My "Mental" Illness

Depression has been in the spotlight a lot lately, particularly in the recent and tragic events of several celebrity suicides.  People are talking, and that is very good.  People are taking notice, and that is very good.  As someone who has experienced occasional depression, and who is currently experiencing depression, I am glad that more people are realizing the need to take depression seriously.

And I hesitate to blog about this subject for several reasons.  I know it's controversial.  Those who believe specific things about depression, whether it's because they've experienced it first-hand, by walking through it with a loved one, or because they've studied it, are very adamant in their beliefs. Matt Walsh wrote a blog shortly after the death of Robin Williams that got all kinds of backlash.  I'm not afraid of backlash, but I am afraid of hurting people, as Matt Walsh did in the writing of that blog.  I did like a lot of what Walsh had to say, but if he did anything wrong, it was that he did the same thing that a lot of people who oppose his ideas on depression and suicide do, as well.

A lot of people seem to think depression is the same for everyone who experiences it.  Even if they don't think that's what they're thinking, their attitudes towards suicide seem to indicate their true thought processes.  People go to the extremes of thinking that all people who commit suicide are either making a horrible conscious choice, or that all people who commit suicide are too mentally ill to think clearly.

I don't have all the answers.  It's okay not to have all the answers, by the way.  But in talking about this with some others via social media, I realized what my thoughts on depression are.  No one who is experiencing it experiences it the same way.  And I don't have the grounds to say that all suicide is always the result of a conscious, awful choice.  I've been in some dark places.  I've been in some very dark places where it was all I could do to fight the demons (that I believe are both literal and figurative) that told me the world would be a better place without me in it.  But I've never attempted suicide, and God forbid that I ever do.  I don't know what it's like to be in that dark of a place.  I've always had control of my thoughts, to some degree, even if it was all I could do to just keep telling myself to hold on until morning.  Morning always came.  The night was so, so long.  But, oh, morning always came.

Some people might not have been able to think clearly enough to realize that morning was coming.  I don't know.

So I can't make any blanket statements.

But, and this is a but that might offend or hurt some people, I think there's a danger in going too far in the opposite direction and saying that all suicide (and all depression, but I'll touch on that later) is always the result of mental illness.  Our society doesn't like to deal with things that just can't be easily dealt with.  We like excuses.  We don't like to blame ourselves.  And we don't want to speak ill of the dead.  It's easier to deal with something like suicide if we can tell ourselves, "This loved one who left us didn't choose to leave us.  It was the depression.  It was the mental illness that killed my loved one.  It's the depression's fault."

I don't want to be insensitive.  I've lost friends to suicide.  I've had friends who have lost close family members to suicide.  It's awful.  There's just no way around that.  There's no sense to be made of it.  Yet we're a society that wants things to make sense.  It's easier to say that suicide is a result of a disease than the result of a very, very bad choice.

In the case of Robin Williams' death, many factors might have been at play.  He was suffering from Parkinson's and might have been having hallucinations.  But the thing is, we really don't know what was going on at the time of his death.  Sometimes, we just don't know.

And that's okay.

It's okay to not know things.

I think that we forget that sometimes, and we try to explain things.  We try to make excuses.  We try to find ways to make things make sense.

The problem is, suicide doesn't make sense.

It just doesn't.

I don't wish to offend.  I don't wish to hurt.  The thing is, if you're upset enough by anything I wrote above, chances are, you've already been hurt.  And deeply.  And I'm sorry.  I'm sorry for what you've been through and what you're going through.  Surviving a suicide is a grief no one should ever have to bear.  It doesn't make sense, and sometimes this world doesn't make sense.  And I'm sorry.

But sin and death exist in this world, and really, they were never meant to.  We're all subject to pain and grief and loss and hardship that God never intended for us.  But when Adam and Eve fell from grace, sin entered into the world, and we all have to bear the consequences.  Sometimes the pain we experience is the result of our own sin.  Sometimes it's the result of someone else's sin.  Sometimes, it's just a result of sin in general.  And this world is a hard, hard place in which to live.

And this is something else that might offend people, but I've already taken offense.  I take offense to those who make blanket statements about depression.  I take offense to those who say that all depression is a mental illness.  If all depression is the result of mental illness, then, because I experience depression, I'm mentally ill.

And maybe people who make such blanket statements are trying to be encouraging by saying that my depression isn't my fault.  I don't think that experiencing depression is my fault either, necessarily, but I'm not comfortable with this idea that I don't have any responsibility in how I live as a depressed individual.

If I wake up in the morning and don't want to get out of bed, I still get out of bed because I have things I'm supposed to do.  Is it easy?  No.  If I'm at work and I numb and disconnected from reality, I still work and try to invest myself in what I'm doing.  Is it easy?  No.  My particular brand of depression is more numb and apathetic than sad (though if I let myself have a pity party and invite my anxiety, I can get ridiculously sad pretty quickly), but I learned a long time ago that life is a whole lot more than what I'm feeling.  If I don't "feel" what I'm doing, that doesn't make it less real.  What I do is still important, even if I don't "feel" it.

And others might not be able to overcome it that easily, and there are definitely days when I struggle more than others.  But my depression is NOT a mental illness.  And what's more is, I don't necessarily want to be rid of it.

I read something somewhere (I wish I'd written down the source, sorry) that made some statement that depressed people's minds were so distorted that they didn't realize it was preferable not to be depressed.  Maybe that's where I am.  Maybe all of these thoughts are just the result of a mental illness, and therefore I'm just absolutely crazy.  But I don't think so.

I've been depressed, on and off, throughout my entire adult life.  Seasonal depression almost always hits me in the autumn, but I experience it at other times, too.  And what I've learned is that I do tend to think more deeply when I'm going through seasons of depression.  Artistically, some of my best song lyrics and writing have come out of times when I'm struggling.  And maybe I should think to ask God if I could have creativity without depression, but I've always kind of figured that it's connected.  I don't mean just creativity and depression; I mean life.

Life is not just joy.  Life is not just sorrow.  It's not just bursts of creativity or comfortable silences.  It's a journey, and I seem to be taking the scenic route.  Others have had problems with that, but I don't despair of who I am.  Sometimes my depression helps me slow down and look at things others might have missed, or that I might have missed if I weren't looking.

I don't see depression as a mental illness.  I don't see it as a gift either, really.  It's just something that is, that's part of what I have to experience along with everything else in this wonderful, awful life.

And this is more than just that old cliche about the only difference between a blessing and a curse is how you choose to see it.  I just know that I've got a path in front of me.  I don't always see the next step.  I just put one foot in front of the other, and pray I won't stumble.  And sometimes I do stumble.  And sometimes I retreat back a few steps.  And sometimes things are harder than others.

But one thing I'm sure of is that there is mercy in the struggle.

There is so much mercy.

Because the only illness I have is the same illness the whole world has.   It's not really a mental illness as much as it's an illness of the soul.  It's called sin.  There's only one cure for it.  And I'm just grateful that through all that I've experienced, I've met one named Jesus who has saved me from sin and self forever.  I struggle.  Oh, I struggle.  But my hope is in Him.

I can't speak for anyone else regarding depression.  All I know is that He's the One who has given to me songs in the night and joy in the morning.

And I figure as long as I'm traveling along this road of life, that's the way it's supposed to be.

Sin, Grace, and the False Dilemma

The other day, the Christian band "Among the Thirsty" had a quote posted on their Facebook timeline. No one was credited, so I'm assuming it was one of their musicians, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I liked this quote because it perfectly summarized a thought I've been having lately.

This is what was posted:

"The depravity of man and God's unconditional love for man are merely opposing truths without the bridge that Christ creates."

Lately, it seems I've been bombarded with this idea that EITHER we are dirty, worthless, weak sinners, OR we are redeemed, beautiful, beloved children of God.  I've been gently chided by well-meaning people for suggesting that I'm weak or worthless. I've heard people talking about this either-or scenario, seen people post about it on social media. And honestly, I have wanted to speak up about it for awhile.

Now, I get where some people are coming from (to a point). There are those that can't believe God would love them or that Christ would die for them because they believe the lie that they're too dirty or too far gone. There are also people who have gone through situations that make it oppressively difficult for them to refer to themselves or others as "dirty" or "worthless." I'm trying to be sensitive to that, but I'm coming from a different place. I can't keep quiet about it.

I'm coming from a place where I realize how sinful, weak, and worthless I really am. I'm coming from a place where I know the depravity of my heart, the way it can be quickly turned, the way it seeks the idol of self, the way it always has sought the idol of self. I know how weak I am, that I fear so much, that I want to hide away from the world. I know my worthlessness, that I've corrupted myself for the sake of such temporal things, that I don't have anything of my own to give.

In the perspective of the either-or philosophy on redemption that I've seen so often lately, things don't look so good for me.

Good thing I don't buy into the false dilemma, either-or philosophy.

It's not an either-or; it's a BOTH-AND. It's the most remarkable both-and scenario that ever existed, will ever exist. It's the both-and that changes everything.

I can't grasp how remarkable it is that God loves me unless I know how unlovable I am. I can't grasp how powerful God is unless I know how weak I am. I can't grasp how remarkable it is that Christ would die for me while I was still a sinner, unless I have some minute knowledge of how totally depraved I am.

I'm not wallowing in sin and worthlessness.  That's not where I am at all.  I'm understanding (as much as I can) how hopeless I would be without Christ so that I can appreciate (as much as I can) how much hope I have with Christ.

I'm no longer worthless, not because of some innate worth, but because Christ has given me worth and restored me to the purposes for which I was fearfully and wonderfully made-the God works which were prepared in advance for me to do, to the glory of God. I'm no longer weak because Christ's power is made perfect in my weakness. I'm no longer dirty because Christ literally went through hell to clean me up.

But I can't forget who I would be if God decided to leave me as I was, without Him. I can't act as if I were (and I quote a "Sidewalk Prophets" song that has great intent, and yet, I believe, misses the point) "someone worth dying for." I'm NOT someone worth dying for. But God, because He IS worthy, became a man and died for me. It's not because I am lovable, but because HE IS LOVING.

That is the point.

And while others might find the both-and scenario oppressive, I find that this truth frees me up.  My time and talents aren't mine. They were freely given to me, so I can freely give to others. My worth isn't by my own merit, so I don't have to be afraid that I'm going to mess up and somehow lose my worth. My weaknesses are just opportunities for Christ to reveal His strength. I can truly love my Father because I know how much He loves me. I can truly serve my Father because I know what He has done to adopt me as His child--not just a servant (though I don't even deserve to be that) BUT HIS CHILD.

I'm not wallowing in sin here at all. I'm realizing the remarkable, wonderful, incredible truth that Christ has done the impossible. He bridged the dilemma, the gap, the chasm of our sin, ever keeping us from God's holiness.  He's brought us back to God, made us whole again, and made us children of God.  No, I'm not wallowing. I'm rejoicing!

All glory to God.

Not Enough: The Half Truth and The Whole

So, my blog life has been strangely silent. I have no apologies, but maybe an explanation is in order. Here goes.

I have been mildly depressed since, oh, about New Year's Day. I remember having a day off for the holiday. I was home alone. I felt sick (because this cute little brown eyed blonde girl infected me with a cold that turned into a beast of a sinus infection). I had only been back home a couple of days after spending time with my family. I was feeling lonely, which is not too normal for me. And it hit me that I didn't feel like doing anything besides sleep.

And I'm still kind of in that place. I'm not sad. I'm taking care of myself. I'm going to work and spending time with friends and just generally loving life.  But when I get home at the end of the day, I don't want to do anything.

I do think a lot of my problem has to do with the winter. It's cold. I get home and get cold and just want to lie down. My depression isn't a sad sort of depression. It's an apathetic depression, which might be worse.

And on top of that, I've been super sensitive. An innocent comment can turn me into an emotional wreck. If I even think that someone might possibly disapprove of me or of what I do, it makes me paranoid and defensive. If I fail, I'm super critical of myself. And I've really had to fight against that sort of mindset lately.

And then one day, maybe a few weeks ago, it hit me what was really going on. There's a lot of good stuff going on right now. God's been teaching me more about what it means to be burdened for others. God has been working in me and through me in lots of little ways. I've got a fundraising 15 mile run lined up for April. The funds are going towards an overseas mission trip, which I'm excited, honored, and completely terrified to be a part of. I'm terrified because I'm pretty sure the things I'll be doing on the trip will be things I never thought I'd do before--like public speaking and teaching and...stuff. But God's showing me that there's things He has for me that are so beyond my expectations of myself. ...I mean, there was a time when I thought I was bad with kids...lol. Who knows what other ways I could be wrong about myself? Bottom line, God's got some big stuff to do in me and through me.

And Satan doesn't like it. And Satan has been throwing his best stuff at me. He's hitting me in my insecurities. He's throwing apathy at me. He's trying to make me sin by not trusting, by disobeying, by looking for fulfillment in things besides God. I'm not just saying "The devil made me do it." I'm at fault for my own sin. But I'm not blind to the fact that Satan is trying to keep me out of what God is doing. Which must mean that something awesome is about to happen.

Satan is a sore loser.

I'm learning right now that one of Satan's favorite tactics is the half truth. He loves them. In fact, I think a lot of people are going to go to hell because they believe half truths.  People believe God is loving, and He is, but they fail to see that He is also holy. People believe that God is good, and He is, but they fail to see that He is also just. People believe that we're supposed to love our neighbor, but neglect to understand that love doesn't mean you stand idly by while people sin. And these are crafty little half truths that keep us from the whole truth that will set us free. Satan's been using them for a long time. In the garden of Eden he asked Eve, "Did God really say you can't eat any fruit? You won't die if you eat it. You'll have knowledge. You'll be like God." ...he told part of the truth while blatantly lying about the rest. "Did God really say...?" That's how he works.

And lately Satan has told me many half truths. "You're not enough. You can't help your friends who are hurting. You can't bear their pain. You can't heal their wounds. You make too many mistakes. You fuss at kids. You don't teach your preschool class as well as you should. You don't teach your Sunday school class well. You are awkward. You can't do anything right. You have hangups about a lot of things. People don't understand you. You're backwards. You waste time. You sin. You pursue things besides God. You fail. You mess up. You aren't worthy of grace. You. Are. Not. Enough."

Satan said, and is still saying, all those things to me. And it's easy to listen because, well, he's right. The things Satan sometimes tells us are true, but not the whole truth.

I'm not enough. That is undeniably true. But the whole truth is, God IS enough. Through my sin, through my failures, through my weakness, HE IS GOD. And nothing can separate me from His love. If I run away, even if I could run fast, He's fast enough to catch me.  Even if I fail, He is powerful enough to redeem. Even if I rise on the wings of the dawn or settle on the far side of the sea, even there His hand will guide me, and His right hand will hold me fast.

Satan tells me a lot of half truths. He tells me I'm not enough. But I know the whole truth, and it does set me free. The truth is, I don't have to be enough, because God is enough.

And Satan is going to keep throwing his best stuff at me. Some days will be better than others. But the battle for me has already been won. If Satan is after me, well, so is God. And He's stronger, and He's smarter, and He knows me perfectly. And still loves me. You're right, Satan. I'm not worthy. But God's worth confounds my worthlessness. His love conquered death. That power is at work in me.

I'm going to get through this rough time. Hopefully spring will help chase away the blahs, or maybe I'll just have to wait for a more figurative spring. Either way, I'm thankful for even this season. The daffodils are blooming even in the ice and cold and snow. By His grace, I think I am too.

Sunday Sum-Up: Giving Grace

I really never intended to talk about God so much in this blog.  It's not that I ever wanted to purposefully shy away from my relationship with God/Jesus here, but I never purposed for this blog to be so close to my faith.  It's just very hard for me to separate my writing from my beliefs, and vice versa.  I guess it's a good sign that I can't compartmentalize; Christ isn't just a part of my life.  He's everything.  And while sometimes I can blog about something without bringing my faith into it, it's exceptionally difficult (or perhaps impossible) to talk about what's going on in my life without bragging on God.  Because the Lord is the One who is leading me through my life right now, and He's teaching me far more than I deserve to learn.

A theme that keeps popping up right now is grace.  And grace is a weighty term, hard to define, even harder to accept and express.  Maybe it should be simple, but because we're complicated people, we tend to make even the simplest concepts difficult.  The grace of God is free, and yet so many people can't accept it.  People can't even accept the reality of a gracious God, or they can't accept the goodness of a gracious God, or they can't accept that grace is really free apart from human effort, or they can't accept that free grace could be for a sinful person.  And while I could camp out on that for a while, that's really not what I want to focus on here, not because it's not important, but because it's really not what I'm struggling and striving with right now.

I know God is gracious.  I know that His grace is free.  I know that it's His good pleasure to give that grace to sinners--sinners like me.  And it's one thing to sit here and blog about being a sinner saved by grace; it's a totally different thing to live that out.  God's been patiently, graciously teaching me that everything He allows to happen in my life--everything--is a chance to love others and a chance to trust Him.  But once again, it's one thing to blog about that, and another thing to live it out. 

I'm blogging about this as my weekly sum-up because the Lord's been working on this concept of giving grace to others, and this week He's really brought all that to a crux.  I went to one of those preschool teacher workday things, expecting to hear about different ways to help children learn and grow.  I was actually expecting it to be boring and generally not useful to my life.  Instead, our director talked to us about communicating love and grace to one another.  And it went along perfectly with everything the Lord's been teaching me.  ...and it humbled me.

Then I read a blog post entitled "I'm Christian, Unless You're Gay" , and I was floored.  The author isn't a Christian, but he gets something that a lot of Christians seem to miss.  Now, I don't agree with every statement he made, nor do I think that homosexuality is okay (just to clarify, I don't hate gays; in fact, I have some gay friends.  I believe practicing homosexuality is a sin--just like any other sin--which is something that is contrary to the will of God--and I'm definitely a sinner in need of grace just like everyone else), but I admire and respect the guy who wrote this blog.  First off, he was respectful, yet honest.  Second, he stated his main point clearly without allowing himself to be drawn away to any arguments that were secondary to his main point: that no one is perfect and that everyone needs love.  As far as his blog post goes, it doesn't matter if his readers think that homosexuality is a sin or not; the point is, we're all imperfect people, and we all need love.

And I'm not about to go start holding up signs that say "God Hates Fags," but if I were really honest with myself, I'm pretty sure that sometimes I'm holding up an invisible sign that says, "The way you're dressed makes me uncomfortable," or "The fact that you just ran a red light means I have the right to honk my horn and yell at you," or "The language you're using makes me not want to associate with you." 

Where do I get the idea that some sins are worse than others?  Where do I get the idea that I'm more righteous than others?  How can I so easily accept the free grace of God without giving it just as freely to others? 

But I'm not the only one who does it.  I'm not justifying myself.  I'm not trying to judge others.  I'm just stating a fact.  I know I'm not the only one who does it because God/Jesus/The Holy Spirit saw/sees a need to speak again and again to the self-righteousness of humanity.

The bottom line?  We're all children.  I work with kids.  What are they like?  They can be sweet and tender.  They're a great joy to me.  But honestly, children are often childish (imagine that).  If I ask a child to clean something up, the #1 response I get is, "But I didn't make the mess!"  And that's a ridiculous attitude, but recently I discovered that grown-ups act the same way.  If I see something out of place in the preschool storage room, instead of simply putting it away, I mentally tell myself, "Whoever took it out should put it away.  It's not my responsibility."  And everyone has that attitude, so as a result, the misplaced item never gets put in its place.  So someone gets upset because the room eventually gets messy.  Then the grumbling starts.  Wouldn't it be easier to just clean up one another's messes?  Wouldn't it be easier to GET OVER OURSELVES and show a little grace?

If I sound preachy, it's because I'm preaching to myself.  I have been given so much grace.  I can't hoard that grace; I need to give it to others.  The thing that keeps me from loving my neighbor: pride.  Selfishness.  Fear that I'll not have enough for myself.  I'd be much better off forgetting myself.  And doing this is impossible in my own power. 

Ironically, the only way I can be gracious is to receive grace.  And, praise the Lord, He is faithful.  He does give more grace.

I could go on and on, but I'm going to leave you with the incredible words of James.  I'm posting the entire chapter of James 4, because it's all pertaining to what I've said here.  We need to get over ourselves and our selfish desires.  We need to rely on the grace of God.  We need to humble ourselves and boast only in the Lord.  It's easy to look down on others for the wicked things they do, but sometimes we're even more guilty because there is good that we can do, there are people we can love, and when we fail to love, we sin.

"What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you?  You want something but don’t get it. You kill and covet, but you cannot have what you want. You quarrel and fight. You do not have, because you do not ask God.  When you ask, you do not receive, because you ask with wrong motives, that you may spend what you get on your pleasures. You adulterous people, don’t you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God. Or do you think Scripture says without reason that the spirit he caused to live in us envies intensely? But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says:
'God opposes the proud
but gives grace to the humble.'
Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Grieve, mourn and wail. Change your laughter to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up. Brothers, do not slander one another. Anyone who speaks against his brother or judges him speaks against the law and judges it. When you judge the law, you are not keeping it, but sitting in judgment on it. There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy. But you—who are you to judge your neighbor? Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord’s will, we will live and do this or that.' As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil. Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins." --James 4

I'm going to say just one thing more.  I've had several conversations about my new blog project this week.  I'm still working on it, still praying about it, still planning and getting excited.  The thing is, all this stuff that the Lord is graciously teaching me is really applicable to my blog.  That's just really neat to me, how the Lord is working and bringing things together, just at the right time.  God is so good.