Depression Monster Redux

Did a lot of self-quoting in this evening’s Examiner column. I wanted to do one about Christians and depression, which led me to the post I wrote here about depression earlier this year.

Christians versus the depression monster

In medical circles, high blood pressure is called the silent killer as its effects are imperceptible until heart attack or stroke occur as a result of its presence.

For Christians, the silent killer is depression.

Depression is seldom talked about by believers. It’s far too often seen as something of which to be ashamed. How can I be depressed, the thought process goes. I have Jesus in my life. I have Christ in my heart. I have the Holy Spirit living in me. How could I possibly be depressed? It must be something else. A lack of faith, possibly. Unconfessed sin. It can’t be depression. There must be something wrong with me.

Which is the truth.

There is something wrong with you.

Your brain doesn’t produce sufficient serotonin to keep you on an even keel.

Depression is often — not always, but often — a medical condition. There are treatments. To try and tough it out is as illogical as doing nothing about a headache other than praying for relief when all the while there’s a bottle of aspirin within reach.

Make no mistake, the depression monster is a misery-inducing beast. Self-quoting:

Battling depression reminds me of a phrase I once heard about being in a situation where the only way of creating enough light to read a map was by setting it on fire. You’d better move fast when there’s a respite and the fog smothering your brain lifts, for you don’t know when it’ll be back. Only that it will, at which time you’ll be back swimming upstream in a putrid swill of frustration.

You can’t focus on anything. You can’t concentrate. Making the simplest of decisions becomes insurmountable.

You’re constantly exhausted no matter what. Sleep is either nonexistent or excessive without doing a lick of good. You vacillate between stuffing your face and not eating until you’re shaking and weak from hunger.

The least little nothing sets you off. You feel guilty over nothing and hopeless about everything. Hobbies? Relationships on all levels? You blow them off. Nothing makes you happy. Nothing brings pleasure. No one can get you out of your state. No one.

You know you’re a mess. Last thing you need is a reminder. Yet that’s all you hear. Or so it seems. “Snap out of it! Lighten up! Have some fun!” What, people think you prefer being miserable? You know what needs to be done in order to get out of the place where you’re at so you can get out from under what’s causing the mess.  More specifically, you know what you need to do in order to get out of the place where you’re at so you can get out from under what’s causing the mess.  However, there’s one small problem.

You can’t.

You pray for relief. Some days you get it. Other days you don’t. No idea why. No idea what’ll happen next. Well, that’s not altogether true. You know the depression monster lurks. It comes and goes as it pleases. You know your private hell is close at hand. Yet you’re supposed to keep it together. No one respects your anger. No one wants to see your tears. So you keep it inside. Every last bit. Even as it serves as a slow poison killing you from the inside.

That’s depression.

If you’re fighting the depression monster, get help. Talk to your doctor. Learn the symptoms. Find the right medication to help you. You’re not looking for a happy pill that’ll leave you skipping through a field where everything is pretty and green and the butterflies sing their happy song. You’re looking to level the playing field. That’s all.

You owe yourself that much.

You owe Jesus that much.