Tuesday, November 18, 2014

The Purpose of Our Suffering



There are so many aspects of depression that are difficult to deal with and overcome. As I’ve sat in many therapy sessions, the question that haunts me the most is, “Why can’t I feel God’s love for me?” And, “Why can’t I feel love from others?”

This one question, more than any others I have struggled with, has caused me the deepest sorrow, and most reflection. Logically, I know God loves me. I know many friends and family love me as evidenced by their attempts to help me feel better. Yet for some reason, I can’t feel any of that love.

Not feeling loved is something I have always struggled with. I honestly don’t know why. Logically I know it to be true, but I can’t feel it, and therefore question its truth. Knowing and feeling are two completely different things. If those aren’t in sync, it throws everything else off.

I’ve questioned my sanity. I’ve questioned my ability to tell the difference between right and wrong. All because I can’t seem to sync these two phenomena in my mind.

I’ve also cried out in prayer (screamed actually… just this morning driving in my car), “Why am I here? Why am I alive? Is there no forgiveness for me?” I have become convinced that I have committed something so heinous that I am beyond forgiveness, and Heavenly Father is bound and can’t share His love with me. I often think how I hate the person I’ve become. Moody, always sad, crying a lot, feeling like even the simplest of things are impossible to do.

But worst of all, I’ve felt completely abandoned. I think we can all agree, without citing a bunch of scholarly journal articles, that love is a basic human need. Not being able to feel that, no matter how hard I tried, left me barely breathing as the negative thoughts circled through my head. This absence of love feels like a black hole surrounding me. Anything good that comes my way gets sucked in – and away from me. The pain has been so tangible, I’ve reached out into the air around me, trying to push it away. I’ve cried, screamed and yelled, asking why I’m alive if my only purpose is to hurt those around me or spread this emptiness.

No answers.

So I’ve continued, day after day, feeling completely alone, shunned even by my creator – even though logically I knew this wasn’t true. Recently I’ve taken to pleading with Him to allow me to feel some semblance of hope, love, forgiveness, acceptance from Him.

Still nothing.

My sense of loss, this morning, reached an all-time low. I started once again, for the thousandth time this year, to think of how I could most peaceably and discretely end my life.

Then today, I visited www.lds.org searching for this month’s Visiting Teaching Message (Women in the LDS church strive to visit a few other women in their congregation on a monthly basis, called visiting teaching, to provide friendship and help). I was distracted by the words on the homepage, “Are your trials changing you for the better?” This linked to a new video titled “The Refiner’s Fire”. The woman in the video shared her experience losing two (almost three) of her children and her husband to cancer. She made the comment that the experience was like Newton’s Law – for every action there is an equal and opposing reaction. The only way she can now “mourn with those who mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:9) is because she has gone through it herself. She now finds joy in helping others in their times of pain.

After watching this, I remembered a conversation I had with my sister-in-law this weekend. I brought up a phrase in my patriarchal blessing (a blessing given to worthy members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints offering counsel from the Lord. More here.) that talks about love. I mentioned I thought it was ironic that it would talk about me loving others, when I can’t feel love from anyone. How am I supposed to do what I was put here on earth to do, if I can’t feel love? It makes me feel so selfish and self-absorbed – the opposite of love.

Then it hit me. If my purpose in life is to love others, how can I accomplish that if I don’t fully comprehend and know what a complete lack of love feels like? How can I completely love those around me, if I don’t know what it’s like to feel that never-ending, all-consuming pain of being abandoned when you need it most?

Then I thought, isn’t that exactly what Christ did for us? How could He comfort us (John 14:18) through our deepest, darkest moments, if he didn’t know what it felt like?

I can’t say I’m completely comforted, yet, with this new insight. And even though I have this knowledge, which I am still wrapping me head around, it’s not any easier to feel unloved. And I’m actually a little saddened that it’s taking me such a long time to learn this lesson. But I really do hope, that someday, this will make sense. That all of the pain, tears, feelings of hopelessness, and utter abandonment, will someday help someone else. I say I hope because so far no one has gotten through to me, to make all the darkness flee away. Well, except for whoever was involved in producing that short video I watched today. If I only had the power to take away this pain from others, I would. When I do die, there’s no need to send me to hell, because I’ve been living it in my head for the past year. If I can somehow ease that burden from someone else, well, it would mean a lot to me.

Here’s to hoping I can make it through this, and help others by loving them with a complete understanding of what they’re going through. Because I know.