Laughing in the Dark (repost)

Five years ago today, I recovered from what I believe to have been a case of clinical depression. This post was made right here a week or two afterward, when I finally realized what had happened and felt comfortable enough to describe it here. I had also started a private blog to record "good days" and "bad days" - this past week I've re-posted them here (here's the first one). It was my own case of "rising from the dead" - in the throes of clinical depression, you do not feel sad. You do not feel anything. Coming out of it is surely an emotional resurrection! Today as we are all celebrating the resurrection of our Savior from the dead, I am also celebrating the anniversary of the work He did in my life, bringing me back from the brink of disaster. Thank You so much for both resurrections, Jesus!

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4/10/2008 12:11am

Not too long ago, after a series of financial challenges, I realized that I was suffering from a pretty severe depression. I looked up "clinical depression" on Wikipedia and a few other sites, and discovered that I was experiencing all of the classic signs of clinical depression with the exception that I was not gaining or losing weight, and I did not want to kill myself (I honestly wonder if the latter was the grace of God sparing me that turmoil). I immediately began to make plans to see my doctor, and then I promoted a book from my "read-it-someday" list to my "read it NOW" list: Laughing in the Dark: A Comedian's Journey through Depression by Chonda Pierce. I had watched one of Chonda's comedy DVDs a few months before, and I don't remember where I first heard that she had gone through a period of depression and written a book about it, but it may have been that DVD.

Anyway, my episode of serious depression ended abruptly one Sunday during worship time at my church. I consider it a miracle healing; I was seriously depressed in a way I have never been before. There is being depressed, and there is clinical depression, and they are similar in name only... clinical depression is far beyond just being unhappy. But even though I believed I had received healing from the Lord (and I still do believe that and I still feel OK!) I went ahead and read the book anyway, and I was not disappointed. Chonda is open and honest about her experience, which was much worse than mine (she had physical symptoms that resembled a heart attack, and was medicated for many months afterward), but in every chapter she is able to add just enough humor to keep things light without becoming flippant. Every chapter focuses on something that was a major stage in her recovery... getting the diagnosis right, getting the medication right, getting back to work (as a depressed comedienne!), getting off her meds too early, and on and on. Each chapter ends with an email sent to Chonda by a fan who heard her talk about her ordeal from the stage, and then a few pages of more detailed information related to the chapter from a psychotherapist. I enjoyed all of the book, but I have two favorite parts. One of my two favorite parts is a section where Chonda learns that just like a sunset is still beautiful whether it affects you emotionally or not, God is still there whether you feel His presence or not (it's the last 8 pages of chapter 4). My other favorite part is a quote from a master of dry humor. This is the quote, which is the lead-in to chapter 8:

I've had a wonderful time, but this wasn't it.
—Groucho Marx
I found the book enlightening, informative, encouraging, and enjoyable. (And every word in that list started with a vowel and the letter "n" woo-hoo!) I was able to identify with all but the worst of her symptoms, and I believe I have a much better understanding of serious depression than I ever had before, after experiencing my own short battle with it and reading about Chonda's longer battle.

I want to add a message to anyone reading this who has been in a depressed fog for more than a week or two. Don't wait to go see your doctor. If you have been depressed every day for all or most of the day for more than a couple of weeks, call right now and make an appointment. Don't be embarrassed, don't be nervous, and don't let yourself feel stigmatized. And don't put it off because you think you can handle it on your own. In recent years I have known two people who fell into the dark pit that had opened up inside of them and took their own lives, rocking the lives of their family and friends and, in one case, apparently inspiring the suicide of a loved one. Clinical depression is very treatable, either via counseling or medication or both, but if you don't see a professional you won't get the care you need. Don't play with your life; get help from someone. I know if I ever enter the fog again, I'll call my doctor right away. If you think you might be there but aren't sure, pick up a copy of Chonda's book. Her prologue description of the gray hotel with the "talking light" may help you get your mind around your own feelings and help you make the decision whether you need to seek treatment, or just a little bit of sunshine and your favorite song on the headphones.

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A few final thoughts about my bout with depression. This was not something that attacked me on its own and that I was powerless to resist. I can't speak for everyone who has ever faced depression, but I know that in my case, it started because I was feeling sorry for myself and I chose to wallow in that self-pity. I chose it! I did not choose what came later, but like an addiction where you smoke the first joint or drink the first beer, at first I actually could have turned my back on it. But instead I went deeper in. My depression was self-inflicted, like someone who tries to cure an emotional hurt by physically injuring himself. Later on it was different; I couldn't get out of it without help. Then I was lost... never lost from Salvation in Christ, but emotionally lost. I couldn't find my way. I fully believe that coming out of it for me was a miraculous healing; outside of what God did for me that day, my solution would have required medical/psychological therapy. As I said in the above post: if this resonates with you, don't wait to get help. Pray for God's help, absolutely, but then find a doctor, or a psychologist, or at least an empathetic friend who will find you one or the other. Your miracle may require a little more human intervention than mine did. But however your recovery happens, God is with you in it. Here are a couple of Scriptures you might keep in your back pocket as you proceed with your healing:

For thus says the One who is high and lifted up,

who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy:

“I dwell in the high and holy place,

and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit,

to revive the spirit of the lowly,

and to revive the heart of the contrite.” - Isaiah 57:15, ESV

The Lord is near to the brokenhearted

and saves the crushed in spirit. - Psalm 34:18, ESV

If you've missed any of the posts this week, I invite you to start with the first post in this series here and experience the whole week's worth of entries.

Happy April Fool's Day

Five years ago this coming Easter Sunday, I recovered from what I believe to have been a case of clinical depression. This is the fifth post I wrote back then on a private blog about what was going on. For more details, see the first post in this series. And the rest: 2 - 3 - 4

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4/1/2008 10:15am

Today I feel tired, but not depressed. No feeling that nothing matters at all; only a feeling that things matter but I would like to sleep through them! It points up for me the fact that last week I truly was in the grip of something really bad. I've heard and read people's accounts of depression (in fact, I'm about to get Chonda Pierce's book about her bout with depression from the library) but until I got a personal taste of depression I'm not sure I really took it 100% seriously. Not that I ever laughed it off... far from it... but the way people describe it sounds pretty melodramatic. My first post here and some of the other "bad day" posts probably sound that way. Trust me, they are NOT being melodramatic. It's really like that.


Start with the first post in this series here, or continue with the next post here. 

Great weekend!

Five years ago this coming Easter Sunday, I recovered from what I believe to have been a case of clinical depression. This is the fourth post I wrote back then on a private blog about what was going on. For more details, see the first post in this series. And the rest: 2 - 3

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3/31/2008 7:00am

This weekend was wonderful! Outside of the death of our refrigerator (which I mentioned in the post previous to this one) the blessing of being led to the brand-new refrigerator which we bought for a price that even WE could afford, and then an awesome Sunday morning pair of services and a great Sunday School and then a (mostly) relaxing Sunday afternoon (in which I almost finished defeating Paper Mario 2 (that darn Bowser!) have me feeling pretty good this Monday morning. I did not get up and go to the gym today... I got up at 3:30 to give the baby a bottle and turned on the weather, and it was one of those tornadoes-knocking-at-the-door mornings we get in the Oklahoma springtime. Turns out the twisters were in the neighborhood but not ringing the doorbell... I think the closest they came was at least 15-20 miles away. I'm not sure we even got very much rain, although we did get some lightning and thunder. Anyway, I was beat anyway from a kind of late night, so instead of trying to tough it out and passing out on a treadmill or something, I decided to get an hour and a half more sleep. And I'm glad I did.

That late night... I actually got in bed around 9pm or so, which is decidedly not a late night for me and my wife, but then she came in and we talked for a little while. During the day two things happened that she was upset about... the oven isn't working to her satisfaction and probably needs repair (the pilot light is on but it's not heating up like it's supposed to), and I discovered that someone has misplaced the hardware we need to put our crib back together. When my son was 5-6 years old and had clearly outgrown the crib, we actually gave it away to some friends who had a new baby but no baby bed. When we had our new baby girl they gifted it back to us, but it's been sitting up in her room not put together because she's been sleeping in a bassinet. Well, there have been a number of people over at our house messing around in the baby room... my wife is terminally impatient and so I put up with her calling her friends over to half-do stuff in my house sometimes. For example, they painted the walls pink... up to about 2 inches from the ceiling. Nobody has been back to finish whatever the heck they were trying to do. There is an ugly metal rack shelf hanging off the wall, half-attached. Then there's the crib, which was brought back but not put back together. It's been so long since I put it together... in fact, come to think of it, I don't think I was actually the person who put it together in the first place, but if I did it was eight years ago. They didn't bring back the instructions, and either my wife or someone else who was in the baby room apparently threw away the bolts and other hardware we need to set the thing up. Either that or our friends didn't bring the hardware back, but they promise that they did so likely the hardware is either thrown out (seems unlikely that someone would throw away was was probably a pretty heavy bag full of new-looking metal bolts and stuff) or lost.

Anyway, my wife took the opportunity to plunge into a depression. I don't think she's medically depressed, but she is hanging on to a very downbeat view of the world. She constantly says negative things about our neighborhood, our house, people we know, people we don't know, the neighbors we don't know, the few neighbors we do know, people of other races, and the world in general. She talks to people about our neighborhood, and when she recounts the conversations to me, she puts words in their mouth that are far more negative than what the people said (I caught her doing that one time this weekend and called her on it). Anyway, the oven and the crib were apparently enough to plunge her into the depths of despair, even though both problems can be easily remedied with just a few hundred dollars. We don't really have a spare few hundred dollars, but it's not the same as being out on the street. Replacement hardware can most likely be purchased (she actually knows who to call for that) and it's not unlikely that the oven just needs a new thermostat or something. But she was crying, so we talked in bed for a while until she felt a little better. In light of some of the reading I've done lately, I asked her if she had been feeling suicidal... that's the real red light that means you have a problem and need to see a doctor right away. She has not, so I think she's probably just down, not clinically depressed. Unless it gets a lot worse, I won't recommend a doctor.

As for me... I feel so much better today that I wonder if either I was just in a particularly ugly doldrum the other day, or maybe I received a healing from God this weekend. Either is possible. It is also possible that I'm just in a momentary peak that will go away. However, I do still intend to get out to the gym frequently while the membership is there, and I also intend to give myself some more regular diet of the Word of God. It is powerful and alive. It brings life. I think it can bring life to me. If I fall back into depression I will not hesitate to talk to my doctor, but I'm going to wait and see for a while. The last thing I want to do is give my wife ANOTHER thing to worry about.


Start with the first post in this series here, or continue with the next post here.

Refrigerator Sunday

Five years ago this coming Easter Sunday, I recovered from what I believe to have been a case of clinical depression. This is the third post I wrote back then on a private blog about what was going on. For more details, see the first post in this series, and here's a link to the second post.

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3/30/2008 5:38am

It's Sunday morning early, and I actually feel pretty good. I feel pretty normal, as a matter of fact. Maybe it has something to do with our refrigerator.

Yesterday morning I woke up feeling NOT normal. I felt depressed. Then our fridge, the one that was in this house when we moved in, tanked on us. It's been having death rattles for a few days, but yesterday morning it defrosted our frozens and we knew it was time to get it replaced. Problem was, we have very little cash on hand... I have like $150 in the bank. Plus we've been having some serious struggles keeping bills paid lately because of some keeping-the-checkbook-current problems (this financial mess is a real contributor to my moods lately) so I figured we wouldn't be able to get credit to get one at a regular store like Sears or Lowe's or Home Depot or whatever. Cathy checked around by phone for some used fridge places, but came up dry, so after my son's soccer game we went to see what would happen if we looked at the stores. On the way to Home Depot we prayed... Cathy prayed. I told her either we were going to have to resolve to take what we could get, or we were going to have to pray for the Holy Spirit's help in finding what we want for a price we could afford.

So we went to two Lowe's and one Home Depot, then we went to a Maytag outlet store that we had passed on the way to Home Depot. We didn't really see anything we were particularly stunned with at the hardware stores, but at the Maytag store we found two identical beautiful blemished-in-some-way-we-couldn't-even-find fridges marked down from almost $900 before tax to just under $600 counting the tax! The signs said financing 90 days same as cash; we figured we could tighten our belts somehow and come up with the $200 each month. But when the salesman ran our credit, not only did they give us a credit line that would have bought any fridge in the store if we had wanted, they gave us twelve months same as cash! I'm pretty positive I can come up with fifty bucks a month (to avoid the 22% interest if we go over teh 12 months WHEW!). We would have had to wait several days for them to deliver it, so we borrowed my father-in-law's truck and brought it home ourselves. My dad helped me unload and get it into the house.

So maybe the reason I feel good this morning is the physical exertion yesterday, in which case I really need to start getting my butt back to the gym. I'm going to try doing cardio every day next week and see what happens (I'll go easy on myself to start... every day but a light workout). Maybe it's partly because God clearly answered our prayer with the fridge, which is even bigger and nicer than the old one. Maybe it's because it's Sunday and time for singing! Maybe I've blown a few days' bad moods out of proportion... I hope that's the case but I think maybe it's not. All I can do is wait and see!


Start with the first post in this series here, or continue with the next post here. 

Songwriting

Five years ago this coming Easter Sunday, I recovered from what I believe to have been a case of clinical depression. This is the second post I wrote back then on a private blog about what was going on. For more details, see the first post in this series.

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3/29/2008 2:25am

Tonight we were at a monthly meeting for songwriters that we have with some people in our church worship arts department. My wife and I are active members in our church choir, up in front of people every week, smiling and singing and weeping and whatever else happens in the worship service each week. You would think, considering the mood I've been in for some time, that the "weeping" part would come much more easily to me than the "rejoicing" part, but the fact is that I've had no trouble worshiping God joyfully in all this. In fact, worship times at church are almost the only thing I still have some enthusiasm for... most everything else I'm just like, meh.

Anyway, so here I am at home. My almost-eight-year-old son has been put to bed (he was grouchy because it's late), and my baby went to bed a few minutes ago with my wife. I'm all alone here in the living room, and the empty feeling has rushed back on me. Tonight as we were with friends, singing our songs (I sang two of mine which are both pretty ballads) and visiting and having a good time, I didn't notice it as much, although it was still there if I thought about it. But now alone, here it is again.

You might wonder how I could possibly write anything except melancholy stuff in the state I'm in. Well... keep in mind that I don't feel the weight of depression 100% of the time. There are times (especially during church services) when it lifts somewhat and I get a breath of fresh air. And things that are true are true always, whether I'm feeling numb about them or not. The only problem the moods are causing... okay, maybe this is two related problems... is that I've started second-guessing my own lyrics because I'm afraid I'm writing my depression into them, and I lose confidence in and enthusiasm for my own new songs within days of writing them. An example of the first: in one of the songs I wrote tonight there is a line, sung to God, that says "Only You can cure what I've got." The line is a pretty straightforward thought about salvation/redemption/spiritual healing, that sort of thing. But I keep wondering if I subconsciously wrote my own depression into the song. Seems like I'm taking my lyrics a little too personally, as if I'm reading my own mail to people. Personal lyrics are a good thing, but I almost feel like I'm invading my own privacy.

My recent lyrics, particularly the two songs I sang tonight, have frankly been some of my best-ever work. On one level, I guess an intellectual level, I'm very proud of them. On an emotional level, I'm so not-emoting that I don't really know how I feel about them. I can't tell if I feel happy with them or not. I don't really feel happy about much of anything.

I haven't really written a song that is specifically about being depressed. I did read a book by Michael Card about a year or so ago that had a section about songs of lament, noting how many of those are in the Bible and wondering if there isn't a real void in the art within the modern church that can be filled by them. So maybe I should write something about my depression. I probably will, although it probably won't be tonight. :) I did start a song a few weeks ago when Christian rock pioneer Larry Norman passed away, and if I had known then what I know now about clinical depression, reading my own lyrics then would have set off the alarms:

Another brother has taken flight
Present in a world of endless light
Absent from a world of creeping black
One-way ticket, no flight back

Standing against the evil tide
With all my loved ones by my side
I'm a fortunate man, a favored son
Still, I'll be glad when my time has come

That was intended as the first verse, with the chorus ending with the line "If I could be where he is." The idea was to write a song about the longing every Christian has to be with God. It came off sounding almost suicidal, now that I look back at it. I wrote that on February 25, which was almost five weeks ago. I didn't realize I had been that bad off for that long.


Start with the first post in this series here, or continue with the next post here.

Welcome to the Wasteland

Five years ago this coming Sunday, I recovered from what I am positive was a diagnosable case of clinical depression. This is the kind of thing that people don't just pull out of like a airplane pulling out of a dive... this was clearly a miracle. When I realized that for some time I had been depressed in a way that was different from just having a bad day, or week, or month... that I was depressed in a way that I couldn't just "cheer up" from... I started a private blog about it, with the intention that if I ever became suicidal and succeeded in ending my own life, my family would know why. This week I've decided to finally make those private blog posts public; maybe they will give others hope that there can be light at the end of the tunnel.

Here's the first post on the blog which I had entitled "Up From The Wasteland".

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3/28/2008 11:00am

Yesterday I realized that I most probably am suffering from clinical depression.

I knew I had been down for quite some time... a number of years, in fact, probably since sometime in 2002. I had been laid off in late 2001 in a round of massive layoffs as the company I worked for struggled to survive in the wake of a long series of poor choices by management. At first I was pretty upbeat, thinking I would be working again very soon, but by the middle of the year I was crying out to God that I didn't understand why I hadn't found a job yet and wouldn't He help me find one because my unemployment checks were running out? Anyway, that's a story for another post. This post is about the past three days.

Wednesday night as I was listening to my pastor's message I realized that I didn't care if I lived or died. Not that I wanted to die, because I absolutely do not. In the past few years I have seen the aftermath of several suicides, and I don't want to be the cause of that kind of suffering for my loved ones... again, that's for another blog post. But the idea of some horrible catastrophe happening and me being wiped off the face of the earth, or some illness doing me in... except for the pain that would likely accompany those things, the idea of dying didn't bother me any more. Now, as a Christian I know that death is a defeated enemy and not to be feared, but death is an enemy and is to be at least resisted. I think that's the problem... I don't know if I have the resistance in me. It was like I was ready to go, and I wasn't even sick.

Then yesterday I got to thinking... maybe I WAS sick. I hopped on the Wikipedia article about clinical depression... that van Gogh picture is positively creepy to me, which maybe is another sign that I need help... and made myself an informal checklist of the list of symptoms they have there. Of about 15 symptoms I found listed, I have all but three, one of which is the "converse" of one which I have so that one probably doesn't count, so I appear to have twelve out of the fourteen symptoms. From there I went to the National Alliance on Mental Illness Web site and read some of their material, then I went to my health insurance provider's Web site and read about what they have for depression (which may have been a poor move if they are monitoring what their customers do on their Web site, but oh well). They had a link to The Reawakening Center, which I followed and took their little self-assessment tool. I scored a 16; the results page says that if your score is higher than five you may have clinical depression. It's hard to ignore the signs: if I go to someone who is qualified to make a diagnosis, I almost certainly will be recommended for treatment. The only bright spot is that I honestly am not suicidal.

The key question here is: for how long am I not suicidal? I read yesterday that the reason drug treatments sometimes result in suicide is that the willingness to take action returns before the depression abates... so the person who has been sad but lethargic is suddenly sad and ready to do something about it. If I get on antidepressants, will that happen to me? I don't know, and nobody really does until you try. That's why you have to be closely monitored if you start taking that stuff.

And back to the how long aspect... as a child and teenager I did have thoughts about suicide from time to time. I never made an attempt; I don't know if that was because of good sense or because of lack of courage, but for whatever reason, I never actually tried anything. But like a recovered alcoholic, that aspect of my personality may still lurk somewhere, and if that beast still lives, I don't want to go into its cave and wake it up without backup.

This blog is, at this writing, private. Nobody but me can view it (well, me and probably the techs at Google, I suppose, if they wanted something to chuckle about). I hope that one day there will be a happy ending to the story and I am able to make it public. That's why I've called the blog "Up From The Wasteland" and why I've put the lyrics to the AD song by the same name in the sidebar. Call it a "faith statement" if you will. It's my way of reaching out for some hope. Also, if the worst should happen and I descend into a mental illness that drives me to something terrible, I will myself to remember to make a final post and make this blog public then, too. If I don't make it through this, I want the tale to be told. I'm being totally honest here, and this world needs all the total honesty it can get. Maybe, one way or another, my story will help someone deal with the spectres in his or her own mind.

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Be sure to come back all this week to read the rest of this story. Fortunately for me, it has a happy ending! Continue with the next post here.

Laughing in the Dark

Not too long ago, after a series of financial challenges, I realized that I was suffering from a pretty severe depression. I looked up "clinical depression" on Wikipedia and a few other sites, and discovered that I was experiencing all of the classic signs of clinical depression with the exception that I was not gaining or losing weight, and I did not want to kill myself (I honestly wonder if the latter was the grace of God sparing me that turmoil). I immediately began to make plans to see my doctor, and then I promoted a book from my "read-it-someday" list to my "read it NOW" list: Laughing in the Dark: A Comedian's Journey through Depression by Chonda Pierce. I had watched one of Chonda's comedy DVDs a few months before, and I don't remember where I first heard that she had gone through a period of depression and written a book about it, but it may have been that DVD.

Anyway, my episode of serious depression ended abruptly one Sunday during worship time at my church. I consider it a miracle healing; I was seriously depressed in a way I have never been before. There is being depressed, and there is clinical depression, and they are similar in name only... clinical depression is far beyond just being unhappy. But even though I believed I had received healing from the Lord (and I still do believe that and I still feel OK!) I went ahead and read the book anyway, and I was not disappointed. Chonda is open and honest about her experience, which was much worse than mine (she had physical symptoms that resembled a heart attack, and was medicated for many months afterward), but in every chapter she is able to add just enough humor to keep things light without becoming flippant. Every chapter focuses on something that was a major stage in her recovery... getting the diagnosis right, getting the medication right, getting back to work (as a depressed comedienne!), getting off her meds too early, and on and on. Each chapter ends with an email sent to Chonda by a fan who heard her talk about her ordeal from the stage, and then a few pages of more detailed information related to the chapter from a psychotherapist. I enjoyed all of the book, but I have two favorite parts. One of my two favorite parts is a section where Chonda learns that just like a sunset is still beautiful whether it affects you emotionally or not, God is still there whether you feel His presence or not (it's the last 8 pages of chapter 4). My other favorite part is a quote from a master of dry humor. This is the quote, which is the lead-in to chapter 8:

I've had a wonderful time, but this wasn't it.
—Groucho Marx

I found the book enlightening, informative, encouraging, and enjoyable. (And every word in that list started with a vowel and the letter "n" woo-hoo!) I was able to identify with all but the worst of her symptoms, and I believe I have a much better understanding of serious depression than I ever had before, after experiencing my own short battle with it and reading about Chonda's longer battle.

I want to add a message to anyone reading this who has been in a depressed fog for more than a week or two. Don't wait to go see your doctor. If you have been depressed every day for all or most of the day for more than a couple of weeks, call right now and make an appointment. Don't be embarrassed, don't be nervous, and don't let yourself feel stigmatized. And don't put it off because you think you can handle it on your own. In recent years I have known two people who fell into the dark pit that had opened up inside of them and took their own lives, rocking the lives of their family and friends and, in one case, apparently inspiring the suicide of a loved one. Clinical depression is very treatable, either via counseling or medication or both, but if you don't see a professional you won't get the care you need. Don't play with your life; get help from someone. I know if I ever enter the fog again, I'll call my doctor right away. If you think you might be there but aren't sure, pick up a copy of Chonda's book. Her prologue description of the gray hotel with the "talking light" may help you get your mind around your own feelings and help you make the decision whether you need to seek treatment, or just a little bit of sunshine and your favorite song on the headphones.