Drowning.
When thinking about my depression, I often think of
drowning. I was caught in an undertow as a small child in the Atlantic Ocean,
off a beach in Rockaway, New York. The water is physically pulling you down,
while waves are crashing overhead. Salt water stings your face, your eyes, and
begins to fill your mouth. Your legs are treading water trying to keep yourself
up, but they are getting more and more fatigued with each kick. The shore is
tauntingly close and yet you have no means on getting there on your own. For
someone drowning, help does not come in the form of simply being stronger,
fighting harder or being a better swimmer.
No one would suggest that the way to save a drowning person
is to stand on the beach and shout encouraging things like, “I don’t know why
you are out there drowning when being here on the sand is so much better.” Or,
“Come back to shore, where the rest of us are, it’s more fun.” Or, “See, that’s
why I don’t go swimming.” And yet, with depression, a lot of well-intended
people do exactly that to their depressed friends. “Come out and have fun,
you’ll feel better.” “You know, I read that a good diet and regular exercise
are great for people suffering from depression.” “You can’t let yourself think
these thoughts, you need to look at the world from a glass-half-full
perspective.” “I don’t know why you choose to be like this…it seems miserable.”
I’ve heard all of these – all from people I love and who I
know love me. And yet there is a big disconnect between understanding
depression as an illness compared to being just a moody person. For those who
battle depression, it’s probably a struggle that will ebb and flow most of
their lives. Several studies have linked depression with specific genes and
genetic deficiencies in processing serotonin, meaning, you probably have other
people in your family with depression as well. While depression looks different
in everyone and can manifest itself in a variety of ways, science agrees that
those suffering from depression can be treated. Treatment can take on many
different forms, dependent on the type and severity, but treatment exists. Just
as you wouldn’t tell the person with the chicken pox that they should just
think positively and get better, the person with depression is not going to be
able to just swim to shore on their own.
When someone is drowning, the lifeguard jumps into the water
with his rescue gear and goes to the person in trouble. They aren’t saved from
the shore. This picture is the first thing I think is critical in talking about
depression. We have to be willing to get into the water. For some reason, the
topic of depression is taboo and spoken about in hushed tones in dark rooms.
People with it are scared what other people will think about them if they knew
– like it’s a big moral failing rather than an illness to which you are most
likely genetically predisposed. And if you are in the church, heaven help you.
Literally. Because there are some churches that basically equate depression as
a sin. Well, I am very comfortable saying that it isn’t a sin, but it certainly
carries a stigma with it.
But if you know someone well enough to know about their
struggle, you are a potential lifeguard. Not that you alone can save the individual,
but you can certainly dive in the water and help support them as they get help.
Shannan Martin writes in her amazing book “Falling Free”, “We’re all hurting, to varying depths. Some wounds bear more indelible
manifestations; these scars can’t be covered. We don’t need fresh air or
increased personal space in order to heal. We need the gentle compression of
each other, living in close proximity with certain kinship. Hurt people heal
people.”
No one has it all together and no one has it all right. But
in gentle compression, we can press into the hurting situation and be part of
that lifeline. Whether introvert or extrovert, we all need people. From the
earliest stages of humanity, people bonded in tribes for safety, security, and
prosperity. And yet for those who are suffering, depression can be one of the
most isolating times of your life. People are afraid of saying the wrong thing.
People are afraid of how you will react. People are afraid… we’ve made
depression such a social faux pas that we have lost the nerve to dive in.
So let me assure you right now, while idle chit-chat, small
talk or large public functions may not sound great to a person battling
depression, the care of a true friend is always welcome. If you know them well
enough to know they are struggling, then you know them well enough to be an
encouragement.
I’m no doctor, therapist, counselor or expert of any kind.
Just one gal looking out at the world covered in a grey haze from the recent
rain. And maybe these words can be something positive amongst the clouds and
drizzle.
Next installments:
-
Depression does not mean sad
-
Depression and joy – nearly everything you
learned in Sunday School is wrong
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