Quieting the Inner Voice

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Beginning in the summer of 2020, I started struggling with bouts of depression. Something would trigger me, and I’d feel awful for a few days, but it tended to clear up after that—until the next time. This went on for a little more than a year, but then around last Christmas, the struggle became so much more difficult.

I was sad that one of my children had stopped going to Mass and wouldn’t even come at Christmas to sit with me. I let it go on the outside, but I felt crushed on the inside. After Christmas went by, the depressive episode I was in didn’t lift as much as it did in the past. I couldn’t focus on anything during Lent, and when Easter came and I had an empty spot in our pew again, it got worse. How had I failed to pass the Faith on to my child, who has such an open and giving heart? I’d done everything I could to instill her with our Faith, and she rejected it firmly. I felt like such a failure, even though my other daughter is a faithful Catholic. I could only focus on where I’d fallen short.

The inner voice kept taunting me. I had thought I was a good mother, but I really wasn’t. What happens when my husband figures out that I’m not a good wife, either? Your children don’t want you anymore. Your failures bringing them up are hampering their lives as adults. You’ve ruined everything. Maybe you’re doing great at work, but that hardly counts in the long run, does it? Why do you even write for a Catholic website when you are such a failure as a Catholic?

It was just about non-stop, and my birthday, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day only made it worse. Anything that triggered me now sent my spiral downward moving faster. I felt nothing when I prayed, when I went to Mass, when I tried to be with God at Adoration. Only the inner voice was there, and I started hating hearing about the Faith any more or talking about it or even watching anything too religious. My own belief was hanging by the barest thread, and I felt like it might break. I still believed, but it was just so hard.

My younger daughter is a psychology major and felt like something was off with me. “Mom, maybe you should talk to your doctor about antidepressants or something. I think it’ll help you a little.” I had an appointment coming in June, but I wasn’t sure. I knew if I talked about it, I’d start to cry (I’m even crying a little writing this now). I had to go to work after the appointment, and I didn’t want to be a total disaster when I finally got in.

Then the week before my appointment, I was listening to Jen Fulwiler’s "This is Jen" podcast. I had put it off because I couldn’t bear it, but I finally listened to “Happy Pills” (episode 105). She talked about getting help when you needed it, and that one of her kids said that being on anti-anxiety medication helped him to be able to sort out “what was real” in his brain and what was the inner voice.

I still didn’t know if I would bring it up until about 5 seconds after the nurse finished checking me in and asked, “Is there anything else you want to discuss with the doctor today?” I finally said it. I admitted I needed some help. We discussed what was bothering me, and she prescribed an anti-depressant. “It’ll take 4-6 weeks until you really can tell a difference,” she warned. I scheduled a follow up the next month and started taking it the next day. I told my husband and children, and that was it.

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About 5 weeks later, one of my girls asked how the medication was working, and I realized it actually was working. Sometimes something triggers me, but I can acknowledge that it’s upsetting, but then that’s it. No spiral, no inner voice screaming that I’m the worst wife and mother there is.

Click to tweet:
It’s not normal to have an inner voice that does nothing but hurt you, and if that’s what’s happening, you need to tell someone. #catholicmom

This article right here? You are the first people outside of my husband, children, and spiritual advisor who have found out. I struggled with sharing because even though Millenials and Gen Z seem super-comfortable with talking about therapy and their medications, I’m Gen X, and we don’t tend to be that way. My husband likened it to Hamilton, when he has an affair with Mrs. Reynolds. Millenials and Gen Z are like The Reynolds Pamphlet (“He wrote it all down—RIGHT THERE!”), while Gen X tends to be more like Hamilton in the moment he decides to pay off Mr. Reynolds. “Nobody needs to know.”

But you do need to know. I prayed hard about sharing this, and what I got from that prayer was a sense that moms need to know that it’s okay to reach out for help. It’s not normal to have an inner voice that does nothing but hurt you, and if that’s what’s happening, you need to tell someone.

Today, I’ll say a prayer for any one of you who sees yourself here. You are worth more! It’s hard to tell someone, but it’s worth it.

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