldn’t have made these grades without God.” “I’m graduating, have a job offer, and made the best grades, all thanks to God.”

While these kinds of posts seem harmless at first glance, they can also be an unhealthy way of thinking.

Gratitude is important. Humility is fantastic.

But God didn’t take your finals. God didn’t stay up all hours of the night, studying for your tests. God didn’t turn in your homework. God didn’t apply to those jobs, build up your portfolio, or kill that interview.

YOU DID.

Give yourself some credit!

You may not want to seem like you’re bragging, and I get that.

But if you’ve accomplished something big, you deserve to feel proud of yourself. You deserve to feel good about all the hard work you put in. You deserve the credit.

You’re allowed to be religious. You are allowed to be thankful that you had religion as a stress relief (or however you use it). You are allowed to post things that credit your god for anything you do.

But remember…

You still did those things, and you should be proud of everything you accomplished.

We Need to be Civil

Recently, I was watching a YouTube live stream where I heard someone say something along the lines of, “Don’t talk to me if you’re just going to present some idiotic bullshit.” While I understand what this person meant, it hurt the live stream’s viewership. This comment got me thinking…as atheists, we need to be more civil.

If we start out by shutting people down and excluding those we disagree with, we are cutting ourselves off from learning.

In psychology, there is a concept known as the “echochamber effect.” When we surround ourselves with only the things we agree with and refuse to listen to opposing viewpoints, we become close-minded, which is often the very opposite of what many atheists want to see from others.

There is a lot of hostility from both sides of the god debate. People telling other people they deserve eternal torture for not thinking exactly like they do. People calling other people names and refusing to listen to the other side because of how they were raised. And while the religious side has a lot of hostility to own up to (killing people who don’t believe, etc), many atheists are guilty of dividing us further.

There are always going to be extremists, and we should do our part in standing up for what is right.

But that does not mean that it is okay to treat moderately religious people the same way we would treat those extremists.

My family is religious. My best friend plays in a worship band on campus. My sister works as a worship leader at her church. I’m lucky that my family and friends (mostly) accept me for who I am, but there are times when we don’t agree on things.

When I talk to theists, I imagine how I would go about the conversation if I were talking to someone in my family or my best friend, and that usually helps me to say things in a kind way.

Religion has hurt a lot of people in a variety of different ways; however, if we are going to get anywhere with theists, we need to stop shutting them down too quickly.

Meaningful, civil conversation is something I really enjoy when conversing with anyone.

If theists are going to be rude to us in everyday conversations, so be it, but as people who already have a bad rap, it makes us look worse when we are rude in return.

Too many people see atheists as close-minded, rude, or argumentative, but I know that perception is off. We should be doing all we can to change the public perception of us.

Let’s be known for the open-mindedness, civilized, rational people that we are.

Let’s change the world.

I’m an Atheist, and That’s Okay.

I grew up in a progressive Christian household. We believed in evolution. We accepted and supported the LGBT+ community. We had women pastors. To us, Christianity was all about loving and supporting everyone. My family mostly avoided the topic of religion altogether, except for praying at dinner time and going to church.

Growing up, how “Christian” I was wasn’t a topic of importance in our house; however, I went through many phases of being extremely religious and not-so-religious, honestly depending on who and what I surrounded myself with.

I was first turned off by religion when I was 12. I was attending a Baptist day camp during the summer before I entered middle school. The kids in my class were between the ages of 10 and 13. I liked all of the new friends I was making, but I didn’t like how harsh everyone’s views – especially those of the teacher – were. We were told practically every day that if we did not do certain things or think certain ways, we would go to Hell.

I remember talking to my parents about this and thinking, “How do they know that’s where we will end up? Isn’t that God’s job to decide?”

Whenever I questioned anything, such as the six-day creation story, I was usually met with answers like, “you can ask God when you get to Heaven.”

Ultimately, I am glad that my parents didn’t use apologetics on me, but the answers they gave never really satisfied my thirst for answers.

In high school, I found a Christian blog that I began following religiously (pun intended). The blog was run by a former model-turned Christian, whose mission was to inspire girls to live in God’s image. I liked the body positivity and sense of community the website offered, so I ignored the posts about the things I disagreed with.

Reading that blog so often ended up with me indoctrinating myself further in to the religion. Dating or having atheist friends was wrong. Having friends of other religious faith was okay, but only if I’m sharing the gospel constantly. Sex was wrong. Dressing in certain clothes was wrong. So many things were just WRONG. Looking back, it was shaping me to be someone I wasn’t.

When I got to college, I went to church every once in a while, but I was so busy with extracurricular activities and schoolwork that I didn’t have the time or gas money to travel thirty minutes both ways for church every week.

I started dating an atheist. I had dated non-religious people before, and it was never a major problem, because I usually felt (and still feel) that religion was something private. This person, however, introduced me to Neil DeGrasse Tyson’s version of “Cosmos,” and I was immediately hooked.

I had always had a fascination for space and the stars, but “Cosmos” stirred up religious doubts. One episode in particular was about the possibility of life on other planets outside of our solar system. I realized that if there were so many planets out there that are similar to earth, there’s a possibility that some of that life is intelligent. It is not likely that the possible intelligent life knows about the Christian religion, namely Jesus. Therefore, with the possibility of life beyond our own planet, Christianity, to me, didn’t work.

From there, I started questioning things. Is there something out there? Is there a god? Is another religion correct?

If there is a god, I knew I would find it. Unfortunately, I found more sources refuting and debunking the evidence that theists gave than anything else. After months and months of questioning and researching, I realized that I had become an atheist.

And that’s okay.

Along the way, there were a lot of struggles and questions that I had. There were a lot of fears that I had to get over…but that’s a whole other post. I’ll get to that soon.

I’m glad I became an atheist, though.

If you’re questioning your faith, know this: it’s okay not to know all the answers.

It’s okay to have doubts.

It’s okay to question what you were taught.

Life is more interesting that way.