Not so much Defeated as Disarmed
by Jacob Harada
Not so much Defeated as Disarmed
Original Photo by ville palmu on Unsplash
I have come to believe that mental illness isn’t something you can “defeat”. I, at least, have never “defeated” my depression and anxiety. I’ve tried. I’ve been really militant, my younger self demanding more “faith” out of myself to vanquish the darkness. This included very aggressive scripture reading and memorization, lengthy devotional times, and sacrificial self-offering in service of others (which was really people-pleasing).
These aren’t bad things if they stem from a secure faith and self. For me, however, they represented in part my militancy against my depression and anxiety. That militancy didn’t work and divided me from my emotions. It made me actively resentful of huge swathes of myself.
What actually “works” or makes a difference, on the other hand, is grace-empowered self-compassion.
Redemptively, God gave me a safe place in which to conduct compassionate conversation with my mental illness. The safe space was “loved” as a status, as well as a real-world safe home and supportive environment. When in the context of that safe space, and when I knew that all of me was held, I could attend to mental illness without militancy but with with confidence. Confident self-compassion, empowered by the grace of God, was the difference maker.
With this method applied, my mental illness is not so much defeated as disarmed. I am less at war with myself, more integrated. The depression and anxiety are still voices at the table but I don’t despise them as I did before. Because of this, paradoxically, they have less power. I can de-escalate their contentions with compassion.
With this method applied, my mental illness is not so much defeated as disarmed. I am less at war with myself, more integrated. The depression and anxiety are still voices at the table but I don’t despise them as I did before. Because of this, paradoxically, they have less power. I can de-escalate their contentions with compassion.
Disarmed, the mental illness does not rule the landscape of my mind as much as before. I begin to think in terms of “cans” rather than “shoulds” and think in categories of opportunity rather than categories of obligation or survival. When self-compassion gives me permission to rest and pace myself, and when I’m assured at once that I’m not losing value by doing so, my depression and anxiety are placated. They are disarmed, and life is is more livable.