I was Delivered from Mental Illnesses by the Power of the Holy Spirit & I'm Afraid to Talk about It

Why getting sold out for Jesus made me question my career as a therapist

I’d like to preface this by saying I have had to resist so many lies from the enemy and surrender my fear of man to write this story. Thoughts like these kept creeping into my mind:

• You’ll hurt someone’s feelings who hasn’t been set free from mental illnesses.

• They’ll think you’re crazy.

• They’ll think you’re lying.

• What if you offend people who don’t believe in being freed from mental illness and they misinterpret your story and wrongfully assume that you think they’re not “real” Christians?

Angelamarie Scafidi, podcast host of Heaven and Healing, and ex-New Age Spiritualist said it well. There is stigma in the church about freedom in Christ. The Lord reminded me, it is not my job to convince anyone of anything. But as a steward of all that He’s given me, including my freedom, it is my job to share what He did and give Him glory.

Some of you might be able to relate to growing up in chronic dysfunction, “complex trauma” we’d call it in my line of work. I’m a mental health counselor AKA a therapist and I have given over 100 public speaking engagements in Florida, the United States, and one time internationally, sharing my story and discussing mental health, mental illness, suicide awareness, and recovery. In “complex trauma”, there wasn’t just one incident of trauma or two, but trauma was a way of life on a daily, weekly, monthly, yearly basis. For me, it happened at home, from neighborhood kids, from getting bullied at school. There was no escape, no way out. And naturally, mental health conditions followed as a result.

Even as I write this, vulnerability and potential embarrassment are trying to hold me back. But I have to remind myself, my testimony is not one to be ashamed of. It is a story written by God to bring Him glory, one that makes us look to Jesus and say, “Look what He did!” It is one that makes me look at Jesus and ask, Did I really give my life to Christ? Or did He just rescue me.

Disclaimer: I will not discuss specific traumas and abuse or identify who those individuals are simply because I no longer blame them for sinning against me. It is my personal conviction that to identify those individuals and their sin, no matter how mean, cruel, or heinous, would be disrespectful and unloving. I do not want to throw them under the bus. They were never the enemy. Satan is our enemy. He was the one oppressing them. He was the puppet master behind it all. I pray for all the people who have hurt or abused me that they may experience Christ.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 6:12

“Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, ‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’” Ephesians 5:11-14

 ^“And Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’” Luke 23:34

The first time I experienced feeling what I know now was depression, I remember staring out through the pre-school playground bars. I was 4 years old. The first time I considered taking my own life by suicide, I was maybe 5 or 6 years old. Small enough that you need to use a step stool and pull yourself up with your knee to the kitchen counter to reach the knives.

The first time I had a panic attack was in the second grade. I remember sitting in the clinic with a paper bag over my mouth that I was told to breathe into. I missed lunch that day.

When I was 12 years old, I started asking if I could talk to someone. I could tell I was different than the other kids. They seemed…well…happy. Genuinely happy. And all I ever thought about was death. All I ever felt was melancholy. I self-harmed for the first time.

When I was 15 years old, a classmate pointed out that I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, and I never wanted to be touched. I had never known what it was like to sleep well. I started to get nightmares at least once a week, maybe every other week on a good month. I was no longer present, but instead numbly existed from one day to the next in a constant state of dissociation. I had zero self-esteem and was filled with self-hatred. Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) symptoms were beginning to show themselves.

By the time I was 18 years old in my freshman year of college, I was in the thick of an eating disorder, binging and purging food every day, multiple times a day, crushingly insecure and obsessive about my body and weight. I was so debilitatingly anxious, I felt like I couldn’t function.

The first time I attempted suicide was in high school (a pathetic attempt that I now know would never have worked). Then again when I was 19 years old and again at 21 years old. Never planned, but always during some kind of mental breakdown. If you’re reading this and you personally knew me at that time, this might come as a shock. I was always so embarrassed to have survived an attempt, especially as someone who was already working in the mental health field and pursuing a higher education to become a therapist. One of my abusers even screamed in my face that I was not equipped to help the people who were suffering as I was.

I couldn’t bear the shame of someone knowing I was just as broken and sick as the people I wanted to help. I didn’t even tell my best friends. I also didn’t want anyone’s help, nor would I have known how to receive it if someone tried. Can you believe the enemy? That he would try to lure someone to death, then point the finger at them and fill them with shame so they isolate themselves? He had me right where he wanted me. But God is sovereign. Jesus has the final authority. Praise Him. I was never truly alone.

I remember one time, in the midst of deep dark depressive episode, one that makes you call out sick at work, steals your appetite, and drowns you in suicidal thoughts, one of my close friends managed to get me out of my house. We sat in the car parked on the side of the street.

“Do you think you’ll ever get better?” He asked.

I sighed. “No.”

I had never experienced life without pain, suffering, and darkness. I felt like a sick dog who had never known health. Oh dear, my lack of faith. I couldn’t even imagine a life not plagued by mental illness, let alone believe I could be set free from it.

Reader, I cannot promise you that Jesus will free you of all your afflictions. I can only share what happened to me. But we can rejoice that any freedom Jesus does in our lives is a gift, a miracle. And I feel the Holy Spirit prompt me to write this: I urge you as you read this story to enter in with a humble heart. I have learned the hard way even after I became sold out for Jesus, that pride (me thinking that I’m a “better Christian” than someone else, or that I’m a strong believer and follower of Jesus just because I do xyz for God) was a stumbling block in my walk of faith, and a barrier from letting me walk in true freedom from other strongholds the enemy placed in my life.

“Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” Matthew 23:12

Throughout my twenties, I did it. I learned how to live a productive life with mental illnesses. I graduated with a Master of Science in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. I had even been given the opportunity to do public speaking for mental health. I committed myself to going to therapy and “living in recovery” as they say. I lived my life doing what a lot of self-help books tell you to do. And I went to church regularly and had been in community groups. I even led a Bible study once and was serving on my church’s worship team (Perhaps I’ll share that part of my testimony, how God found me, in another post one day). The Lord was calling me into a deeper relationship with Him. But I wasn’t all in. I thought I was saved. But I was lukewarm at best.

I had one foot in the world and one foot in church. I knew about Jesus, but I didn’t know Him. And I probably would’ve gotten defensive with anyone who tried to tell me that at the time. Oh dear, that pride again. I believed Jesus was God, but He was not Lord of my life (and James 2:19 says that even the demons believe). I had Bible verses memorized, even ones that brought me to tears, but I never sat down to read the Bible like my life and my soul depended on it. I cried out to Him for help often, but I still turned my back against Him every week while I lived in sin. I listened to worship music on Sunday morning and popular worldly music that glorified sadness, sex, drugs, or anger on other days of the week.

In my past I had dabbled in tarot card reading, Buddhist meditations, and other New Age practices and I never repented for them. I believed wholeheartedly that Jesus was the reason why I wasn’t dead, but the idols of men, relationships, lust, sex, alcohol and drunkenness, and even therapy and writing/journaling sat on the throne of my heart. All things I turned to for comfort, happiness, validation, peace, and love before I turned to the face of my Father or the wounded hands and feet of my Savior. I had a white knuckled grip around those idols, the things of this world, some much more than others, but only a soft hand outstretched to Jesus.

There were so many lies from Satan about myself that I had come into agreement with. So many open portals from unrepented sin, habitual sin, and identifying with anything other than being a child of God that were leading demons straight to me. I didn’t see it that way at the time. My life was a playground for the enemy, a battleground for my soul, and I was losing.

The worship team one Sunday was singing Refiner by Maverick City Music and Steffany Gretzinger. I remember our worship leader said to us very seriously before going on stage, “This is a dangerous song. If you don’t believe these lyrics, don’t sing them.” He even stopped worship to tell the congregation that too. But I’ve always been up for a challenge. So, I sang my heart out.

You’re a fire
The Refiner
I wanna be consumed

I wanna be tried by fire
Purified
You take whatever You desire
Lord, here’s my life

A couple weeks later I was at a church service where the pastor was really getting worked up. He was sweating, spitting, practically yelling at us regarding the story in John 8 about the woman found in adultery, the one who Jesus saved from being stoned to death when He said, “He who is without sin, cast the first stone.” John 8:7.

“Jesus stood up and said to her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?’  She said, ‘No one, Lord.’ And Jesus said, ‘Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.’” John 8:10-11

“WHATEVER YOUR SIN IS, JESUS IS TELLING YOU TO GO, AND SIN NO MORE! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!” the pastor yelled over the microphone.

Conviction pierced my chest. The Holy Spirit was calling me out for all my habitual sin and unrepented sin, the strongest of all my idols, particularly that of lust, sex, men, and relationships. The pastor told us to get a piece of paper and pen and talk to God. I have that paper saved to this day. And I remember putting my foot down with God.

“No, God. I don’t want to give it up. I won’t do it.”

The Lord, in His kindness, spoke directly into the quiet of my mind. I felt Him question me.

Why?

“Because,” I prayed, “it makes me feel empowered. And it redeems my story. I have been abused, neglected, unloved, and bullied, taken advantage of, and defiled by boys and men. I get to choose how to live my life and what happens to my body now. And it makes me feel loved!” The Lord responded so quickly, He nearly interrupted me.

Don’t you know that I AM the one who is the most powerful? Don’t you know that I AM the Redeemer? I AM the only one who can redeem your story. Don’t you know that My love for you is the greatest love there is.

Reader, I crumbled that the Almighty God was speaking to me. I was not controlling this voice in my head. I was stunned into silence. What rebuttal could I conjure to argue with God?

One of my Christian friends had given me the book Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. A fiction story based off of the story in the Bible about Hosea and Gomer. It’s an inch thick and I practically inhaled it in three days. I remember being in my bedroom reading over and over the word “Beloved”, the name that God calls the main character, Angel. Angel’s story of abandonment, abuse, and defilement left her cold, numb, and finding comfort in sin. So comfortable she was terrified to live any other way. She had bought in to the enemy’s lies. Not realizing Jesus had already bought her with His blood. And I remember the Holy Spirit lifted the scales from my eyes and God spoke again.

Katie, that’s you. I love you. I died for you. You are My beloved.

Reader, it was like I finally had ears to hear. Clarity washed over me. I had lived in sin and therefore had turned my back on God. On Jesus. Who loved me, who was tortured and killed for me. Me? I didn’t deserve it. A godly grief for my sinful nature fell over me. I realized what I had done. I curled over in my bed, knees bent, and wept audibly, painfully, clutching my chest, my face growing hot and wet with tears.

And I repented like I had never repented before.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered out loud over and over again amidst my weeping. And I meant it.

The next day I woke up and for the first time in my life, I was hungry for only two things: God’s Word and God’s presence. From that day forward, I started my day by going on an hour long walk through my neighborhood to pray, to talk to God, and to listen to what He had to say. Then I’d come home and read the Bible. All before going to work. I didn’t read a devotional or a Bible study plan like I had done many times before, just the pure, raw Bible. Straight from the tap. I started in the first book of the New Testament, Matthew. And I never stopped.

Reader, from that day on. I was different. I thought differently, I spoke differently. I didn’t cuss anymore. I didn’t desire the things I desired before. I had His desires. I started seeing the word “obedience” everywhere, and I knew God was talking to me.

^“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” 2 Corinthians 5:17

I didn’t hang out in the same places in town anymore or want to hang out with most of my non-Christian friends. Sure, I still cared about them, but I felt God calling me to surround myself with Himself, with fellow believers. Not lukewarm believers, but real God fearing, rejoicing, followers of Jesus. I even broke up with my boyfriend at the time. He wasn’t sold out for Jesus and Christ was not the center of our relationship. As someone who historically only drank to get tipsy or drunk and have “fun”, I didn’t desire that anymore either. In fact, the thought of being intoxicated disgusted me.

This period of time was so painful, Reader. Filled with lots of prayer and weeping on my knees. So much grief in letting go of the people I cared for or even idolized. The Lord was yanking my idols out of my hands, everything I had ever used to survive all my pain from this sin-cursed world. The discomfort, the loss, the heartbreak was emotionally agonizing some days. But I knew I had to die to myself.

“Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there.” Galatians 5:24-25 

“Then he said to them all: ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will save it.” Luke 9:23-24

God dropped the words “Seek first” into my spirit.

Seek first? What does that mean, God? I had no idea. So, I did what any 21st century Christian would do. I Googled it. And I was awestruck that a Bible verse popped up in the search results.

 ^“But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” Matthew 6:33

It is the verse that ends Jesus’ longest monologue in the gospels, that wraps up His spiel about not being anxious about our lives.

What is the kingdom of God? What is righteousness? I asked God. Well, a kingdom is made up of a king and the people. And righteousness is a way of life. It’s the directions in the Bible that God gives us so we know how to live and not sin. Okay, God. I’ll do it. My life is not mine, but Yours. Not my will, but Your will be done. I surrender.

I experienced Revival.

When the Lord called me to get baptized during that season of Revival

All I wanted after that was Jesus. I wanted to seek His face. I wanted to be showered in His presence. I started praying ceaselessly throughout the day. I never stopped being hungry for the Word, reading my Bible every day like it I’d starve without it. I stopped identifying with anything other than being a child of God, and in doing so, I came out of agreement with being someone who struggled with mental health and a traumatic history.

And Reader, I don’t know how else to say this. But I never experienced depression, suicidal thoughts, generalized anxiety, panic attacks, flashbacks, disordered eating, anorexia, and bulimia, ever again. Ever again. This was almost three years ago. I wasn’t even asking to be healed. He just healed me. I think I always anticipated that I would get “triggered” as they say, and my mental health issues would return. But they didn’t. Chains were broken. Demons fled. I was free. Praise God.

As someone who is trained in working with individuals with complex trauma and a history of mental health issues, this story doesn’t make sense. It goes against my training. The world (the enemy) tells us to “trust the process”, that we can “live in recovery”. But what if Jesus is telling you that He loves you, He wants you to love Him, to seek Him like your life and soul depend on it because they do, that you don’t have to live in recovery. You can live in freedom.

I’ve done over 100 speaking engagements since 2017. Honestly, I stopped keeping track. And in the last few years, I’ve only done three. How am I supposed to share my story at these secular conferences and events? It is a question I still bring to the Lord. I used to represent the face of “living in recovery”. I was the girl on stage who told you that if you just pursue wellness, do xyz for your mental health, you’ll live well. That triggers happen and when they do, cut yourself some slack, that’s normal! And if you try hard enough, you’ll live a productive life and be just like me. Ew, it makes me grimace. How do I get on stage now, in places that don’t want you to discuss faith or religion, and say, “Um…well…do you believe in Jesus? Have you heard of repentance? Or spiritual warfare?”

Likewise, I started to ask God, Should I even be a therapist? How do You expect me to work with clients living with mental illness or who are in recovery now? All I can do is teach them how to cope with demons.

Stephanie Ike, an author, podcaster, and speaker, said on the Girls Gone Bible podcast that psychology gives us language to describe what is happening in the spiritual realm. All that time, I was in the grips of the enemy. (But perhaps we’ll save the topic of casting out demons for another time. Boy, do I have some stories of more deliverance for you.)

“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” James 4:7

I am still bringing my questions to the Lord, but for now He is showing me that as a therapist, I can still be His hands and feet. There is still immense value in walking alongside someone in grief, in being the first person in someone’s life who cares about how they feel and what they have to say, in being the first relationship in someone’s life that is safe and secure. Essentially, in being present, in showing someone compassion, in giving someone the space to express, to feel, and displaying a hope for their future when they struggle to see it for themselves.

And Reader, please know, that I don’t have all the answers. Stories of deliverance are often so unique. I don’t fully know why many of us struggle with mental health or mental illness the way that we do or have. I wish the equation was that simple. But what I do know is the Lord is after our hearts. His timing is so much different than mere man’s. His ways, indeed, higher than ours.

Jesus asked questions hundreds of more times than He answered them. Perhaps I’ll leave you with some questions I wished someone had asked me.

Have you repented of all your sins? I didn’t. Have you asked the Lord to reveal to you any habitual sin that is still present in your life? Any idols? I never did. Have you identified or at least come into agreement with any title or affliction the enemy has placed over you, instead of clinging to your only identity being found in Christ Jesus?

But most importantly Reader, do you know that Jesus loves you? He loves you. He had you on His mind when He went to the cross that day.

And if you know He loves you, what’s stopping you from going all in? What’s stopping you from getting sold out for Jesus, from giving your whole life to Him?

Repentance leads to Revival. Gosh I wish I knew that sooner, but His timing is always perfect.

God bless you, friends.

Katie Donohue Tona

And if you liked this post, you might also like:

When Jesus Heals Your Chronic Pain and Illness

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