Why Robin? Why?

Once in a while a complete stranger dies, and something shocking occurs within me.  I feel loss.  Not just the sadness of human life being lost, but indeed personal loss.  I will miss this stranger.  I felt it when Phillip Seymour Hoffman died, and now again today I feel it as the news rings of Robin Williams taking his own life.  I feel small bits of what those who actually knew him must feel times a million.  I feel loss.  Part of me wants to count it as silly.  I can hear other, more cynical voices making fun of me.  My mind produces made up comments from this mysterious “them” about how stupid it is, or celebrity worship blah blah blah.  Only, anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to worship celebrity.  And so it is that I find myself, with age, letting my heart just feel what it feels, and not letting the stupidity of cynicism quash my feelings.  After a decade and a half of depression crushing my heart I’ll take whatever feelings I can get.  So, again, I feel loss.  I feel angry too, angry that Robin Williams quit.  I know the pain of severe depression.  It soaked my life, and stole my heart and soul, and tortured me every second of every day.  I have been well now for a couple of years, and yet I still battle the aftershocks, the thoughts, lies that a mind twisted by pain have come to believe.  Often, God reaches for me with love and tenderness but I recoil as a dog who was beaten one too many times to even stop and think that the outreaching could be anything other than more pain.  I know the pain, but I am still here.  

 

Why, Robin?  Why?  People love you.  Depression, statistically, ends.  It is almost certain to cease.  Just keep going.  Now it is too late.  We cannot reach you anymore.  If only you could see the world’s reaction, their sadness.  

How many follow the same pattern and yet have no one or very few to lament them? Robin Williams death has brought back to my heart the desire to reach out to my brothers and sisters who are hurting.  I have believed too many lies.  Lies that no one cares, or that such a thing means I should I stop trying.  So what if no one cares.  You don’t fight the fights you can win.  You fight the fights that need fighting, and this is a fight for the ages, for you see depression is not rare.  It will touch every life, whether they know it or not.  Unless you don’t love anyone, and you never struggle, it WILL touch your life, knowingly or not. 

The thought I keep having when I think about Robin Williams is, “Do people STILL think depression is NOT real?  Do they now get the reality of depression?  Do they think Robin violently choked the life out of himself for no good reason?  For something he just made up?  Can they still think it?”  

I hope not.  If anything good can come out of this pile of crap news, this darkness, I hope it is that more hearts will change, that people who once held the belief that those who were depressed were just weak or needed to just get over it and think happy thoughts will be stopped dead in their tracks and finally see that this darkness is real and is not a decision.  Taking of life is a decision.  The darkness is not.  

I think of how there is this trick to parenting when it comes to how much you shelter your children.  Some parents take every measure to hide their children’s eyes and minds to the world.  They think they are doing them a favor.  The problem is that sheltering one day cracks, for you cannot hide the reality of the other side of life forever.  That perfect childhood becomes the very weapon of destruction as an adult, for that mind is not prepared.  The world changes, cracks, as to where the mind of a child who was raised with measures of reality adapts to the realities of life slowly, incrementally, and healthily.  Their understanding of reality develops as they do, as opposed to bashing them over the head one day.  The sheltered mind must one day be wrecked and start over, and painfully.  Some simply refuse to accept this new world.  They opt out.  

So it is with depression.  I get it.  It is not something we want to be believe.  How can it be that so many people bear the burden of this inner darkness?  How can it be that the human race struggles so?  That at any moment any of us can fall into it?  It is terrifying, and much easier to just not believe it or not think about it.  Yet, it is only easier until reality comes crashing.  The darkness of depression hits us, our parents, our children, siblings, friends, someone, and our world shatters.  If only we had believed, developed as we went, we would be so much stronger, prepared for the darkness.  Still, most choose to plug their ears and chime, “La la la la,” until depression yanks their fingers out of their ears, slaps them in the face, and yanks their heart of their chest.  Sometimes it is too late, and we lose people.  It is their fault, yes.  They take their own lives, but could we as individuals or a society be more open and prepared?  Yes.  We can start with the simple admission to ourselves that the darkness of depression is real, and it is not simply wished away.  We can steady our hearts for the possibility of battling that darkness for ourselves or someone we love, and pray like mad that such hell passes us by.  No, foolish or not, we swing for the moon and pray that darkness goes straight where it came from, hell. 

My Mind: From Prison to Playground

My mind has always had wanderlust.  No matter where I was… I wasn’t.  My report cards all read the same thing.  They all spoke of how I was respectful, obedient, a great kid, yet one that could not stop daydreaming.  My poor teachers just couldn’t compete with the playground in my mind.  My narrative and visual capabilities have always been off the charts.  That vividness of imagination gave me so much freedom.  I would fly like Peter Pan, score the winning touchdown, save the day, create fantastic worlds all at my whim.  Every night I would love going to sleep, as it gave me the freedom to visit that playground in my mind unabated.  It was bliss.  My mind was my constant escape, my favorite place to go…

…until it wasn’t.

In the blink of an eye that playground got turned into a torture chamber.  Depression ravaged my mind, heart, and soul.  If you haven’t experienced it, I’d like you to try to imagine your thoughts not really being your own, nor your emotions.  Imagine the sensation that someone else is picking your thoughts and feelings, and they are choosing only the worst ones you could have imagined.  That mind that gave you freedom now was a prison you could not escape.  You took your torment with you everywhere you went.  Everywhere you were… you weren’t.  You were never able to feel the emotion of the moment.  The best thing in the world could happen to you, but all you don’t care.  You are screaming inside the prison in your mind.  No one sees it.  Most don’t care.  Worst yet is that you come to believe the prison is inescapable, that it is your fault, that you built it, only adding to your torment.  If you built it then you should be able to tear it down, right?  I hated my mind, for it had believed it had betrayed me in the worst of ways.  How I wished to be able to go anywhere else.  It was my least favorite place in the world…

…until it wasn’t.

Some years ago things changed.  The slow slog back to health began.  To this day I am still unlearning things taught to me in my pain.  This last year has seen the resurgence of myself in a way I once thought completely impossible. My mind is once again a playground, and I am struggling to even know how to use it.  I feel like I had my legs cut off, and they’ve been reattached.  It is hard to fathom that this mind of mine was once a place of torture.  The pain is not forgotten.  I have to sometimes remind myself that it is safe to go, that I no longer have to fear my mind, have to try and constantly distract myself.  The bonus is that, unlike before, I cannot take for granted what I have.  The scar inside me will never let me forget.  If memories are wrinkles in the brain then that memory is a canyon.  It is my belief that pain is necessary for the highest good, for it is in the face of true pain that true joy is felt, and do I ever feel it.  Oh how I feel it.  My mind is once again a place of awe and wonder, love and life.  Praise be to God.

God is a God of redemption.  He has brought me out of the abyss.  He has restored my mind when I thought that it was impossible.  May you find some hope and peace in my story, and may God show you the joy felt on the other side of tragedy. 

A Beautiful Mind by: Laning Photography

Nicholas L. Laning

Depression and Decision Making Do Not Mix Well

From the title alone there are issues...

"Nicholas" you may be thinking, "What if you're depressed for years... akindalike you were.  Can you really live and not make decisions?"  

No.  No you can't.  As a matter of fact, depression is filled with choices that have to made.  Let me say that again.  Depression will present you with some of the hardest choices you will ever face.  Do I take meds?  Go to counseling?  Do I keep on believing there is a God, or abandon my faith?  Do I keep on believing there isn't one, that we are just an accident, or do I abandon my faith?  Do I keep living?

Decisions are everywhere, and they have to be met... but there should be special considerations for special times such as this.  

For one, decisions in depression should not be made alone.  Depression is a MENTAL illness.  It is an illness that affects your mind.  What happens when people's thinking is impaired?  When someone is drunk, should they be making decisions alone?  What about high?  They shouldn't, and neither should someone who is depressed.  If you have a depressed loved one, do everything in your power to gently be involved.  You can't force someone, but you can be there, be available, pour in wisdom when possible, provide a safe place for them to share and allow you to be involved.  

Depressed folks, I pray you'll have just enough of yourself left, enough of your will, your decision making power to recognize how much help you need.  Seek help.  Ask people you trust.  I'm not saying do everything others say, or relinquish yourself.  I am simply saying to take in good advice.  Have the wherewithal to recognize your state of mind and emotions, and let others help.  It could save your life, your marriage, your friendships, your job, your faith.  

It is wise to not make life altering decisions while depressed.  It just makes sense.  I would advise against deciding to marry someone while depressed.  You can't feel what you should, then don't put that onus on another person.  If married, don't decide to not be.  You aren't yourself.  That's okay.  Just keep breathing.  Others may not know just how hard deciding to keep breathing can be, but I do, and many others do too.  You are not alone.  Sometimes, just breathing and choosing not to leave can make you a heroic spouse.  Same goes with having children.  You should wait to pursue marriage and kids when you are not sick.  You don't sign up for a marathon when your leg is broken.   

There is no going back.  Sure you can quit on your marriage, but you can't unmarry someone.  You become divorced, not unmarried.  There's a difference.  Your decision will affect yourself and countless more for the rest of your lives.  You'll leave a wake of broken hearts, only to have your depression end, as it will, and you'll realize just how stupid what you did really was.  You can't unhave a kid.  You can't become unpregnant.  You can kill your unborn child, but not undo what you did.  

If you decide to get married or have kids you are still expected to be a spouse, be a parent.  I say it all the time, and I'll say it again.  Suffering from Depression does not give you a right to sin.  You are given some latitude in understanding from others, but not a free pass.  Depression, if anything, is an opportunity to rise, to overcome, to do what is right in the face of what feels to be insurmountable evil and torment.  You ARE capable of doing the right thing.  It is just way way way harder, but you can do it.  I believe in your victory.  

I was once depressed and tormented, nagged by the abyss, incessant, involuntary negativity that stole my life, and emotional paralysis.  I was amongst the dead, connected emotionally with zombie movies, and yet now live.  I hurt like a healthy heart does, love like a healthy heart does, and it is beautiful.  Fight on.  

HEBREWS 4:15-16

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.   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.