Why I Stopped Calling Depression A Choice

As an entertainer, my job is to give people a reason to smile. Many of the songs I sing are to help my audience either forget their struggles or find new courage to face them, and any emotion I feel or convey from the stage is dictated by that principle. If only emotions were that predictable off stage.

I grew up hearing cliches like "life is what you make it" and "happiness is a choice", and I guess I just assumed that was true. I still think it is - to a degree - but not every emotion can be called a choice. I know better than that now, and so does anyone else who's struggled with depression.

I know what you're thinking: "What do you know about depression, Pearl? You're one of the funniest people I know. Do you even know how to not smile?" Well shucks, thanks for complimenting my sense of humor! But yes, I have actually experienced very smile-less depression, and more than once.

I never woke up one day and said "I think I'll be depressed today", or "Imma try depression out for a change", because it's not a choice, it's a progression. A subtle, sneaky progression that happened without my even noticing it. It happened something like this:

A couple years ago, a good friend of mine died unexpectedly. The shock was unlike anything I can remember. We grew up together in Minnesota and although I can remember life before I met him, I didn't know how to imagine life without him. He was selfless, enthusiastic, and a born leader. How could someone so genuine, so influential be gone?

That thought circled in my mind for weeks that seemed like months. Time seemed to stop but somehow life kept going. I kept going too, I even wrote a song, but I found myself questioning everything: relationships, goals, life itself. The more I questioned, the less I cared. One recurring thought played over and over in my mind: What's the point? What's the point of life or relationships if someone that good, that passionate, could be gone so quickly?

This apathy wasn't restricted to my thoughts, though, and soon began manifesting itself in my behavior. I noticed myself becoming less talkative, less productive, and less happy. As I noticed these changes, I started asking a different question: "What's wrong with me?"

I slowly began connecting the dots to realize what had triggered these changes. I tried to pinpoint what I was feeling and why I was feeling that way. I'd seen this happen before - but not to me, and I knew: this was Depression. I didn't choose it but it had happened, and now it was staring me in the face.

Now what?

This was where the choice came in - and it wasn't an easy one. Every time I've ever seen someone struggle with depression, it's like a force of suction; the longer it lasts, the stronger it gets, and stopping it requires courageous, intentional intervention. So what was I going to do?

"I knew I needed help
from someone besides myself..."

The first thing I did was pray. I didn't hardly know what to pray at first, but I knew I needed help from someone besides myself and God has promised He can supply that. For a while it seemed like the only thing I could pray was "God, please help me to care." Eventually I was able to expound on that, but that was my starting place.

My friend was gone but I was still here and I had a purpose. I needed to care about life, others, and glorifying God in the process, and eventually I was able to see that again. In the meantime, I didn't know how to tell anyone what I was feeling - especially my immediate family - but one night I was talking to my aunt on the phone and I found myself asking her to pray for me. "Absolutely!" she replied, and then asked how. I was silent for a few seconds then slowly replied "I think.. I'm.. struggling with... ... depression."

It was harder to say than I thought it would be, but after that I was able to talk again. I told her what had been going on and she was more than willing to pray for me. Somehow, talking it through helped me to look ahead better. It also gave me some accountability.

I wasn't alone with my emotions anymore. Someone who knew how I felt was now checking in to see how I was doing. Just knowing she cared made me feel strangely obligated to overcome that depression. I began looking for reasons to interact with people again. I began looking for ways to help others instead of just focusing on my loss. I began asking God to help me know and serve Him better. Eventually I found myself looking back on depression instead of trying to look through it.

"Depression isn't a choice  but when you recognize it, you can choose to do something about it."

I didn't choose depression. I don't think anyone else chooses depression either. However, if you recognize when depression is present, whether in yourself or a friend, you can choose to do something about it. Don't ignore it. Ask about it, talk about it, pray about it. Don't be afraid or ashamed to reach out for help.

Depression isn't a choice, but I can't say it's hopeless either. I've been there, multiple times, and I know better. Maybe you or one of your friends have too.

Maybe you're there now.

Let me encourage you to look for the light at the end of the tunnel; it's there - I promise! Find a friend or a professional to help you reach for it. That, my friends, is a choice, and I pray that you will have the courage to make it.