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Desperately Living with Depression and Experiencing Mercy & Help

What does it look and feel like to live with the pain and confusion of a mental health diagnosis of bipolar disorder? Two Asian Americans open up about they’ve experienced mercy and help while getting through the shame of mental illness in Asian and American cultures, churches, and condemning voices that come inside (so annoying!)

Listen to this book talk about Christ in the Abyss: Cultivating Deep Faith Amid Depression and Despair, a new book by Dr. Jean Neely. Jean personally shares how she made it through those difficult seasons in her life with lots of help from family, friends, flatmates, and faith. This is a wide and gentle conversation on suffering and spirituality that is a part of all of our human experiences.

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Show Notes


Transcript

DJ Chuang: Welcome to this episode of the Erasing Shame podcast. I’m DJ Chuang, and I’m joined by Dr. Jean Neely, author of a brand-new book titled Christ in the Abyss: Cultivating Deep Faith Amid Depression and Despair. Thank you, Jean, for joining me for this book conversation.

Jean Neely: Thank you so much for the invitation, DJ. I’m delighted to be recording this with you.

DJ Chuang: We’re sharing this on the date the book is released, June 9, 2026. You can buy it on Amazon for convenient home delivery — free shipping if you’re on Amazon Prime — and also at the NavPress page, where you can download the first chapter for free.

To start our conversation here at Erasing Shame, the first question we often ask is: what comes to mind when you hear the word shame?

And I did notice you use the word “shame” several times in your book; I’m about two-thirds of the way through, and hopefully by the release date I’ll have finished the whole thing.

Jean Neely: Shame became a big issue for me — a major thing — when I first received my diagnosis of bipolar disorder at 15. Up to that point, I had just felt like a normal kid. I was busy with school, in the honors classes, so I sort of considered myself one of the smart kids who tried to do well. Once I got my diagnosis, I was the only person I knew personally who had a mental illness, and the notion of mental illness was loaded with so much shame for me.

At the time — this was the mid-90s — nobody was talking about it in the church. This was before anyone was advertising antidepressants, before people were talking openly about therapy and anxiety. So there was a huge stigma, and it came with this feeling of there’s something wrong with me. I’m not normal. I can’t live a normal life. And then all the faith struggles that came with depression and anxiety, especially when they were severe, made me feel like a bad Christian. I thought God must be so disappointed with me, because no other Christian I knew struggled with those kinds of things.

So it was a very long journey of shedding a lot of that shame, and that’s part of what’s behind the book. It took so long — even though my family has always been loving and supportive, and I’ve always had compassionate, understanding Christian friends. But something in the culture, and maybe something in my temperament, made me feel very ashamed of my diagnosis and my struggles.

DJ Chuang: I can relate to many parts of your story, which you’ve shared very openly and in detail in the book. We won’t have time to cover the whole thing — that’s why you have a book. But I’m glad to have met you in person a handful of times, and one of the things that connected us is that we share the same mental health diagnosis: bipolar.

Jean Neely: Type 2?

DJ Chuang: I actually have Type 2.

Jean Neely: Oh, I have Type 1 — but they’re similar.

DJ Chuang: Type 1 and Type 2 have a lot of similarities. I actually haven’t found a consensus on the difference. The DSM-5 has a textbook distinction, but none of us are textbook people.

Jean Neely: No, no. And the definitions — I’d say there’s a lot of guesswork in the diagnoses. There’s a spectrum of symptoms and severity. So yes, they’re very similar.

DJ Chuang: When I was diagnosed, I was 35. Looking back, I probably had symptoms of depression and mania throughout my teenage, high school, and college years. But because of shame, I never got diagnosed until I was in crisis.

Jean Neely: Wow. Yeah.

DJ Chuang: So what was that like for you? Being Asian American — for you, Korean; for me, Chinese — we grow up in a culture of shame, and having mental health challenges on top of that exponentially increases it. Describe a bit of how your family was supportive and helpful before your diagnosis, so that you were able to get help sooner rather than later.

Jean Neely: I’ve appreciated this more and more as I’ve gotten older and met people with very different family experiences. I didn’t realize at the time just how exceptional my parents were.

My dad was a pastor. He passed away last year. We had a slightly fraught relationship — he was very busy with church — but to his credit he was always so open-minded. From what I’ve heard from other people, he was very much like a mentor in a lot of supportive ways. My mom is a retired nurse, so she had familiarity with the medical world and was comfortable with all of that. They were both very educated.

Even before the diagnosis, they were unusual as Korean immigrant parents in that they never pressured me or my sister academically. We got to do what we felt like doing — I took piano, she took violin, we got to do dance and other things, because we wanted to. They never pressured us to study extra hard or to major in any specific thing. I don’t know any other Korean parents personally who were like that.

So they were always very supportive. When I started having symptoms, it was the mania that was very noticeable. I was probably depressed before the manic episodes, but I didn’t know it — I just thought I was really tired from school. I personally thought I was on a spiritual high; I was excited about Jesus. But my parents noticed a lot of unusual things, and they were the ones who insisted I go see a psychologist friend of theirs. It really helped that he was the husband of a good friend of my mom’s in the Korean community and also happened to be Christian. That psychologist referred us to a psychiatrist who also happened to be in the Korean Christian community in Orange County. Their connectedness in that community probably helped a lot. And they were always open-minded and compassionate. They never blamed me for being vulnerable or being too emotional. They were always very understanding.

DJ Chuang: You’re very blessed. And for some reason — I can’t fully explain it — the Christian church, and the Asian American and Korean American church, has a reputation for being uncomfortable, silent, even shaming about mental health struggles. And yet Christians and non-Christians alike are just as human. Statistics say 20 to 25 percent of people struggle with mental health challenges, so Christians struggle just as much. We’re all just trying to get through life.

We have listeners and viewers here at Erasing Shame who aren’t Christian, and faith and spirituality have been a very important and helpful ingredient in your healing and growth. So what would you say to the non-Christians listening in who aren’t sure about their faith, or who have a different faith?

Jean Neely: I’d say that whether you ascribe to a certain faith or not, I think we’re all spiritual beings, and we all have soul longings. There may be people from other faiths who believe in a divine being, and there’s something so reassuring to our souls in knowing there’s goodness and mercy from God — from whoever we believe God to be. There’s a profoundly healing aspect to knowing we have mercy from God, whatever faith tradition you’re coming from. That was something that was hard for me to believe for a long time. I thought maybe I was disqualified from mercy because my faith wasn’t strong enough, because I was always anxious or depressed.

Something I’ve been learning more in recent years is that there are similar contemplative traditions across faiths — the Sufi tradition among Muslims, meditation in Buddhism, and Christian contemplative spirituality. Prayer has been so helpful and grounding for me. Even though we come at it slightly differently, there are shared values, experiences, and wisdom we can share across faiths.

DJ Chuang: That’s wonderful. One thing I’ve noticed about your book is how gracious and gentle you are in expressing your faith — it’s expressed in a way that people of different faiths can relate to on a human level, because we’re all spiritual beings. Even though we may have different faiths, we can relate on that intangible heart and soul level, along with the personal story you unpack.

Most of your book is about your personal and spiritual journey. I think both of us have experienced certain Christian circles that are uncomfortable and even resistant to medicine, psychology, and especially psychiatry — to human ways of dealing with our mental health challenges. You had a better-than-average experience in some Christian community where you were supported. And in the chapter I was just reading, you also experienced a lot of grace and mercy from people who weren’t Christian during your time in France. Can you share a bit about that?

Jean Neely: That was such a healing experience for me, because I grew up pretty sheltered in the church, in a conservative faith circle. It never felt punitive or legalistic — it wasn’t that — but there was a lot of devotional fervor and a constant striving to do our best for God, to have undivided hearts for God. So I always felt a little guilty for not trying hard enough, not doing enough, maybe not serving enough, not being as outgoing as some of my Christian friends. And partly because I didn’t know other Christians who struggled with a similar diagnosis or serious depression, I really thought I was supposed to get over bipolar, get over my depression, to be a better Christian.

When I was in France the first time — I spent three years there after college — my first year was the first time in my life I wasn’t surrounded by people of similar faith. Even the Christians I met had different backgrounds and influences than I did; it wasn’t the U.S. evangelical mindset. And the people I worked with, taught, and met in the city were mostly nominal Catholics or just secular, not spiritual at all. And yet they were so welcoming and so kind.

I was living with two other young women, also recent college grads. I was teaching English; they were teaching Spanish and German. We became great friends and they were so supportive. What was really surprising to me was that I’d gone over there — and you read about this — in my first year off of medication ever since my diagnosis, because again, I thought I was supposed to outgrow this. I thought that to be a normal, healthy adult I had to do life without all this psychological help.

So I ended up having major episodes. The depression started early on, but that’s a little easier to hide because I can be highly functional — I was just exhausted all the time. Then the manic episode that winter is when everything became public. Before then, I hadn’t told anyone at the school about my condition, because it was before anyone was talking about mental health. I really thought that if the school found out — I was there as a Fulbright teaching assistant — the Fulbright program would send me home. I thought there was no way they’d think I was okay to do this. So I didn’t tell anyone except my two flatmates. What I told them was, “I’ve had these experiences in the past. It probably won’t be an issue, but if you notice anything unusual, maybe encourage me to see someone.” Because I thought I could handle it.

What happened — and I tell this in that chapter — is that I had a very noticeable manic episode. My supervisors, the principal and vice principal, found out, and I couldn’t continue teaching for a time because the episode was so pronounced and I needed assistance. I was in a foreign country and didn’t know about the services. The vice principal referred me to a local psychologist, who referred me to a psychiatrist. My flatmates and colleagues took me to appointments and took care of me when I was manic and still not totally well.

Once my colleagues found out, I was so afraid people would think I was crazy or weird because of this diagnosis. But everyone was surprisingly warm and caring. Their response was more surprise that I was so ashamed of it, and surprise that I found it so problematic to take medication.

DJ Chuang: So other people were surprised by their own reaction —

Jean Neely: Yes — I was surprised by their surprise. I was surprised they were so compassionate. I don’t know that this would have been the case anywhere in France, or with any community — but it was the case with that community, that year, where I was. And I was very grateful.

What’s interesting is that for years I didn’t consider it as care from God, because I thought God primarily worked through Christians, and these were mostly non-Christian friends. It wasn’t until years later, looking back at my journals, that I thought, Wow, I was surrounded by grace that year. So much grace. And it can come from non-Christians. They were actually helpful in ways the church was not necessarily helpful at the time, because there wasn’t this scrupulous self-inspection all the time. There was a sense of: You’re allowed to be human. I don’t know why you’re not okay with being human.

DJ Chuang: Wow. I’m glad you were able to experience grace from all kinds of people. We believe God works in all kinds of ways through all kinds of people, not only through religious boxes. And as we receive all of that — in spiritual, faithful, and human ways — we actually become more human, we become healthy, and our faith becomes richer.

The reality, though, is that a good number of Christians lose their faith when they go through suffering. Suffering can be short-term — what they call acute — because of grief, loss, or trauma. But when it comes to mental health, for many of us it’s a lifelong journey, and that can be frustrating. For us as people with bipolar, probably the greatest temptation is to get off our meds. And secondly, we don’t let enough people in to notice when something’s off. I’m so glad you’ve come to a place where you’re staying on your meds and inviting people to speak into your life. Those are two big decisions, and I know you didn’t come to them right away.

So what would you say to people who lose their faith because of the reality of life and suffering, particularly mental health?

Jean Neely: It’s so, so tough. My first thought is that I completely understand how that can happen, because there are times when I feel like I cannot have faith. When you’re in really severe depression, all your senses are clouded and your perspective is skewed. Sometimes it’s so bad that I can’t even conceive of God being real — whether there’s anything real beyond this physical space and my feeling really crappy. And even when it’s not that severe, it’s so hard to believe God is good, because you think, How could a good God let people go through this? I think about not just mental illness but so much long-lasting suffering that’s devastating for people.

As Christians, sometimes we expect people to have a superhuman capacity for strong faith. But I’ve come to believe that God is a lot more understanding about our humanity than I tended to think.

Some of what can help is connecting with community, even when I feel horrible — even when I feel like I’ve lost my faith or am losing it. There were many times over the years when I doubted my own prayers: Is God even listening? Is my faith strong enough? So I’d ask other people to pray for me, because I had more faith in their prayers — and there’s nothing wrong with that.

I’ve also come to feel that there will be times when our faith feels like it’s falling apart. If we shift our perspective and consider that not as the end of faith but as part of the faith journey — sometimes you feel like you lose your faith, sometimes it feels completely gone — and if we can imagine that God’s mercy still continues through that, that can be a comfort. Very little depends on the strength of my faith, and that’s something to hold on to. But if it feels like it’s falling apart, let yourself go through that and accept that this is part of being human too. As Christians, we don’t have special access to truth or super-faith all the time. We’re just as human as everyone else. We get things wrong, we have ailments like everyone else, and I really believe there’s mercy through all of it.

DJ Chuang: Thank you for sharing that. I hope the way you’re opening your life — being human, living with bipolar, and holding on to your faith — will be an inspiration and help to others as they wrestle with their own questions and doubts. It doesn’t seem to be presented that way from the pulpit, so a human story really helps flesh out a better picture of what faith can look like.

Speaking of churches — what can churches do better to create places of psychological safety, to be more gentle, kind, and welcoming of those who struggle with mental health?

Jean Neely: I think we’ve gotten better over time. There’s more awareness among pastors and Christian leaders that mental health is a real thing — not just a spiritual problem. But I think we could talk more about the difficult parts of life, and acknowledge that faith is not always a sunny journey. A lot of us have struggles that last very long seasons, or lifetimes, and that’s not a sign that something is wrong — it’s just part of being human. So addressing more of the whole spectrum of human experience from the pulpit could help.

I also think a lot of us — maybe my generation more than this one — have internalized a harsh image of God, even though we learned about grace. So addressing and healing that inner image of God, and talking about integrating our whole lives — we’re not purely spiritual beings — could help. A lot of our faith is shaped by our experiences and our wounds, and those are things we all need to address as we grow. So, being more holistic.

DJ Chuang: Those are good words. Unfortunately, because of limited time in a church program, many churches only focus on the theological or dogmatic — and that’s only a slice of the pie of what it means to be human. When we get the experiential side of our faith, that really helps it come alive and helps us understand who God is. In fact, Jesus came as a human to help us experience what God is like, and how he pours out grace and mercy.

I think that resonates with the title you came to: Christ in the Abyss. Is there more you’d like to say about the title? It’s really unique.

Jean Neely: That came to me a couple of chapters into writing, while I was trying to find an arc for the book. It occurred to me that what I’d often tell my friends, when I was really depressed, was that I felt like I was sitting alone on the bottom of the ocean floor — cut off from the rest of the world, in this very shadowy, high-pressure place. And what I’ve discovered over time is that I’m really not alone there: Christ is there. For so long I believed I wasn’t supposed to be there — that I was supposed to be in the sunny meadows with everyone else. A lot of my journey has been growing to accept: It’s okay to be here in the abyss, and Christ is here. So that’s partly where the title came from.

DJ Chuang: That’s so good. One of the painful parts for me, when I go through seasons of darkness and despair, is feeling totally alone, like no one can understand me. That’s a really painful place to be. It’s so good that we have faith in a Christ who’s with us — and that we can have faith and support from real people who won’t judge us, shame us, or cut us off when we’re going through those hard times.

So, personally — how have you been doing this past year, as you’ve finished the book and prepared for its release? How are you managing your own mental health?

Jean Neely: It is busy. I teach part-time — writing and literature — and that’s been a joy that keeps me grounded. Structure in my schedule really helps. I love interacting with college students, so giving a regular portion of my day to that is a stabilizing thing. I still take my meds every day, and I see a good therapist, which is always helpful.

I also see a spiritual director once a month — I’ve been seeing her for 14 years now, and she’s been so significant in helping me heal from a lot of the shame related to my view of God. And I try to exercise regularly, all the regular things. I’m sometimes not good at getting regular sleep, because I stay up late watching Korean dramas. But a key thing is that I stay really connected with community. I have several friends I text almost daily — partly necessary because I freak out almost daily about little things, and it’s so helpful to have calm, loving people speak back to my nerves, fears, and a lot of my self-critique. That’s a major thing — probably a lifelong thing for me. One of the things my friends tell me regularly is, “Be nice to Jean,” because I’m often so self-critical.

DJ Chuang: Wonderful. It sounds like a great blend of tools and resources that you’re leaning into instead of withdrawing from. I can very much relate to the self-condemning voice that somehow seeped into my DNA and life experience. It’s still an ongoing challenge for me to keep it at bay with healthy practices — physically, spiritually, and relationally. On the physical side, something I just started this past October is playing pickleball.

Jean Neely: Oh, cool. I’ve heard such great things — I’m really tempted. I just haven’t been out there yet, but I’m going to try it sometime.

DJ Chuang: Maybe we can create an opportunity for that when I come your way.

Jean Neely: That would be fun.

DJ Chuang: It’s really easy to learn, it’s fun, it’s physical, and it just adds more health to my life and others’ as well.

Jean Neely: Oh, I should do that.

DJ Chuang: Well, how are you feeling now? Your book is released June 9, 2026. What do you have planned, and what else can we look forward to?

Jean Neely: I’m nervous, which is normal for me. As I told you, I love to write, and public speaking is a little scarier for me. So as I do these podcasts, interviews, and book talks, I’ll be stepping out of my comfort zone. But it’s also really exciting, because I finished writing it two years ago — so I feel like, finally, it’s here, and I finally get to talk with people about it. I’m mostly looking forward to conversations like this — one-on-one conversations where I can talk with more people about real-life things.

DJ Chuang: Thank you for opening your life and opening this new chapter through your book and through your Substack. I’m grateful you’re opening this conversation to others. How can people subscribe to your Substack — what’s the URL?

Jean Neely: It’s mercyinthedeep.substack.com.

DJ Chuang: Thank you for joining me on this conversation. Godspeed to your future as this book helps more and more people.

Jean Neely: Thank you, DJ. Thanks for having me.

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