So, I’ve been thinking, and becoming depressed, about depression lately.
I have known depression twice in my life, but I didn’t recognize it as depression until reflecting upon it later. Thankfully, I do not live in that dark place often.
Prompted by the death of Robin Williams this week, we are all thinking about the topic.
I think depression is one of those self-centered maladies which enters our existence when we get overwhelmed by circumstances outside our control, and internalize them to the point where we can’t cope with the causes we’re trying to ignore.
When I find myself listing things that are “wrong” with my life, I can easily spiral downward in my attitudes. The first time I noticed this, I had just moved to Cedar Rapids, Iowa from Florida. I had left a meaningful job, my kids were well-adjusted and happy, my house was decorated the way I liked it, we were involved in starting a new church plant, I had close friendships, and felt confident in the future.
My mother was dealing with cancer. That was a big negative. I was four hours away, Melbourne to Ft. Myers. That was difficult.
Then, we moved to Cedar Rapids. I could not find a job. My kids had to begin in a new place where their considerable musical talents were not immediately recognized. The house we bought needed all kinds of work, much of which I felt unable to accomplish. I immediately had to return to Ft. Myers to deal with Mom’s final days, death, and executing her will to distribute her things and settle her affairs, entirely alone. I had to get recertified to teach in Iowa, which meant taking two Mickey Mouse courses at University of Iowa at a cost of $1000 we didn’t have. I began suffering from allergies I didn’t even know I had. I found it difficult to make new friends in a very parochial place, where outsiders were treated with suspicion and even contempt, and we faced horrible weather we had not experiences for some ten years of warmth and sunshine in Florida.
That was when I realized I was depressed.
This summer, I have experienced a mini-version. This time, it is because of things affecting my world in a different way. No one besides me probably knows it. My husband has no clue how to relate to me, what I’m feeling, what I need. He answers in one word, usually “No” and rarely confides in me or carries on a conversation. My kids treat me with deference, usually telling me I’m wrong, or that my opinions don’t matter. I feel isolated, and that hurts. Then there’s the other stuff. First, the news reports about wars, disasters, evil. I internalize those things. Second, there has been division in our church and many of my friends have left. I feel that they have been amputated from my body. Because we’re older, even though we have built this church and are responsible for many of its ministries, we are told directly and indirectly, we don’t matter. That hurts. Relationships are strained. Health has been a big problem: mine, Ev’s, Kaley’s, Emily’s, Nancy’s weight and poor attitude. When we don’t feel well, we have trouble coping. This was the one-year anniversary of LJ’s death, and my siblings are suffering. I have had struggles with a kidney stone, six months of agony. My husband is facing surgery in a few weeks.Friends have been ill, yet another friend has been diagnosed with cancer, and I’ve been taking over tasks for them, provising meals, and coming alongside. That takes a great deal of energy when I’m now 74. I think I can, I think I can, but really, I just can’t. My house is in shambles because we are finally getting the flooring done. There is not one place in my home that is settle right now.My garden needs constant attention, and physically, I just can’t do it all. Finally, my kids have been in a desperate situation this summer, in temporary housing, their house closing delayed, health concerns about my grandbabies, and my daughter Nancy has just spend an entire summer in our home watching television. I miss seeing my grandbabies. Our weekly babysitting was a joy to my life. This summer, I have been mostly cut off, and when they come here, it’s for a meal, then bedtime. No quality time at all. No snuggle time. No expriencing the joy of their exploring the world and all it has to offer. I am lonely. I feel overwhelmed.
Today I finished reading Jeremiah on my journey through reading the Bible yet again. Just when I thought I couldn’t stomach another piece of depression, I turned the page to the next book: Lamentations.
How do I deal with depression? First, without my faith in an eternal God who girds me up and tells me He loves me, I couldn’t. I know of His faithfulness; I trust in His direction; I call on His Name to strengthen me. The hardest part of dealing with depression is that I just plain don’t feel like doing anything. The tasks around me are so overwhelming, I can’t even get started on them. So, today, I will tackle another task, as I did yesterday, filling boxes which are stacked everywhere possible so that the carpet can be torn up and new flooring put down. I will go to hubby’s appointment this afternoon to deal with his surgery, rehab, recovery etc. next week. I will prepared meals in advance so that task is done. I will encourage our kids who have returned to their teaching duties for the new year. I will move furniture so I have some semblance of order I crave, and I will send off another piece of writing that probably no one will read, just like the three books I’ve already published. And I will, and do, pray for strength for yet another day.
It does no good to notice that others are in far worse situations than I am. I have enough to deal with today. But, I will live with Lamentations 3:22-23, sing the song in my heart that has been put to these words, and hope that this will temper the other emotions I’m feeling right now:
“I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion. Therefore, I will wait for Him.”
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