Mormon Women and Depression
When I started to question my Mormon beliefs several years ago, I was certain that I was completely alone in my doubts. Then one day, totally by accident, I came across this web site (www.exmormon.org), and my life drastically changed. I suddenly realized that I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t crazy. Other people just like me, were questioning and leaving the church. For those of you who are LDS and are visiting this site for the first time, please know that I understand where you are, and how scary it is for you to be here. Also, please realize that my only agenda in sharing this story is to let others know they aren’t alone.
I am a 38-year-old woman whose Mormon heritage goes back to the late 1800’s when my great-great grandparents joined the church in Northwestern Arkansas. The church wasn’t highly thought of in Arkansas in those days, since some of the victims of the Mountain Meadows Massacre were from that same area. Several of my ancestors had to keep their affiliation with the church a secret so they wouldn’t hurt their professional and political careers. A few of my great-great-grandparents eleven children joined the church around that time and moved to Utah. One of their children, my great-grandmother, joined the church in 1900. However, immediately after she was baptized, she had the distinct feeling that she had made a mistake, and never attended church after that. Consequently, she didn’t raise her younger children, including my grandmother, as members of the church. Over the years the number of Mormon family members living in Utah increased dramatically, so it was only a matter of time before they referred the missionaries to the non-LDS family members living in Arkansas and Oklahoma. My family was visited by the missionaries numerous times throughout the 1950’s and 60’s, with my mother and older siblings finally getting baptized in 1965 when I was just a baby. My father joined the church a few years later, but wasn’t active until he was much older. Due to my mother’s influence, I grew up being very strong and active in the church.
Growing up in Oklahoma was quite challenging to my Mormon faith at times, especially when my Baptist friends were constantly trying to "save" me, tell me that I wasn’t Christian, that I was going to hell, and that my religion was founded by a drunken adulterer. Being the diligent Mormon girl that I was though, I constantly defended the church, and was proud to be part of the "elect" who was chosen to be Mormon in the latter-days. In retrospect, these friends probably knew more about my religion than I did. I generally avoided hanging around non-members in high school because of their criticism of the church, and even quit dating a wonderful young man because he wasn’t LDS. The irony of it is, he didn't drink or pressure me for sex, he went to his own church every Sunday, and was an honor roll student. I stopped dating him because of pressure from my bishop to start dating someone who was a member of the church. As it turned out, the LDS boy I started to date was a daily pot smoker, drank alcohol, and rarely went to school. But hey, he said he had a testimony, and he was going on a mission. Isn't it every young Mormon girls dream to marry a returned missionary?
This young man did end up going on a mission, but I decided not to wait for him. In fact, while he was gone I met and married someone else. Gary (not his actual name), the man I ended up getting married to, joined the church when he was twenty years old. He was brought up in an abusive home, with alcoholic parents, and I’m certain was looking for love and acceptance when he met the missionaries. He had been searching for a place to belong – for a family, and the church seemed like the perfect answer for him at the time. He started attending a singles ward soon after his baptism, and immediately believed that he had a testimony. Take a guy who had never experienced organized religion in his life, send him to a singles ward with dozens of women looking for "Mr. Right", and I guarantee you that any guy would have a testimony real quick! It certainly didn’t hurt that they would bake him cookies, clean his house, and proposition him every chance they got, but I digress. I wasn't in that singles ward, but we did meet at a singles dance (shocking, I know). We dated for over one year, and decided to get married in the temple in 1982.
We had all the typical temptations that engaged couples have when it comes to being chaste, but exercised incredible self-control, considering the fact that we were so young and madly in love. We decided to start praying on our dates, and even talked to our bishop about the desires and feelings we were having. The bishop assured us that everything was okay, and that it was perfectly normal to have these desires. According to the bishop, we were still on track to go to the temple, but he thought we should go very quickly. We were so relieved!
Imagine my surprise when Gary was called into a Bishop’s Court at the singles ward just a few days later – a ward he had stopped attending several months before this time. A former roommate had told the Bishop that he had often seen Gary in compromising situations with a former girlfriend, and that he had debts that were still outstanding. It’s hard to imagine that this was grounds for a court, but evidently this Bishop had a reputation for cleaning house quite often. Gary went to the court, not really knowing what to expect, but was honest about his shortcomings. Yes, the roommate had seen him and his previous girlfriend in compromising situations several times, but they never had sexual intercourse, and yes, he still owed his former roommate some money. All I remember is that Gary came out of the Bishop’s office that night in tears, because he had been excommunicated. We were stunned and devastated!
I’m certain that this particular Bishop didn't like Gary because he was established in a career when he joined the church, and he chose not to go on a mission. Perhaps he felt that Gary was a bad example for the other young men in the singles ward, and he wanted to make an example out of him. I never fully understood how someone who had only been a member of the church for two years and had never been to the temple, could be excommunicated. What amazed me even more was how two different Bishops, who supposedly receive their inspiration from the same God, can interview the same man and receive two totally different answers.
We decided to get married quickly after he was excommunicated. Even though I was only eighteen years old, I was in love with Gary, and I knew that I wanted to marry him. I was literally begged, threatened, and shamed by every LDS person I knew not to marry him, because he was unworthy and couldn’t take me to the temple. The Bishop who excommunicated him invited me to come to his home so he could give me a priesthood blessing, and reluctantly I went. In this blessing he promised me great things if I didn't marry Gary. We got married anyway, in shame, in a quiet little ceremony with mostly family. I remember being told that the real celebration would come when we married in the temple someday, and that we had to keep our civil ceremony very small and simple. My Bishop even wanted us to get married in the Relief Society room, but I insisted on getting married in the chapel. Looking back now, I wish we would have gone to the nice country club near my parent's home, and invited everyone we knew. Since my husband had been excommunicated, everyone naturally assumed that I was pregnant. Although I shouldn’t have cared what they thought, I was very happy to prove them wrong. Everyone warned me how horrible life would be for me, being married to someone who didn't have the spirit with him, but actually, our married life got off to a pretty good start. We both had good jobs, were able to purchase a new home, and we continued to go to church. Gary was rebaptized a year after we got married, and strangely enough, that’s when things started going downhill. In fact, that's when the nightmare began.
When we first got married, we got along incredibly well. We decided to wait for a while to start a family, and even talked about starting our own business. We seemed to worked well as a team, and we began to set some high goals for our future. When he got rebaptized though, things started to change drastically. All of the sudden he wanted to be accountable for everything - every penny, every decision, where I went, and even the clothing I wore. He saw himself as the head of the household, and even titled himself as the "Final Decision Maker". I’m now convinced that this was Gary’s attempt to become a really good priesthood holder. The sad part of this story is, he became so domineering, and expected me to be so submissive, that when things didn’t go his way, he became physically and emotionally abusive. The strange thing is, I never saw myself as abused, because he didn’t beat me or give me horrible bruises. I didn’t see the demeaning names he called me, the hair pulling, and the slaps, as abuse. I made excuses for him, and simply tried to avoid making him lose his temper. When he did lose his temper, I became like an obedient little child, terrified of him, and so desperately wanting his love and approval. I actually even thought that on those occasions when he lost his temper, it could be prevented by me, if only I could be a better wife. It certainly didn't help matters when our Bishop told me the same thing, saying things like "Try not to provoke him", or "Maybe you should improve your cooking skills".
We had six children in eight years, which did nothing but define our roles even more. In the beginning, having this many children made me feel like an incredibly good Mormon woman, because I was able to stay home with my babies, and take care of everyone’s needs, except of course my own. Gary saw these differences in our roles and took them very seriously. He had a great job and traveled frequently, and consequently I started to feel inferior to him and everyone he associated with. I had put college on hold to raise my children, I didn't have time to pursue any of my own interests, a job outside of the home was out of the question, and my husband was extremely busy with his career and church callings. I was starting to feel very unhappy and depressed a great deal of the time, and I felt too ashamed to admit it to anyone. Afterall, I had the gospel - how could I be so miserable?
We finally went to the temple to be sealed in July of 1990. This day had been built up in my mind for many years as one of the most important days of my life. In a way, I expected my world to change that day, and that the spiritual experience I would have in the temple would outshine any other experience of my life. What happened instead was perhaps the biggest disappointment of my life. Not only did I not find the experience to be spiritual, but I left that day with a sick feeling of what I had just experienced. Admittedly, I probably expected too much, and it had likely been built up to an unrealistic level. Imagine for a moment though that you’re promised this great experience, and what really happens is a series of strange rituals, oaths and gestures. What shook me up the most wasn't the secret handshakes or weird gestures – it was having to reveal my new name to my husband, being told that I didn’t get to know his name, and then promising to obey him. It made me feel like he was literally put in charge of my salvation. A family member later suggested that perhaps I didn’t like the experience because I wasn't prepared or worthy enough to be there in the first place. I do know one thing - if I would have gone one year earlier, before they removed certain things from the endowment ceremony, I think I would have left in the middle of it. There was one bright spot in the day though - seeing my precious children dressed in white, and thinking they looked like angels.
I always assumed that I had a testimony of the church. I never questioned what I was taught by my parents or teachers, and simply believed that by being a member of the church, I had the truth. As people in the LDS church often say, "Once a church leader has spoken, the thinking has been done". That was how I lived my life. I bore my testimony dozens of times, professing to know that Joseph Smith was a true prophet, and that the Book of Mormon was true. However, I felt like I was somehow unworthy because I had never had the much sought after "burning in the bosom" like other people talked about when they said they knew the church was true. I was certainly trying to live a righteous life. We paid tithing, we were very active in our ward, we said prayers and read scriptures as a family, and were diligently committed to our callings - but still no answer to my prayers. What did I have to do, and how perfect did I have to be, for Heavenly Father to give me the "burning in the bosom"?
During this time-period, the problems in marriage began to escalate. Gary and I fought constantly, and we seriously considered getting a divorce. The abuse had escalated also, and that only furthered my feelings of depression and hopelessness. One evening in late 1994, my husband’s abuse got out of hand. My sister intervened and helped me realize that I had to take charge of the situation by calling the police and pressing charges against him. Sadly, I never valued myself enough to press charges against him for hurting me. It was only when he abused one of our children that I finally woke up and realized that I had an obligation to protect them. When I called my Bishop to let him know what had happened, and that I had taken legal action against my husband, I was in for the surprise of my life. Not only did I not receive the emotional support that I thought I would, but I was chastised for my actions. My Bishop said "Sandy, I promise you that your life will be hell if you don't drop the charges against your husband and allow him to come back to the home". I was devastated. My worth as a woman had just been demeaned once again, and this Bishop had put my husband, even with his abusive actions, back on his pedestal. The only act of support that the Bishop did provide was about the most condescending and hurtful thing he could have done. He sent the Relief Society President to my home to counsel me on being a better homemaker.
I refused to drop the charges against Gary, but did allow him to move back into our home under one condition – he had to get into counseling. Unfortunately, we continued to go to the Bishop for marital advice, and it was always very biased in my husband’s favor. The one piece of advice that my Bishop seemed to give over and over again, was that many of our problems would be solved if we would read the Book of Mormon more often, and pray together as a couple. To think that I actually had hoped to get some practical advice! Had he even heard me? Didn't he understand that my husband had been verbally and physically abusive to our children and me? Did he care?
Depression hit me really hard at this point, and I was in denial about it. My doctor diagnosed me with major depression, and I refused medication for it for over one year. I felt very ashamed, so empty inside, and incredibly alone. I didn't get any comfort from church, the scriptures, or my pleadings with the Lord, and I wondered if I would ever feel peace in my life. Of course, my depression just made me feel even more inferior to all of the radiant LDS sisters who appeared to have happy marriages, and who claimed to know the church was true. One Sunday, a woman in my ward got up to speak in sacrament meeting, and talked for so long, that her husband didn't have time to speak at all. Her entire talk was about how depression had plagued her life for years, and how she felt like she would never feel peace or be happy. The amazing thing was, she was one of the most beautiful and talented women in the ward, and everyone naturally assumed that she had it all together. There was a line of women to talk to her after church that day. Someone later confided that many of them told her that her talk had a profound effect on them, because they too were suffering from depression. I was stunned! How could this be? All this time I thought I was the only LDS woman to feel the way I did. It was an incredible realization to find out that I wasn’t alone..
In the summer of 1996, we were attending fast and testimony meeting in our ward in the Seattle area, when my 10-year-old daughter got up to bear her testimony. I saw my daughter up on the podium saying all of the same things that she had heard me say for years…I know this church is true, I know Joseph Smith was a true prophet, I know the Book of Mormon is true…and I knew that I had done her and all of my children a great disservice. People smiled and patted her on the back as she came to sit with her family, and I was in tears. They weren’t tears of happiness though – they were tears of shame. For years I had said all of these same things, but I didn't know they were true. My daughter had never even read the Book of Mormon, and yet she was claiming to know it was true. The fact is, I had trained her very well, and I was ashamed of myself. She was going through the motions just like I had been for many years, and was following down my same path – a path that had brought me incredible unhappiness. I understood right then that I didn't have a testimony of the church at all. Amazingly enough, that was one of our last times to attend the LDS church.
I suddenly had a mission – I had to know that the church was true. I started spending a great deal of time reading everything I could get my hands on about church history, Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, and other church related materials. I started this process with the intention of gaining a stronger testimony, but the exact opposite happened, and I quickly ended up studying my way right out of the church. I have read some incredible books like ‘Studies of the Book of Mormon’, ‘Inventing Mormonism’, ‘No Man Knows My History’, ‘In Sacred Loneliness’, ‘Emma Smith – Mormon Enigma’, and many others. The interesting thing is that I have gotten most of my information from church approved materials that are readily available at Deseret Books or the ward library, and from books that are written by LDS Historians. The Journal of Discourses was very enlightening for me, as was the Mormon Doctrine, and The Miracle of Forgiveness. During this process I found it difficult to understand why the teachings of some prophets are considered doctrine, but the teachings of others are just opinions or even considered false doctrine (blood atonement, the Adam-God doctrine, polygamy, blacks having the priesthood). I have the opinion that most members of the church probably don't even know the actual history of it – just the candy coated version they hear at church. I certainly didn’t know how fascinating and colorful Mormon history was, and neither do most of my family members who serve in various leadership positions in the church. When I asked one of my brothers (a former Bishop) about the origins of the Book of Abraham, he didn't have a clue where it had come from. He also had no idea that Joseph Smith had practiced polygamy for atleast 10 years before the 1843 revelation, or that he had over thirty-three wives, some as young as fourteen years old.
When I approached Gary with my findings on church history, I was shocked to learn that he had thought of leaving the church for years. Like most people who have been through the temple, the thought of leaving the church scared both of us. However, since then, he too has studied, and has come to the same conclusions that I have. It became apparent to us that staying in the church and not having a testimony would be dishonest, so in March of 1997, we sent a letter to have our names removed.
Gary miraculously stopped being abusive after that incident in 1994. However, I can honestly say that the church had no influence on him changing his abusive behavior. In fact, I will go one step further - I believe that the church only furthered his abusive tendencies by never chastising him, by never offering him professional counseling, and by continually putting him on a pedestal simply because he had the priesthood. I have forgiven Gary for the abuse he inflicted on us, and I am proud of him for changing that behavior. Considering the fact that he came from a very abusive home, and suffered incredible abuse from both of his parents, I think he has come a long ways. It is my hope that the cycle of abuse has been broken in our family, and that our children will never abuse others.
I wish I could say that our marriage survived all of this turmoil, but it didn't. We very amicably ended our marriage in 1997. We have somehow managed to remain great friends, and we work hard to present a united front for our children. We live a few miles apart, and share custody. Gary remarried in 1999, and seems very happy. I’ve decided to remain single until my children are grown.
As far as my depression goes, it has virtually disappeared, and I have been anti-depressant free since leaving the church. I believe there are several factors to consider for my lack of depression; First of all, I just have a better outlook on life, and no longer expect perfection from myself or anyone else. I still make mistakes, but I no longer beat myself up over them, I no longer live in regret, and instead view everything I’ve been through as a learning experience. Secondly, I finally have balance in my life, and no longer put my needs on the back-burner. I truly love being a mother and am proud of my children, but I also appreciate the time I have away from them. Overall, I think we all appreciate one another more now. I work fulltime in the software industry, get to travel occasionally, and I go on adventures every chance I get. I believe all of these things have contributed greatly to my sense of happiness and well-being. Last but not least – I have finally realized that I have so much potential as a woman, and that I’m not any less a person because I don’t have the priesthood. Sadly, this is something I never realized as a member of the church.
I'm now convinced than depression among LDS women is rampant, and being free of that burden of constant guilt and self-doubt has made my life very beautiful and fulfilling. I felt for years that I was never worthy in God's eyes, and that I would never be perfect enough to return to him. I was constantly afraid of death, and what my fate would be on the other side. Living my life in fear was hell! The greatest thing that has happened is that I no longer see Gary or any man as my ticket to happiness or to the Celestial Kingdom. I am also convinced that our children will have much better lives outside of Mormonism, and that we can raise them with values and integrity not only without the church, but without religion altogether.
The challenge when I left the church was to find a spiritual and religious replacement. I naturally assumed that I would convert to mainstream Christianity when I left, but that didn’t feel right for me either. Questioning Mormonism without questioning the Bible and Christianity, didn’t seem logical to me, and I quickly decided that I couldn’t believe in a God who would judge his children by their labels or religious preference. I occasionally attend a Unitarian church here in Seattle, but I attend out of desire, not obligation. I now consider myself Agnostic, and am completely comfortable in saying that I don’t know all of the answers - and I don’t believe anyone does. This reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Andre Gide; "Trust those who are seeking the truth; Beware of those who say they have found it".
The most amazing discovery for me since leaving the church, has been realizing that my spirituality hasn’t ended. When I was a member of the church, I thought that I had "felt the spirit" many times. You know, that feeling that you get when you’re singing the "The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning", or "O My Father"? I still get that feeling quite often, but now I realize it’s based on emotion and endorphins. My sense of worship now comes from seeking beauty – something I do actively. The feeling of awe I get when I see the glow of Mt. Rainier at sunset, drive through the Redwoods, or when I listen to someone like Pat Metheny, Sade, or the soundtrack to Les Miserables, is beautiful to me, and is much more fulfilling than the guilt-ridden emotional rush I sought after in the church.
Many of my LDS family members were shocked and devastated when I left the church, and some of us didn’t speak for quite some time. However, we have recently made peace, and consequently, I don’t feel quite as alone as I did a few years ago. I firmly believe that my family expected my life to fall apart when I left, and when that didn’t happen, I think they were surprised. I think my family can see that I’m still basically the same person that I was before, who has a good heart and is trying to raise good and moral children. They also know that I didn't leave the church to live a deviant lifestyle or because I couldn't live the standards. We usually avoid conversations about the church, and simply agree to disagree on church issues. My LDS friends haven't been quite as understanding though. The idea that I could leave the church for happiness and honesty is totally foreign to them, and I guess in a way I understand their confusion. The beauty of it is, I now have friends who love me for who I am, and not because of my church membership.
Leaving the church and finding peace and happiness is one of the greatest accomplishments of my life…..so far.