Recently, I shared a post on Facebook that appeared on a page I follow. The post was a series of simple, yet clever comic panes depicting how depression can affect an individual.
As someone who has been diagnosed with depression, I honestly thought nothing of it until I received a few, for lack of a softer word, shocking messages from friends reacting to the post. The consensus was that something must have happened, that something was wrong with me.
Although I cherish the concern, the truth is that I am perfectly fine. I am perfectly fine, and I am struggling with depression.
Yes, the "and" was intentional.
I guess, since I've dealt with it for so long, understanding how depression works is something I take for granted. It's human nature to seek the source of our problems with the hopes of solving them, and therein lies the fundamental issue with the concept.
As hard as it may be to grasp, chronic depression doesn't derive from tragedy. Nothing has to "happen" for it to take over.
That's not to say there aren't triggers that can be the cause. But, in general, searching for causation is a dead end, and I think that's what frustrates people who don't commonly struggle with it. Unfortunately, depression is just as difficult to explain as it is to comprehend, which is why the instinctive response it to hide it.
Depression is like an ache that creeps into our bones and roots itself in the marrow. It resides in the hollow places within us that we can't explain. It echoes in our heads like white noise drowning out logic. Depression is physical and it's mental. It can last seconds, or it can last days. The hardest part about depression is that even those of us who have it really don't understand it.
"What's wrong?" is a vastly intimidating question to someone with depression because, while we are well aware that "I don't know" isn't a socially acceptable response, it is, in most cases, all we have to offer.
As a Christian, things become further complicated for me when trying to get others to understand. "You just need to give it to God" is a favorite response followed closely by "Have you tried praying about it?" Yes, I have tried praying (quite a bit) about it, and after beating myself up over it for a long time, I've come to the conclusion that my depression has no correlation whatsoever to my faith or lack thereof.
In other words, Christians who struggle with depression are not any less of a child of God than those who don't, and if someone tells you otherwise, punch them in the face. Don't really do that...well, only if you want to.
But in all seriousness, that theology is twisted and baseless and set me back quite a bit in my personal struggles. 1 Peter 5:6-7 says, "Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him, for he cares for you."
I must've missed the part where God said, "Humble yourselves, therefore, that ye may be without sadness, anxiety, fear, and/or any combination of the three forever and ever. Amen."
I don't know what scripture everyone else is reading, but "Your anxiety" sounds a lot like God is acknowledging that you will struggle. He didn't intend for depression to be exclusive to non-believers, and He certainly didn't promise immunity from the hardships of life. Don't get me wrong; there is, indeed, power in prayer, and I have, without question, felt the relief and peace of spirit because of that.
However, to insinuate that something as overarching and common as depression is an indication of a lack of faith in God is simply ignorant.
As difficult as that is to believe for those of us who frequently experience it, there's no shame in seeking help. The best medicine is, truthfully, just talking it out, whether that's with God in prayer or with a doctor or friends and family.
There is no pot of gold at the end of a monochromatic rainbow awaiting discovery, no cure in a laboratory somewhere. We're simply wired to be sad sometimes. And as weird as it is, that's okay.
Just realize that there's not something inherently wrong with you, and if you're lucky enough to never have experienced depression, understand that being there for someone who is struggling is the absolute greatest thing you can do for them.
For such a complicated thing like depression, the solution is beautifully simple.
We just need love.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Friday, June 19, 2015
Thursday, January 15, 2015
An Open Letter to the World
Sometimes, an apology is the only, albeit difficult solution. That being said, I am sorry, truly and deeply sorry.
I'm sorry that we've allowed stereotypes to shape our views in ways we always said we wouldn't. I'm sorry we have become a people synonymous with "judgmental," with "hypocritical," with "hateful."
I'm sorry that we've embraced a tainted culture and that our congregations distort scripture under the guidance of flawed leaders. I'm sorry that we have become an inward-focused, sycophantic clique under those very same leaders who are more concerned with their social status than the well-being of their fellow man.
I'm sorry that we don't practice what we preach, that we knowingly go against our own doctrine. I'm sorry that we've discounted and undermined the message of our Savior to the point where no one wants it anymore, to where you don't want it anymore. I'm sorry that we've allowed the unthinkable to happen; we've allowed a life-giving Hope to become something undesirable to those who need it most.
I'm not going to make excuses for our actions or lean against the cosmic crutch of "human nature" to absolve our people of the guilt we should feel for our actions. If darkness is the absence of light, then we have succumbed to that void, embraced its chill, and fallen silent and still to its power. The light that should shine through us has been dimmed and dulled to a grain-sized glimmer of a reflection of a spark beneath layers of inexcusable behavior.
We have created a religious autocracy to replace our community of prayer, and in doing so, we've dripped poison into the remedy we were created to be. Worse, we've put the poison in an attractive glass, filled it to the brim, and tipped it against the lips of your children, our children, our future.
We're more focused on trying to make sin a quantifiable equation to be multiplied and added and ranked than we are introducing people to the One who takes sin away, the eternal minus sign. We've become sin-seeking missiles trained on sexuality and abortion and whatever hot button the conservative agenda is currently pushing. We're trained to obliterate our targets rather than to love them.
We've perpetuated a sickness in the Middle East with the wrongful damnation of a people as a whole rather than the radicals that besmirch their existence, enforcing their doctrine through violence and a deep, unrelenting hatred of their own. We've neglected to aid a hurting people, we've neglected to mourn their dead, and our knees have yet to hit the floor in prayer for their relief.
We've aided in the erection of walls segregating faces of our brothers and sisters based on their complexion. These walls stretch higher everyday, the mortar thickening at the expense of unborn children whose tiny, undeveloped ears have already been exposed to gunshots echoing off the walls of their mothers' wombs, echoes of an unfounded hatred.
And it runs deeper than black versus white, east versus west, "religious" versus secular. There is an infection, a curse, an evil in the lifeblood of our people that has left us vulnerable to the petrification of our hearts. Where believers once met the world with unyielding love and a message of unprejudiced hope, they now cling to cold, bitter stone.
As sad as it is, rarely do Christians represent the former half of their title. So, for what it's worth, I am truly and deeply sorry.
If you don't take anything else away from this apology, please don't look to us. We will only fail you.
Look to Him.
I'm sorry that we've allowed stereotypes to shape our views in ways we always said we wouldn't. I'm sorry we have become a people synonymous with "judgmental," with "hypocritical," with "hateful."
I'm sorry that we've embraced a tainted culture and that our congregations distort scripture under the guidance of flawed leaders. I'm sorry that we have become an inward-focused, sycophantic clique under those very same leaders who are more concerned with their social status than the well-being of their fellow man.
I'm sorry that we don't practice what we preach, that we knowingly go against our own doctrine. I'm sorry that we've discounted and undermined the message of our Savior to the point where no one wants it anymore, to where you don't want it anymore. I'm sorry that we've allowed the unthinkable to happen; we've allowed a life-giving Hope to become something undesirable to those who need it most.
I'm not going to make excuses for our actions or lean against the cosmic crutch of "human nature" to absolve our people of the guilt we should feel for our actions. If darkness is the absence of light, then we have succumbed to that void, embraced its chill, and fallen silent and still to its power. The light that should shine through us has been dimmed and dulled to a grain-sized glimmer of a reflection of a spark beneath layers of inexcusable behavior.
We have created a religious autocracy to replace our community of prayer, and in doing so, we've dripped poison into the remedy we were created to be. Worse, we've put the poison in an attractive glass, filled it to the brim, and tipped it against the lips of your children, our children, our future.
We're more focused on trying to make sin a quantifiable equation to be multiplied and added and ranked than we are introducing people to the One who takes sin away, the eternal minus sign. We've become sin-seeking missiles trained on sexuality and abortion and whatever hot button the conservative agenda is currently pushing. We're trained to obliterate our targets rather than to love them.
We've perpetuated a sickness in the Middle East with the wrongful damnation of a people as a whole rather than the radicals that besmirch their existence, enforcing their doctrine through violence and a deep, unrelenting hatred of their own. We've neglected to aid a hurting people, we've neglected to mourn their dead, and our knees have yet to hit the floor in prayer for their relief.
We've aided in the erection of walls segregating faces of our brothers and sisters based on their complexion. These walls stretch higher everyday, the mortar thickening at the expense of unborn children whose tiny, undeveloped ears have already been exposed to gunshots echoing off the walls of their mothers' wombs, echoes of an unfounded hatred.
And it runs deeper than black versus white, east versus west, "religious" versus secular. There is an infection, a curse, an evil in the lifeblood of our people that has left us vulnerable to the petrification of our hearts. Where believers once met the world with unyielding love and a message of unprejudiced hope, they now cling to cold, bitter stone.
As sad as it is, rarely do Christians represent the former half of their title. So, for what it's worth, I am truly and deeply sorry.
If you don't take anything else away from this apology, please don't look to us. We will only fail you.
Look to Him.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Married Things: Day 25
We're officially three and a half weeks into this glorious union that Molly and I have entered, and I've gotta say, things have been pretty awesome. We've settled into our house, the hubub surrounding our new status is dwindling, and things have finally slowed down a little bit.
2. She isn't going to know/have the ability to do all the things you can do. Take weedeating, for instance. She may not understand why weedeating is necessary. You might have to explain that slamming the lawnmower into the side of the house won't gently cut the excess grass along the wall without damaging the siding. Be patient. Remember you fell in love with her for a bajillion reasons, none of which relating to her prowess in lawn care.
3. You no longer have full ownership of anything. You've departed from bachelor world where you the words "my" and "mine" dominate your vocabulary. "Our" is the new go-to when referring to anything and everything you may have at some point in your life thought you had claim to. It is now referred to as "our house." Our car. Our bed. Our television that is constantly tuned into "Keeping Up with the Kardashians" and other celebrity-filled, drama-fueled programming that makes you want to gouge your eyes out with our scissors. Sharing is caring.
4. Your friends don't understand, and it's strangely okay. Despite how you relish in the fact you can use (and overuse) the words "husband" or "wife" freely, your friends are gonna shoot you weird glances when they hear them and hesitate before they say them. They'll still be hitting you up on the weekends and summer nights just like they did before, but weirdly, unlike when you were dating, you'll be okay with it (most of the time). It's like a well-kept secret, a silent understanding between the two of you that the "dating" mentality is no more. That hectic sense of vying for each other's time is non-existent because you're together all the time. Perhaps, the weirdest change is how that time you spend together is so much deeper and cherished. And before you say it, it's not just sex that makes that time so incredible. (Mind-blowing, I know.) It's simply being in the other's presence and knowing that there's no place in the world you'd be happier.
And last but not least...
It is truly amazing how fast time has flown by. (Cue my dad saying, "I told you so.")
The wedding day, the honeymoon, and everything up until now is stored in my memory as a swirling blur of emotion and color and highlights. But despite the rush of these past few weeks, I've managed to learn quite a bit of useful information about marriage that unmarried guys may or may not be aware of. Don't get me wrong...I am by no means an expert on all things matrimonial.
Heck, I'm not an expert on anything relating and/or pertaining to marriage. I understand that I'm still in that "honeymoon phase" that you relationship veterans so charmingly reflect on. But I am, in fact, still married and my wife hasn't killed me yet after living in the same house as me for nearly a month, so I must be doing something right. That, or she's lulling me into a false sense of security with food and cuddling. Regardless of whether this is the last thing I ever write or not, here's the top five things I have learned post-knot tying:
1. Always lift the toilet seat, and put it back down when you're done. Even if you're dog tired and the neighbor's obnoxious, mange-ridden chihuahua has disturbed your sleep and restored consciousness to your bladder FOR THE FIFTH TIME IN ONE NIGHT, just lower the dang lid. Because if you thought you didn't sleep well last night...you certainly won't find peace in the morning.
Heck, I'm not an expert on anything relating and/or pertaining to marriage. I understand that I'm still in that "honeymoon phase" that you relationship veterans so charmingly reflect on. But I am, in fact, still married and my wife hasn't killed me yet after living in the same house as me for nearly a month, so I must be doing something right. That, or she's lulling me into a false sense of security with food and cuddling. Regardless of whether this is the last thing I ever write or not, here's the top five things I have learned post-knot tying:
1. Always lift the toilet seat, and put it back down when you're done. Even if you're dog tired and the neighbor's obnoxious, mange-ridden chihuahua has disturbed your sleep and restored consciousness to your bladder FOR THE FIFTH TIME IN ONE NIGHT, just lower the dang lid. Because if you thought you didn't sleep well last night...you certainly won't find peace in the morning.
2. She isn't going to know/have the ability to do all the things you can do. Take weedeating, for instance. She may not understand why weedeating is necessary. You might have to explain that slamming the lawnmower into the side of the house won't gently cut the excess grass along the wall without damaging the siding. Be patient. Remember you fell in love with her for a bajillion reasons, none of which relating to her prowess in lawn care.
3. You no longer have full ownership of anything. You've departed from bachelor world where you the words "my" and "mine" dominate your vocabulary. "Our" is the new go-to when referring to anything and everything you may have at some point in your life thought you had claim to. It is now referred to as "our house." Our car. Our bed. Our television that is constantly tuned into "Keeping Up with the Kardashians" and other celebrity-filled, drama-fueled programming that makes you want to gouge your eyes out with our scissors. Sharing is caring.
4. Your friends don't understand, and it's strangely okay. Despite how you relish in the fact you can use (and overuse) the words "husband" or "wife" freely, your friends are gonna shoot you weird glances when they hear them and hesitate before they say them. They'll still be hitting you up on the weekends and summer nights just like they did before, but weirdly, unlike when you were dating, you'll be okay with it (most of the time). It's like a well-kept secret, a silent understanding between the two of you that the "dating" mentality is no more. That hectic sense of vying for each other's time is non-existent because you're together all the time. Perhaps, the weirdest change is how that time you spend together is so much deeper and cherished. And before you say it, it's not just sex that makes that time so incredible. (Mind-blowing, I know.) It's simply being in the other's presence and knowing that there's no place in the world you'd be happier.
And last but not least...
5. She is the most beautiful, wonderful, and precious thing in your life.
Don't you ever, ever forget it.
Friday, June 27, 2014
Everyday.
Two weeks. Two. More. Weeks. That's how long I have to wait to marry my best friend and better half.
That's how long I must wait to hear those beautiful words leave her lips, those words I've been dying to hear since I fell in love with her almost two years ago: "I do."
Stories are often told of little girls who grow up dreaming of one day finding and marrying their true love. It's not the norm for a boy, much less a 22 year-old man to openly admit to dreaming of finding love.
But I did.
Growing up in church, I received my weekly ration of Adam and Eve references, how God created Eve of the same flesh as Adam and how whole and completing their relationship was. I marveled at how love between two people could be that powerful, so powerful, in fact, that the human race was literally born of it. Words cannot describe how sacred and profound that first romance must have been. Their marriage was founded deeply with God-crafted emotions predating the universe itself, and while they were created as two creatures, that ancient, wonderful, incredible, breathtaking love bound them together as one.
That a man and woman could bond in such an all-consuming way that they essentially become an extension of one another in mind, body, and spirit...amazing.
Throughout my life, I (admittedly) haven't prayed about very many things consistently, but one thing I have asked God for almost as long as I could remember is for Him to allow me to one day find my own "Eden" story, a love rooted in God's love for me and as joyous and rewarding as the acceptance of that love.
So no, I don't really mind to wait a little bit longer. Two weeks is hardly anything at all.
I've been waiting all my life to find that most precious of treasures God describes in His word. The love that Proverbs describes as the "overflowing of a fountain," a love that's "worth far more than jewels" and the physical manifestation of God's own love for man. Patience is a virtue, and my beautiful girl is the reason I know that.
A few weeks ago, I was looking through photos of the day we were engaged. The joy on her face was absolutely priceless. I decided right then, that if I could make her that happy everyday, if I could make her want to marry me everyday, and if I chose to love her like God loves me everyday, like Adam loved Eve everyday, then at the end of my life I wouldn't have wasted a single moment.
I love you, Molly, and I will everyday. I promise. Two more weeks 'til forever.
That's how long I must wait to hear those beautiful words leave her lips, those words I've been dying to hear since I fell in love with her almost two years ago: "I do."
Stories are often told of little girls who grow up dreaming of one day finding and marrying their true love. It's not the norm for a boy, much less a 22 year-old man to openly admit to dreaming of finding love.
But I did.
Growing up in church, I received my weekly ration of Adam and Eve references, how God created Eve of the same flesh as Adam and how whole and completing their relationship was. I marveled at how love between two people could be that powerful, so powerful, in fact, that the human race was literally born of it. Words cannot describe how sacred and profound that first romance must have been. Their marriage was founded deeply with God-crafted emotions predating the universe itself, and while they were created as two creatures, that ancient, wonderful, incredible, breathtaking love bound them together as one.
That a man and woman could bond in such an all-consuming way that they essentially become an extension of one another in mind, body, and spirit...amazing.
Throughout my life, I (admittedly) haven't prayed about very many things consistently, but one thing I have asked God for almost as long as I could remember is for Him to allow me to one day find my own "Eden" story, a love rooted in God's love for me and as joyous and rewarding as the acceptance of that love.
And so...as Matthew 21:22 says, "Whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive."
And my, oh my, the blessing I have received.
So no, I don't really mind to wait a little bit longer. Two weeks is hardly anything at all.
I've been waiting all my life to find that most precious of treasures God describes in His word. The love that Proverbs describes as the "overflowing of a fountain," a love that's "worth far more than jewels" and the physical manifestation of God's own love for man. Patience is a virtue, and my beautiful girl is the reason I know that.
A few weeks ago, I was looking through photos of the day we were engaged. The joy on her face was absolutely priceless. I decided right then, that if I could make her that happy everyday, if I could make her want to marry me everyday, and if I chose to love her like God loves me everyday, like Adam loved Eve everyday, then at the end of my life I wouldn't have wasted a single moment.
I love you, Molly, and I will everyday. I promise. Two more weeks 'til forever.
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