(This article also includes a 3-part podcast discussion. Listen on your Apple (part 1, 2, 3) or Android (part 1, 2, 3) podcast app.)
We began this series by looking at the basics of psychology (link). In parts 2 (link) and 3 (link), we discussed how we are both physical and spiritual beings, why psychology can’t address the whole person, and why it must necessarily separate our problems from our savior. Now let’s look at what psychology says about my own history, and why that simply isn’t enough.
A case study
In part one, I shared the various diagnoses I was given to my problems. Dysthimia, severe depression, Borderline Personality Disorder, and Avoidant Personality Disorder. I’d like to look at each of these and explain why these disorders were assigned to me. I know it can be uncomfortable for people to talk about mental health, especially in the Christian community. However, I’ve found great hope and joy in what I’ve gone through and how God has used it. So I hope readers won’t be put off by my frankness and openness.
Dysthimia
This is basically a constant, low-grade form of depression. Where most depression sufferers will fluctuate between “normal” and “severely depressed,” I would never fluctuate back to normal. I always felt a sense of never catching my “emotional breath.” The world always had a shade to it, as though I couldn’t quite experience life clearly. I always had a sense of hopelessness, with thoughts and desires of suicide always residing somewhere in my mind.
Severe depression
On top of the constant “below average” state of mind, I would also hit severe lows in my depression. I would find the weight of life so crushing and insurmountable that I would shut down, sometimes finding my greatest victory of the day in simply getting out of bed or leaving the house. These episodes could last for days at a time, with some months having very little reprieve between each one.
Borderline Personality Disorder
This is exemplified by living at extremes and a feeling of disconnection from the world.
- I would often live in fear of abandonment, lies, or secret resentment by friends and romantic partners, leading to intense and desperate attempts to keep people on my side
- My emotional response to people and situations would live on the volatile ends of being pleased or erupting into anger and long-term resentment
- I lived impulsively by abusing food, spending money recklessly, and driving dangerously
- I constantly felt a sense of emptiness and disconnection from the world, as though I was a passenger in my own life
- I would burn myself with water when I wanted to feel something
- If all else failed, I would make feeble suicide attempts because I felt like I didn’t know what else to do
Avoidant Personality Disorder
I had an incredibly negative view of myself and always assumed people secretly despised me. I learned to just avoid most social situations because the fear of being silently judged and hated by so many people became too much to bear. This wasn’t just a matter of avoiding parties, but doing absolutely anything to prevent social encounters of any form, whether it was people I knew or the cashier at the gas station.
Treating the symptoms of cancer
Doctors were able to analyze my problems and tell me what it meant. As we’ve discussed, there’s a difference between what psychology observes and how we interpret it. The problems I was suffering were very real, and could be observed and drawn out through some well-trained forms of questioning and investigation. However, a worldview that says we are purely physical beings had no choice but to diagnose and treat me based on physical factors. The only solutions were medication to treat my brain’s chemical malfunctions, teaching coping mechanisms to handle my emotional responses, or digging deeper into my life to expose how past trauma had led to current disorders.
And certainly, all those things can help. However, they come up short because they only addressed the symptoms of the cancer that was killing me. The doctors could see my problems, and based on their worldview they had an effective way to treat them. But in the end, all I was doing was learning to live with my problems. They weren’t being removed, because the crucial part of my humanity, my spiritual reality, was being completely ignored.
By necessarily ignoring the issue of our sinful hearts, psychology is like a doctor who doesn’t believe in cancer. They may treat the blood your coughing up, remove unsightly tumors, and give medication to treat seizures, but their beliefs prevent them from getting to the true cause of the symptoms. In other words, they treat the fruit of the issue, but they never get down to the root that causes those issues to develop.
Seeing beyond the diagnosis
As I was shown more and more of who Christ was, I started seeing something fascinating about all my problems that were, allegedly, a mix of physical and emotional problems. If I was willing to be brutally honest with myself, removing the safety nets of blaming my problems on biology or my past, I could see that every problem I had could be traced back to my own sinful heart. Take a look at all my symptoms that were being treated, but in larger categories.
Social problems
My self-image was weak, abandonment was always a concern, the fear of how others perceived me would dictate my decisions, and any actual criticism would send me into depression.
In other words, I feared people. I let the thoughts and opinions of others decide my own worth. What they thought of me decided how I thought of myself. I would try to appease, manipulate, or control what I could to seek validation. In areas where I couldn’t, I would withdraw for fear of what their opinions, real or imagined, would do to me.
Do not fear those who kill the body but are unable to kill the soul; but rather fear Him who is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. (Matthew 10:28)
I gave power to others. They were the ones telling me my value. They were the ones I needed to please. I gave them the power to decide whether I was happy.
I made other people an idol, and I would sacrifice anything to please that god, or I would cower in fear if I didn’t think I could.
Self harm, control, manipulation, anger, impulsivity
These issues came from two very different places that, in a way, are also very similar. I needed to have control over my world, while at the same time enjoying the power of giving up control to my impulses. Consider the root of why I would…
- Hurt myself in order to control how I felt
- Control or manipulate others to feed my need for their approval
- React in extreme anger when things wouldn’t go how I wanted
- Set my needs of the moment above what was good for me or safe for others
In addition to all of that, my fear of the unknown would contribute to times of deeper depression. And all of that really boils down to one thing: I needed to be in control of things. Even in those things that were so harmful, whether blowing money or burning myself, all came down to the fact that I could feel in control of something in my life.
Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. (Philippians 4:6)
My world had no understanding of a sovereign God. He existed, but my problems were mine to solve. And when I lost that control, when I realized how very small my power was, I would always react with anger or hopelessness.
Depression, detachment, and suicide
Whether the constant feeling of dimness, the vicious grip of deep depression, or a complete detachment from the world, everything I experienced for 18 years could be traced back to a feeling of hopelessness.
- I didn’t know what to do with my life
- Lasting happiness seemed unattainable
- My efforts at validation felt pointless, even when I was successful
- Control over my world never lasted, and those things I could control most were the ones that caused me the greatest harm
- I couldn’t picture a future that could be any better than the last 5, 10, or 18 years had been
- I would mentally remove myself from the world as a way of not dealing with things
When that hopelessness had been a constant companion long enough, suicide began to be the only thing that made sense. I didn’t necessarily want to die, but what else was there to do? No amount of effort on my part seemed to matter, the things I attained didn’t make me happy, and I seemed to live in a world I simply wasn’t compatible with.
One big umbrella
There’s a certain tone that underscores everything I experienced. Every trace of anger, depression, fear, and need for control really, truly boiled down to one thing: pride. I had made myself my own god, putting my wants as the highest priority. In pride, I was living in idolatry and couldn’t see how much it was destroying me.
I wanted to be thought of a certain way, and the fear that my false god would fail me left me absolutely crippled around other people. My need to be served would feed my need for control, and my lack of power would lead to rage. And when I, my own god, failed to bring me happiness, I responded with despair and a desire to end my life.
My entire existence, like so many others, was bound up in myself. Although I had such a wide variety of symptoms, my core issue was clear. I wanted nothing more than to find joy and satisfaction my way. God was just a secondary thought to everything – a part of my life, but not the primary source of my worship.
Fruits and roots
There’s no doubt that some emotional issues are physical. Science seems to show that our brains and other biology can have a direct impact on our mental and emotional state. We need to look no further than how tempted we are toward anger when we’re tired.
However, I was told my brain didn’t produce an important chemical. Testing is rarely done – doctors simply listen to symptoms and diagnose what it sounds like. And people like me spend their lives with a certain label and assumption about themselves.
Yet when we view the whole person, body and spirit, a very different picture starts to form. We can observe certain behaviors and emotions, but so often those aren’t a person’s true problem. Instead, those are fruits growing from a certain kind of tree that grows from our sinful hearts. If we want to do more than manage our problems, and truly see victory, we won’t find answers from a worldview that ignores the reality of God, sin, and our need for Jesus Christ.
If we want to see our behaviors change, we need to kill the very root of our problems. Our sinful hearts, whether it’s pride or idolatry or something else entirely, need to be surrendered to Jesus Christ. We need to see our spiritual sickness first, understanding that the state of our hearts is what truly affects our thoughts and actions.
Whatever sin we harbor will slowly grow, manifesting itself in ways that seem completely unrelated. How could I have guessed that poor self-image, impulsiveness, and even thoughts of suicide weren’t that I didn’t love myself enough, but that I loved myself too much? In a worldview that puts us at the center, it makes no sense. Yet as a people who were redeemed from the bondage of sin by Jesus Christ, we understand that there is no end to our own depravity. And with that, we also know there is no end to the grace offered by our savior.
The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth what is evil; for his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart. (Luke 6:45)
