What does following Jesus actually look like when you're clinically depressed?

What does following Jesus actually look like when you're clinically depressed?

Not the "had a rough week" kind of down... the kind where getting out of bed feels impossible, joy feels foreign, and even praying feels like too much.

In this raw and honest episode, I'm sharing my own battle with major depressive disorder, and what I've learned about faith when everything feels heavy.

In this episode:

• Why "just choose joy" isn't helpful (and what actually is)
• What happened when I couldn't get out of bed for 3 days
• How God's response shattered everything I believed about my worth
• Why you can have faith AND depression at the same time
• Practical tools that kept me tethered to Jesus in the darkest seasons

The truth: Depression doesn't disqualify you from God's love. You're not failing at faith. You're human, and you're fighting a battle most people can't see.

🆘 Crisis Resources: If you're struggling with thoughts of suicide: Call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline)

💬 What's kept you connected to Jesus when it felt impossible? Share your story in the comments!

🎙️ Subscribe to the podcast so you don’t miss future episodes, and follow me on Instagram @melchanity for more encouragement and resources!

🎁 Sign up for my FREE mini-course on how to process your emotions God's way - without shutting down or spiraling.

Chapters

• 0:00 Introduction: Following Jesus with Clinical Depression
• 6:42 The Unhelpful Things Christians Say
• 16:30 The Story: 3 Days in Bed
• 22:18 Your Worth Isn't Tied to Productivity
• 28:50 What Following Jesus Looks Like When Depressed
• 32:10 Free Mini-Course + Benediction

Transcript

Episode 9 Audio - Depression: 0:47

Hey, friend. Welcome back to the Christian Woman's Journey to healing and identity in Christ. Here we break free from shame, striving, and self-doubt to walk in the freedom and intimacy with God that we were always meant to have. Hi, I'm Melissa Chan, a Christian emotionally healing coach with a PhD in developmental Psychology. I don't show up here as someone who has it all figured out. Because I really don't, I mean, I'm a sanctified mess for Jesus. Let's be real. But I do come here as someone who's healing in real time and sharing vulnerably along the way. If you've ever felt unseen, stuck, or like there's something wrong with you, rest assured you're not alone. I've been there too, We're talking real emotions, real healing, and real Jesus. Today we're discussing something that doesn't get talked about enough in church spaces, what it actually looks like to follow Jesus when you're clinically depressed. And just to clarify, I'm not talking about the had a bad week or in a rough season kind of down. I am talking about the kind where. Getting out of bed feels like trying to lift a semi-truck. Joy feels like a foreign language and basic toss, like showering, responding to a text, even praying, feel. Pretty much impossible. The kind where your faith is still there somewhere, wherever it is, but it's buried underneath layers of exhaustion, confusion, and guilt for not feeling close to God anymore. Before we go any further, just outta curiosity. Have you heard any of these phrases before? Number one, just choose joy. Two pray it away, or rebuke the spirit of depression. Or, finally, the Bible says, counted all joy when you face trials of many kinds, if you're nodding your head right now, maybe even feeling that familiar tightness in your chest, you're not alone. Because meanwhile you're probably thinking, okay, cool, I can barely get out of bed. Thanks for pointing out all the ways that I'm constantly and currently failing. That was exactly the kind of encouragement that I needed. Not, okay. This episode isn't about surface level or temporary sadness from situations that would break anyone's heart. It's about what faith looks like when your brain, your body, and your spirit all feel heavy. And in spite of all of that, you're still trying to follow Jesus through it. So. Let me ask you if you've ever opened up your Bible and felt nothing disconnected, like you've whispered prayers that felt like they evaporated before they even reached heaven, if you're trying so hard with the very little that you have within you and you still can't feel joy or the nearness of God. Can I tell you something? You're not hopeless. You're human, and believe it or not, you're in a prime position to experience Jesus in a way you never have before. But before we dive in, if you're currently in a really dark place of having thoughts of ending your life, please, I implore you. Reach out for help if you're in the us. Call or text nine eight eight. Or talk to a licensed therapist or trusted support. Jesus meets you in your pain. Absolutely. And he also meets you through people who he sends to come alongside you. All right, so let's start here. Clinical depression is a serious mental health condition, not just sadness, not just a weird funk. It's persistent, it's heavy, and it disrupts your ability to function in daily life. You might notice things like lack of energy, trouble sleeping, or sleeping too much. It changes in appetite, trouble concentrating, or even thoughts of suicide or suicidal ideation. Do you notice any of these in your own life right now? Now, keep in mind. That this isn't to diagnose you, but it's to acknowledge what might be happening. If you suspect that you have clinical depression, please once again, reach out to a clinical psychologist. Sometimes it is just super helpful to just name it. I know it was for me. Now depression's causes are pretty complex. It can come from genetics, hormonal imbalance, which. I've definitely dealt with trauma, both childhood trauma, episodic trauma, chronic stress, or even neurodivergence. For me, it's a combination of all things, the hormones, childhood trauma, and just how beautifully neurodivergent my brain is wired. Here's what a lot of people don't understand, depression. Isn't just in your head, it's also in your body. It's physiological. Your brain chemistry is literally different. And when someone tells you to just choose joy, it's like telling someone with a broken leg to just walk it off. I mean. That's not gonna be effective. I have major depressive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder, and let me tell you what depression actually feels like for me. It's different for everybody. For me, it's waking up already exhausted. It's guilt for not feeling grateful when I should be. It's working really, really hard, doing all the right things, quote unquote, both spiritually and practically, and still feeling this heaviness that won't go away. It's the A DHD making everything exponentially harder because no matter how hard I try, I can't get consistent or disciplined. I'd rest but still feel burnt out. I'd serve, but still feel empty. I got to a point where I didn't wanna continue living anymore. It was suffocating like there was no end in sight. And the hardest part, the guilt and the shame for not being more joyful, for not being able to serve the way that I wanted to for feeling like a burden more so than a blessing. Does any of this resonate with you? If it does, just pause for a moment. You're not alone in this, what you're experiencing. It's real, it's valid, and it doesn't make you any less of a Christian. I experienced this on almost every worship team I've served on at different churches. There always came a point when I'd have a depressive episode, and because of that it was really hard for me to get out of bed. Get myself to worship practice, wake up early enough for those practices and be both mentally and emotionally present. At one of my previous churches that I went to, the worship leader met with me to talk about this. It was presented as a check-in, but they dropped a bomb at the very end. They basically said, well, it's perfectly okay that I was struggling the team was still counting on me. I still needed to show up on time, so if I couldn't do that, then I should step down temporarily until I feel better. The problem was that depression isn't just something I get over. It's a continuous cycle, so it made me feel like I'd never be well enough to serve because I wasn't dependable. I tried really hard to get there, but just couldn't, and it made me really, really sad that I couldn't serve because of this. But at my current church, the same situation happened and this worship leader handled it completely differently. He was so understanding and not just giving lip service, not just saying the right Christian thing, but actually living it out. He didn't pressure me to serve, but he always included me. He'd genuinely check in. He'd still place me on the schedule, but give me the freedom to reach out to him and let him know that if I wasn't feeling well enough to serve, no matter how last minute it was. It's okay. I can tell him that he told me that I didn't need to worry about finding someone to take my place. That was something that was on him to do. So the pressure and the guilt were completely lifted with this experience, and for the first time, I truly felt like I could come as I am and still be embraced. That's what Grace looks like. Try harder. Not you're letting people down, but you're loved. You're seen, and we'll figure this out together. Now, here's what didn't help me during my darkest seasons I want you to think about whether you've heard these too. I mentioned these earlier, right? One of them was just choose joy for me. I was like, oh, really? I hadn't thought of that. Let me just flip the joy switch I already have access to, or maybe it was the phrase prayed away. I mean, I've been praying. I promise God and I are on speaking terms. This isn't a lack of prayer issue. Maybe it was for you, the rebuke, the spirit of depression lick. I'm all for praying against spiritual warfare. When it's actually spiritual warfare, but sometimes depression is just a medical condition, not a demon. The Bible says count it all as joy. When you face trials of many kinds, yes, James one does say that, and I am trying to count it all as joy, but when people quote that at me, when I'm drowning, it doesn't feel like encouragement. It feels like condemnation. It's like watching someone drown and instead of trying to save them or throwing them a lifesaver, you're yelling from the shore, um, did you try swimming? You know, the ocean is dangerous without a life jacket, right? Yeah. Not helpful when someone's fighting for their life. Maybe you've heard this one. This is just temporary. I mean, yeah, that can seem comforting and yes, I know it's just temporary, but knowing it doesn't lessen the depression hearing that said to me over and over again felt like it was dismissing my very real struggle in pain. I wasn't trying to be a victim. I just needed someone to actually listen and to understand my experience before jumping in with advice. James one 19 says, be quick to listen and slow to speak, but people were quick to speak advice without first listening to understand, you know, from my perspective, when people skip the listening part and go straight to fixing it doesn't feel like help. It feels dismissive. Which of these statements. Have you heard or had experience with? And more importantly, how did those statements make you feel? Because when I tried to describe my experience and express what I was feeling, it was viewed as grumbling. It was hard to convey. That I can simultaneously struggle with depression and still believe in faith and have hope while also feeling deep heaviness one didn't take away from the other. Here's what people don't understand. You can have faith and depression at the same time. You can trust God and struggle with feeling hopeful. You can believe his promises and still cry yourself to sleep. Romans 1215 tells us to mourn with those who mourn. Not tell them to snap out of it. Even King David in Psalm 42 cried out, why my soul are you downcast? He didn't pretend. Does that sound like grumbling to you or just him pouring out his heart to God? He brought his whole self to God, and that's what we're allowed to do too. Those things aren't mutually exclusive and acting like they are just adds shame on top of an already unbearable weight. So what did help me spiritually during my depressive episodes? Think about this for yourself as I share. For me, it was expressing all of my emotions to God and feeling those emotions with them. Letting him know about all of my fears in a way where I felt free to do that without filtering anything. Still being respectful of God, still placing all of my hope in him, but being honest, raw, real. All of my thoughts, all of my emotions. Psalm 62, 8 says, pour out your hearts to him. For God is our refuge. Pour out not clean up first. Not filter out, pour out. Another is journaling. Getting it all out on paper without judgment. Just sitting still with God is another feeling, his presence to help calm me and lift my spirit, not trying to make something happen. Just being honestly and sincerely asking the Holy Spirit to help me feel the truth of specific verses and promises, not just know them intellectually, but to feel them in my soul. And here's the thing. Even though all those things were helpful, none of that fixed me, so to speak. But it did keep me tethered to him when everything else felt like it was slipping away. So what about you? Even if you're in the thick of it right now, is there just one small thing, maybe just whispering Jesus help that's kept you connected to him? I'd love for you to acknowledge that. Even if it feels tiny, because the reality is it's not super small. It's everything I wanna tell you about a time when I literally could not get out of bed for three days, not because I was lazy. Not because I didn't want to, oh, how I desperately wanted to get out of bed, but because I physically and mentally couldn't. I'm speaking to you as someone who's been in the thick of it. For me, 15 years ago during grad school, I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder. I am no stranger to clinical depression. In fact, I'm just barely coming out of a three month long depressive episode. In that time, I was trying to do all of the things that I knew were good for me, things that were helpful to the best of my ability to. Pray to fast. Study the word, declare and recite scripture over myself. Reach out to community for support, vocalize my needs, practice gratitude. I did all of that. Oh, plus exercise I was doing all the things, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't shake off the heaviness or feel that closeness to God that I felt in previous seasons, the more I tried to press in. The more exhausted I felt. Nothing was working, nothing was changing, I had nothing else left in me. I couldn't get outta bed for three days, like literally didn't eat, didn't shower, didn't work. For those three days, all I could manage was just crying and groaning to God day one. Help me, Lord, please help me day two. God, I can't live like this any longer. You're my only hope. If you can't save me, nothing can. Day three. God, I'm so sorry for not being able to do enough, and on the fourth day, God responded with, I love you, Melissa. That broke me even more. I responded in disbelief. How? How can you love me? I haven't read your word in three days. I've been praying the same desperate cry for help, and it's barely any prayer at all. I'm absolutely disgusting from not showering for so long. And God repeated himself. I love you, Melissa, and he brought to mind how he affirmed Jesus as his beloved son. Even before Jesus began his ministry, before Jesus was doing. Jesus was just being, God called him beloved and was well pleased with him. Not because of the miracles, the ministry, or even how much faith and trust Jesus had in his father. Jesus was affirmed by God, simply because he was loved by God. On the fourth day, for me, the heaviness lifted God's love for me sunk in. And on that day I rose up and finally took a shower. I heard heaven's choir and the angels were rejoicing with that shower. If you're in a place where you feel like you have nothing to offer, God, can you whisper with me right now? God, I'm still here. Even if this is all I have, because that. That's enough. That's worship, that's faith showing up with nothing but your brokenness because small progress is still progress. In fact, let's have what I like to call a petty praise break. Maybe your victory today is that you brushed your hair or you replied to one text, or you put on deodorant for the first time in. Well, uh, let's not count. And don't worry, girl, I won't out you. Your secret's safe with me. Whatever it is, girl, that is not small. That is huge right now. When God spoke to me on day four, I truly realize that God doesn't love me because of what I can produce. He loves me because I'm his. Two Corinthians 12, nine says, my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. His power shows up most when you have nothing left. Your worth isn't tied to your productivity. Your value isn't contingent upon your emotional state. Your identity isn't wrapped up in how well you're doing this Christian Walk. You are his daughter. Full stop. When I finally started to believe that for myself, not just know it, but believe it. Something shifted. Now, here's where I also want to lovingly challenge you and challenge myself too. Depression is real and we still have to steward our choices. Our depression doesn't exempt us from living joyfully and embodying the peace of God, but it might take time to cultivate. And that's okay. Our process isn't going to look the same as someone else's. Philippians two, 12 to 13 says, basically, we work and God works. It's not all on us, but we do have a part to play. We get to partner with the Holy Spirit. What's one thing you know? Would help you that you've been avoiding, not to shame you, but just to acknowledge it. Maybe it's taking your meds if that's part of your treatment. You know, God gave us doctors and medicine for a reason. It's not less spiritual to take antidepressants, maybe going to therapy. There's no shame in getting professional help. Sometimes we need help from someone who's trained to help us untangle everything that's happening, and I, for one, am such a fan of therapy doing the things you know, help, even when you don't feel like sometimes you do have to act your way into that feeling and. Your brain will follow after you asking for help when you need it. Uhhuh, being honest with safe people about what you're going through, because how can people help if they don't know? But all of this means that you keep leaning into God's grace, knowing it's sufficient for you. He's not demanding you to arrive quickly. He is inviting you into the wrestling with him and through it you will grow so much closer to him. You don't have have it all together, but you do have to keep showing up. Even if showing up looks like whispering, Jesus, help me from the comfort of your own bed, God is not disappointed in you. He's not frustrated with your pace. He's not looking at you with his arms crossed and his foot topping waiting for you to get it together. No, none of that is true. Isaiah 42, 3 says he won't break a bruise, reed, or snuff out a smoldering wick if you're already. Barely hanging on. He's not going to crush you. He's gentle with our brokenness. He's looking at you with love, with compassion, with endless patience. Thank God for that. That's faithfulness. That's perseverance. And God sees it when I transitioned to my current church. God explicitly told me to refrain from serving so that I could rebuild my worth on being his child instead of on what I could produce. This was so hard and lasted about seven months. Initially it was really uncomfortable and I was just ready to serve, I reasoned that I wanted to build community and serving was one of the best ways to do that and, you know, to get to know people better. But deep down. It would just perpetuate the association I had between my worth and doing. After all, God wants us to be doers of the word, right? That's how I tried to justify it. But in those seven months, I grew deeper in my relationship with him and ironically or so I thought at the time, he didn't actually leave me when I took a hiatus from serving. Instead, he spoke to me more completely dispelling the lies I had believed that he'd leave me out of disappointment. He was teaching me that my value isn't in what I do for him, but in who I am to him. So what does following Jesus look like? When you're clinically depressed, it looks different than the Instagram and Pinterest version of faith. It looks like getting outta bed even though it feels impossible, and celebrating that as a victory and thanking God for helping you. It looks like whispering. I trust you God, even when you don't feel it. And knowing that's still faith, it looks like taking your meds and going to therapy and asking for help. Recognizing that God often heals through means, not just miracles. It looks like being honest with God about how hard this is, bringing your lament to him, just like King David did. And all throughout the Psalms. It looks like giving yourself grace when you can't serve. Or show up the way you wish you could, and trusting that God's not keeping score. It looks like believing, even when it's just a mustard seed of belief that God is still good, still present, still working, even when you can't see or feel it. Matthew 1128 says, come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest, not come to me when you have it all together. Come weary, come burdened. Come as you are. I want you to take a deep breath with me. Wherever you are right now, whether you're lying in bed, sitting in your car, walking, just breathe and as you breathe, let this truth settle in. You're not failing. You're not too much. You're not a burden. You are deeply loved by a God who sees you, knows you, and he's not going anywhere. Depression doesn't disqualify you from his love. It doesn't mean your faith is weak, it just means you're human and you're fighting a battle that most people can't see or even begin to understand, but God sees and he fully understands. And you know what? He's so proud of you. We're still showing up, still trying, and still believing even when it's hard. You don't have to keep carrying this. And honestly, a part of healing is learning how to actually process your emotions with God, not pray them away, not pretend they're not there, but bring them to him and let him meet you in them. That's something I've had to learn the hard way. For years, I thought my emotions were the problem, but they're not. Emotions are messengers, and when we learn to feel them with God instead of fighting against them or suppressing them, that's when the real healing begins. If you wanna go deeper on this, if you want practical tools for how to actually process your emotions God's way without shutting down, without spiraling, I created a free three day minicourse called From Triggered to Anchored. Yes, that's right. Free. It is everything I wish someone had taught me years ago. And in this course we talk about three main things. How to recognize what's really going on underneath those emotional reactions. Secondly, how to process your emotions with God instead of fighting against them. And finally, how to stay anchored in truth when your emotions feel overwhelming. Because it will happen and you will get triggered. I made it specifically for highly sensitive Christian women like me, who feel deeply and need more than just pray harder advice. You can grab it by clicking on the link in the show notes. Keep going, friend. One breath at a time. One prayer at a time. He's with you and he's not letting you go. And now my friend, just for funsies, receive the depressed girl's benediction. May your meds be effective and your side effects. Be mild. May you feel God's nearness in your messy and unmade bed. May you remember that healing isn't linear. It's more like holy chaos and grace sprinkled all throughout in the middle. And may you know deep in your tired bones that you are not too much, too broken or too behind. You are loved. Exactly as you are and also as you're growing into, so go in peace and maybe take a nap, eat a snack, amen. Until next time, keep it real with real emotions, real healing, and real Jesus. Bye.