He Ain't Heavy...He's My Brother.

Nicholas L. Laning

 One of the most constant lies that I have seen that people who are depressed feel is that they need to retract from everyone.  DON'T SEEK HELP!  YOU WILL JUST BURDEN EVERYONE!  It rings through the mind again and again, and thus the fight continues on its most dangerous form, fought alone, with a twisted mind the target and the weapon.

I had a dear friend once tell me that they thought it would be easier to simply kill their self, so that they would no longer be a burden on anyone.  I told them that if they killed themselves then they would not only not lighten anyone's load, but that they would burden everyone they loved for the rest of their lives.  The truth was the complete opposite. 

The pain of a loved one is not a burden.  In fact, it is our privilege as siblings, friends, parents, grandparents, whatever, to help you carry your pain.  Do not rob the ones you love of that privilege.  Let them help you.  Let them be a part.  No, they won't always know what to say, but neither do you.  Tell the people you love that you are struggling.  Don't fight it in the shadows.
                                                                    Don't  fight it alone.

You ain't heavy... you're someone's________... brother, friend, spouse, father, daughter, grandmother, nephew... and they want you well.  They love you, and more than that, our Father in heaven loves you.  You certainly aren't heavy to Him.  So, keep breathing, fight on, and have hope.  I am proud of you for coming as far as you have.  Your struggle is not in vain.  You are not alone.  Hope is real.

Two Different Views of Depression

Depression by Nicholas L. Laning

Depression II by Nicholas L. Laning

Somewhere Else

Just play the song, and either close your eyes or look at the picture or whatever you'd like, and imagine yourself somewhere else for just a moment.

Mark 4:39 ESV

And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.

Somewhere Else by Nicholas L. Laning

Poor Boy

Self Pity by Nicholas L. Laning

pity |ˈpi-tē|

noun ( pl. pities)

1 the feeling of sorrow and compassion caused by the suffering and misfortunes of others : her voice was full of pity.
2 [in sing. ] a cause for regret or disappointment : what a pity we can't be friends.
verb ( pities, pitied) [ trans. ]
feel sorrow for the misfortunes of : Clare didn't know whether to envy or pity them | [as adj. ] ( pitying) he gave her a pitying look.

PHRASES

for pity's sake informal used to express impatience or make an urgent appeal.
more's the pity informal used to express regret about a fact that has just been stated.
take (or have) pity show compassion : they took pity on him and gave him food.

DERIVATIVES

pityingly adverb

ORIGIN 

Middle English (also in the sense [clemency, mildness] ): from Old French pite ‘compassion,’ from Latin pietas ‘piety’ ; compare with piety .
 


I believe in the use of pity.  I didn't used to though.  Very many Americans seem to despise pity.  We give it meagerly, with clasped, begrudging hands, usually with only half a heart.  We believe in people picking themselves up from their bootstraps, people who lived through dubya dubya two and built the Hoover Dam during the Great Depression.  So, it is no surprise that we often are tempted to look at pity as a disease, something that will only serve to encourage people in their poor station.  If we can just deny it, they will too maybe, and work their way out.  "Get over it."  "Pick yourself up.  You're embarrassing."  "Stop being so selfish."

There can surely be truth in this.   It can also be a sign of a cold heart.  Indeed, it can be out of selfishness that they are spoken.  It is surely a seemingly inconvenient (though not actually so) thing to take the time and effort and trust to open your heart, and allow it to hurt on someone else's behalf.

The Christian heart should not only be open to pity, but it should be ever present.  Not that would she overcome by pity, or by the burden of other people's sin or suffering, but that we wouldn't reject them either.  Our hearts should bleed for those suffering in East Africa, of Cancer, of Depression, from human cruelty, or nature's ruthless power.  Pity is absolutely necessary for a healthy heart.  If you can't find any room for pity in your heart, then it is has turned to stone, because there is surely no shortage of people to pity.  Quite the contrary.

However, what I don't believe in, is self pity.  At least, I think it much like anger.  There is room for a short flash of the emotion.  But, just like with anger, there is no room for it to sit and fester.  When we start acting out in self pity, it gets bad.  Leave the pitying for others.  Self pity would have us wallow in our own pain, and is rooted in pride.  "Look at my pain!" It screams.  Pity that is begged for is rarely, if ever genuine. 

If you are wondering, yes, this is on my heart because, I must confess, over the last few days, I have wallowed in self pity.  Yes, the list of trials is real.  Yes, they really are heavy, and I feel fine having a bit of sorrow over some of them.  However, my reaction has been to simply feel sorry for myself.

I haven't been active at anything.  Sound familiar?  I have wanted to sleep, or just die, anything to just make it all stop.  But, I am not currently dying (that I know of), and have more life to live.

Yesterday, I was given the realization that my self pity isn't doing anybody any good, least of all me.  So, I stopped complaining, stopped whining in my heart, stopped looking for more points to add to my tank of sorrow, and decided to look to God in true hope.  The change in my heart was immediate, though not necessarily all encompassing.  A day later, and I am back to normal.  My circumstances haven't changed outwardly, but it might as well be a totally different world.  God is indeed faithful when I am not.

So, you in the abyss.  What you are dealing with is surely a thousand times stronger than what I felt yesterday.  I know it.  I was there once too.  I am not naive.  However, that lesson yesterday was simply a reminder of a decision I made amidst my time in the abyss.  That decision to stop wallowing in self pity, and look past my emotions, and hope beyond hope, and choose to see things as good (even when the incessant negativity didn't stop screaming the opposite).  It was one of the great turning points in my ten year battle with depression.

Follow my lead.  Trust me when I say that it will do you no good to rot in your pain.  Believe beyond what you feel, and start speaking and acting out hope, real hope.  It will not be an overnight switch necessarily, but it will make a difference.  Even when you get out of it, self pity will still be there to try and trap you.  Don't believe the lie.  Pity others, and leave it to others to pity you.  If no one does so, know that God cares for you, enough so that He sent His only son to suffer worse than you have, that you might be able to come Him.

Hebrews 4:14-16

14 Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. 

15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.  

16 Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

1 Peter 5:10

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.

 Philippians 3:

7 But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ.  
8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 
9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith--  
10 that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 
11 that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
12 Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.  

13 Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, 

14 I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  

15 Let those of us who are mature think this way, and if in anything you think otherwise, God will reveal that also to you.  

16 Only let us hold true to what we have attained. 

17 Brothers, join in imitating me, and keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you have in us.  

18 For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ.  

19 Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things.  

20 But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ,

21 who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself.

Hope in What is Unseen

Double Rainbow Over The Irish Sea by Nicholas L. Laning

Things have been beyond rough.  Due to discretion, I am not going to be specific about most of the things.  I can say that Saturday morning, as I was driving to go be a part of Transform, a ministry through our church, I was met with the heart breaking news of my Nanna's death.  At first, I was tempted to turn back around and sit at home, but I am glad I didn't.  Being alone would have been bad.  Instead I was comforted greatly with some surprise conversation.  Also, the kind and comforting words of our Pastor, Steve Hardin, went along way.

When Daddy Jake (my granfather) died in February, I wept for days.  It was normal.  It was healthy.  It was a beautiful expression of my affection.  When I heard about Nanna, on top of the seemingly endless list of trials that has come our way lately, I reacted in a way all too familiar to most of you.  I did not weep.  Instead, my brain just stopped.  Too much pain.  Too much sorrow.  Too much stress.  Time to close up shop.  There is no room for me in this life.  I must become hard to survive.  That is the lie that was reaching up from out of the shadows to grip my mind.  Again and again I just did the opposite of what I felt like doing, and I kept praying.  "God, may you be praised in all this.  Please soften my heart.  Please don't let me fall back into the abyss.  Please Father."  And that is when I remembered so many things that helped me get through depression.  Things forgotten, if only in part.  Things we must talk about, like, how to act and believe regardless of what you feel.  To be able to not let your feelings dictate what you believe.  Influence, yes.  Dictate, no.

Or, I had forgotten about the most amazing weapon against depression.  HOPE.  Hoping in things that aren't yet seen.  Years went by with me sulking.  I would hope when I had reason to, when I was shown.  But if I see it, then it isn't hope.  


Romans 8:24-28
24 For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees?  
25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.  
26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. 
27 And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.  
28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

We cannot wait for things to get better to praise God.  No, it is here, in the middle of the pain, that lies the greatest opportunity for praise.  So, God be praised.  He is wonderful.  He is precious.  He is beautiful, and not later, when things are better, but right now, even through the thick of blinding pain. 

from the shores of the Abyss: a mother's view

This, too, is my first post - actually almost my first ever post. So be kind! I am Nicholas's mother. It is impossible to cover 10 years in a post so I want to begin with that first day. My precious son came home from high school and collapsed into my arms weeping and sobbing that there was something terribly wrong. My heart leapt, my imagination ran wild - but I never could have guessed that I was about to spend the next ten years in the greatest struggle of my life. At first I thought - this too shall pass- but when he not only did not improve but became more -humm -there are no words for what he became -despondent is as close as I can get. Then I thought something had happened to Nicholas to cause this emotional collapse (one rarely recognizes the problem as depression from the beginning and I was no exception). Maybe someone attacked him, or ridiculed him -the suppositions were endless! I just held him in my arms - both of us were weeping and I was scared. As a mom I felt I should be able to fix any and everything - but - I did not even know where to start. I was helpless - the only place to go was to Jesus Christ my Lord. I tried to console Nicholas and to pray - pray HARD! It was a long journey but in my next post I will tell about the words the Lord gave me to cling onto until Nicholas was healed! Everyday was a journey and still is but God gave us hope at the start and He has rescued us from the Abyss.

From the Shores of the Abyss: A Wife's View

My name is Kathleen Laning. I am Nicholas' wife. I was there for the last two years of his depression. Here is my first post:

Looking at someone you love, struggle with anything is difficult. But watching their soul and heart disintegrate day after day from depression breaks your heart in a deeper way. You feel helpless for them, yourself, you ache, you feel tired, you feel alone. So much can be twisted in your own head while your loved one weeps on your chest: their tears turn into a river and you feel your heart swept into the Abyssic Ocean with them. You taste their bitter sense of dread, like the salt in the thick, black waves. Hopelessness beats at you, tempts you... just an easy slip under that swirling, black water: release, rest. You fight back, gasping for air, holding your loved one as they are under the water, something unknown pulling them deeper. In your head you try to form a lifeboat out of ideas and solutions, but they aren't really there. They try to form, but fall apart, and no lifeboat appears on the stormy waters. The disillusioned remnants of your own strength prove a lie, covering the water, black and useless like spilled oil. The waters of pain are too deep, the waves too big, for you to conquer on your own and pull your love's body up, finally up out of the infinite depths. Then light streaks through the clouds and you feel a shard of hope. You can't express it fully to your loved one who is yet trapped beneath the waves of pain, but you hold on to them with renewed vigor, by the strength that's been opened up for you to use... like God sent a helicopter, shining a spotlight onto you, dropping down a life preserver for you. But why not two floats for both of us? One is enough and He gives it, lovingly. You hold on to His preserver, or rather it holds onto you, in my mind it is Christ, there in the waves, experiencing the pain, knowing what it is like, graciously sustaining you. You receive further strength, to hold fast to your love under the tumult of waves and give them the truth that in their mind feels only a lie, "It will be okay, He has us. It will end. He cares for you." You hold onto your loved one. You endure with the strength you needed and never had on your own. The strength they need to tap into to survive. Time seems to drag and though you can't see it, you hear the helicopter again. It's circling back. Although it may not be in full sight through the dark clouds, you hear it. It's coming. Your rescue.

My Wall of Anti-Depressants

During my research for this site, I came across a list of antidepressants.  I haven't taken any depression related medication for nearly seven years now.  As an exercise, I thought I would write down all the ones I took.  The result has shocked me.  I must say, looking at this list is maybe the most striking reminder of what I went through, almost like a list of names at a memorial.

Celexa
Lexapro
Prozac
Zoloft
Effexor
Wellbutrin
Concerta
Adderall
Remeron
Lithium (Eskalith)
Buspar
Ambien (for insomnia)

Pain Without Poetry: Depression Isn't Blue

Trying to WHOLLY describe depression to people on the outside is just futile.  That's why, when I talk about it, people always remark how calm and unmoved I am as tell them I was tortured by depression for a decade straight.  The reason is that it doesn't matter what I say, or how I say it.  If I break down crying, or I scream, it doesn't even begin to quantify it.  It doesn't DO anything.

Even the name depression shows that people don't have a clue.  Go Google depression, and pick a site on the topic.  There will inevitably be a list of symptoms.  Almost always, there will one that says something like, "persistence of feeling blue, inability to get over the blues, feeling down."  (mimes shooting self in face)  Feeling blue eh?  I don't think so.  You feel blue when your baby leaves you for a banjo player named Hopper.  Blue has life in it, color, vibrance, emotion.  You feel blue when you drop your ice cream.

All of that was incredibly long-winded intro to say that I want to try to break down and verbalize the pain of depression.  Note the word TRY.

One of the most unique qualities of the pain of depression is that it (almost) completely lacks poetry.  Here is what I mean.  In life, though we don't like pain, pain tells us about who we are and what we love.  At least once a week I cry because I miss my grandfather.  It hurts me to imagine my life without him.  It seems almost impossible that it could even carry on without his presence (see, I am crying right now as I write about it).  Thing is, I treasure that pain.  That pain screams of my love for my grandfather.  There is a sweetness to it.  I would be horrified if I didn't have it.  Imagine how terrible it would be if the girl or guy you love left and you didn't hurt over it.  What would be your thought?  It would be that you didn't really love them, wouldn't it?  If you can be okay without them, then you must not need them.  It is that pain that screams our affections to us. 

In depression, at least in its most harsh forms, that is all gone.  This is a paradox, but one of the most painful things was that everything is lost.  My emotions of love died within me.  You cannot even begin to imagine what it is like to one day have this switch flipped inside you.  One day I am with the girl I love, and I cannot barely see anything but her, she so fills my heart, the next day I cannot feel her presence at all.  I feel nothing.  Nothing has changed in my conscious self!  Yet, my love is gone.  I reach down into the tank and it is empty.

In depression, people would leave, and my heart was unmoved, people died, and I was unmoved, people got angry at me, and I was unmoved in my heart.  All the while, I am screaming inside myself to wake up!  Wake up!  Wake up!  At times, when I was alone, I would pound my chest, as if that would somehow wake up my heart, or I would shake my head violently as if doing so would somehow knock loose whatever was blocking my brain.  No, I didn't think they would work.  I understand anatomy.  But, I was desperate beyond words, and had nothing to lose but my last thread of hope and sanity.

Depression is not blue, in my mind, it is grey.  Black and white are too perfect, too dynamic in their own right.  Grey is colorless, drab, and not dynamic.  Grey like ashes, burnt of all the energy and life held inside.  The pain is simply there.  It has no poetry.  It doesn't scream of your affections.  It doesn't tell you who you are.  It tells you that you no longer are.  You are a dead person walking, people just don't know it yet.  After a while you start to believe that the pain you now feel, the uncontrollable negativity, the numbness, the pure evil, is reality.   That wonderful life you had before was just a momentary illusion.

Yet, you are still breathing.  You are still breathing because you hope beyond hope that you are wrong.  And you want to know something cool.  You are.  You are wrong.  Your hope is founded.  The pain of depression is the anomaly, not the other way around.  There is poetry in life.  And, while there is no poetry to be had while in depression, once you are out, once you are free, there will be SO much poetry in it looking back.  You will have an understanding of life others won't even fathom.  You will be so grateful it will blow your mind.  Everything else will seem easy, not period, but in comparison to what you have come through.

I say this as someone who battled severe depression for over ten years straight.  That is ten years without poetry, without cause, without anything but the slightest hope beyond hope.  I never thought it would end.  I thought I would be thus forever.  Praise God!  I was wrong.  My heart is alive, and yours can too.  Just keep breathing.  Keep breathing, and hope beyond hope.  Open your eyes and see that depression can end.

To those of you reading this who aren't depressed.  Thank you for reading and opening your heart to understanding.  If you are reading this, that probably means someone you love is suffering.  Keep it up.  Keep telling them it will be okay.  You have no idea much those words mean coming from a loved one, especially if you really believe it.

My heart and affection go out to you all.  I am praying right now that you would be encouraged, and would cling to hope, that you would fight this awful hell with grace and courage.  Write me if you want.  I am here.

OH!  One more thing.  I made it to where anyone can comment.  No need to log in or anything.  Just type it in. 

There is No List

1 Corinthians 10:13
No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man.  God is faithful, and He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation He will also provide the way of escape, that you MAY be able to endure it. (Emphasis mine)

Man, when i was in the thick of it, this verse nearly killed my faith.  So entrenched was I in my own pride, so highly did I think of myself.  When I read that God would give me no temptation too great, I freaked.  I had two reactions.  Both spawned off of the fact that I believed that my depression was too great for me to handle, and it almost was.  Very few humans know what it is like to live on the edge of sanity.  Most never get close.  They are always a safe distance form the edge.  I lived with one foot off for a decade.  I kept saying in my head, "God, I can't do this!!!!!  Not one more second!!!!"  And I said that for ten years.  So, obviously I was wrong.  But, it felt true. 

Back on track, my first reaction was to feel that God existed, but that He hated me deeply.  He hated me so completely that despite "my" desire to love Him, He was pushing me away with something I couldn't overcome. 

Or, God didn't exist.  That was number two.  This temptation is too great, therefore God is a liar.  Somewhere along the way I was gently shown how false this is.  For one, suffering is all throughout the Bible, so I cannot judge God as a liar based on the Bible.  I would have to judge it from some other stand point, because I was told I would suffer, no, GUARANTEED it. 

I also didn't notice the MAY part.  Obviously, in context, we know that we are going to goof.  That is what the gospel is about, us being broken as people, and coming to Christ for grace and love that is undeserved.  The word MAY is there for a reason.  Just like salvation is open to all, not all are going to accept it. 

So, if I failed at overcoming the temptations that came from depression, it wasn't that I COULDN'T have done so, I simply DIDN'T.  It would not have been God's fault.  It would have been mine.  I was not being forced to sin or fall away.

It was once something I was trying to use as leverage with God, "God this is too big.  You goofed here."  It is as if we think there is this list that we can take to God and say, "So, God, I can't handle this, this, or that, and definitely not this."  With this falsehood in mind, we are then devastated when those things happen.  Because the verse isn't saying that you can tell God what you can and cannot handle.  It is God telling you that you can handle it all.  There is no list. 

Incredible Response

I had been sitting on this site for over a month.  Posts had been put up.  A few other pages had been created.  Yet, I sat on it.  Too much thinking, as usual.  A whole list of shoulds, woulds, and coulds kept me from just going forward.  Finally, after some prayer, I felt I just needed to go ahead and share it.  Nobody expects me to be perfect.  It is simply time to just put it out there, start swinging, and let God handle the rest.

The amazing thing has been the immediate response.  I have gotten more feedback in the last three days of this blog being up, than I have in the almost year that I have been writing for The Fleet Fox, my more common blog.  I kept looking at the stats for that blog, and the few times I posted about depression, there was a huge spike in how many people read the post.  A nerve was being struck.

So, here is a few things I want to do.  I want you to respond, and not for my sake.  I will be just fine without it.  I am no longer under the thumb of depression.  Yet, one of the biggest problems with depression is that it is being fought in the shadows, leaving those on the outside ignorant, and those on the inside to feel absolutely alone.  Both of these can be fought by people just having the guts to share that they are struggling.  Submit a piece of art.  Make it anonymous if you like.  Write a poem and submit it.  Nobody will hound you for more.  I know it is hard enough to just admit it.  But small bits of courage here and there by individuals can accumulate to become one big ball of encouragement, can it not?  You know it can.  So, write me.  Let's figure out how we can continue to help encouraging each other.