It's the End of the World As We Know It - Well, Maybe Not

“It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it

It's the end of the world as we know it and I feel fine”

Last week at work, Dagmar Deamer reminded me of this song with all that we are going through with this pandemic.  I listened to it once again, and I remembered how much I enjoyed this song.  But no, I’m not feeling fine, I’m far from feeling fine.  Plus, now, I can’t get this damn song out of my head.  Thanks Dagmar.  But as usual, I digress.

Just like with any other crisis in life, we are dealing with this pandemic in our own special way.  I’ll have to admit, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it early on.  Well, at first, I actually was having some fun with it.  I thought it was a bunch of hooey, and I told everyone I wasn’t going to do anything differently, I was going to go on with life just like I always did.  I then had my “oh shit” moment the one night about 3 am when I decided to look at my phone and saw that the NBA postponed their season.  I then realized that all other sports would follow suit, and this was serious.  For sports to pass up millions upon millions of dollars, this had to be serious.  We had a rough road ahead of us.

As many of you are aware, I do suffer from depression, and it can be something much less than a pandemic that sets me off, like a Publix commercial, so to say that this sent me downward would be an understatement.  I started worrying about, well, everything.  The pandemic, combined with the huge drop in oil prices, would be devastating for our economy.  Needless to say, many people are and will die from this, which is even more devastating.  My mind was, as in many cases, my own worst enemy.

On a personal level, this past week has hit a pretty deep low, we’ve had several setbacks that are not monumental in the grand scheme of things, but when you pile them all together, can register as a pretty shitty week on the scales.  In no certain order:

• Our son Patrick and his fiancée Rachel were going to be married on April 25, and of course, unfortunately, the wedding had to be postponed.  While we were sad for Patrick, we really were upset for Rachel and for her parents.  To a great extent, a wedding is for the bride, and also to a great extent, the parents of the bride.  They had gone through a lot of planning and preparation, and now, they had to regroup and plan for another date.

• We’ve been busily keeping in close contact with our daughter Kelly, she works for IHG (Holiday Inn), and as you can suspect, her job is probably in a certain level of jeopardy.  The hotel industry is in a very difficult position, people aren’t traveling right now, and who knows when they will start traveling again.

• I had been diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease a few months ago, which I chose not to believe, so I got a second opinion.  This week, I found out … I have Crohn’s Disease.  While this isn’t anything life-threatening, it does provide a certain level of discomfort and joint pain that I’m really not used to.  OK, I know, I’m almost 60 years old, I can’t or shouldn’t complain, but this wasn’t a fun revelation.

• Laurel and I had a few “moments” this week where we probably weren’t as kind to each other as we should be.  With all of the stress going on, it’s probably understandable, and we’ve been married over 37 years, so we will of course be OK, but I know she hurt my feelings, and I’m sure I hurt her feelings.  We didn’t have a good week together.

Normally, I can at least gain comfort from some of the sanctuaries that I frequent, but to no one’s surprise, they are all closed.  Our church is closed until May 11 at a minimum.  Our yoga studio is closed for the foreseeable future.  The local brewery that we go to is closed.  While I am an introvert, I really need personal interaction, and with the social distancing we have to do, I can’t get that either.  I have to say, I was starting to go bat shit crazy.

As I was reaching new lows toward the end of the week, I think it was MK Rodgers who reminded me of what one of my heroes, Mr. Rogers, used to say, “Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping”.  And I did, I found a great deal of people who were helping.  I always hate to individually point people out because I will of course miss some people, but I found so many people willing to help and doing everything they could to help.  Just a few examples:

• Our church, Shallowford Presbyterian Church, has implemented various online options, Bible studies, classes, services, music, etc.  The greatest benefit is that I’ve been able to share these with my Mom, and she’s been able to watch them from her home in North Carolina.  The only downside is when she’s watched one that I haven’t, and I have to admit I haven’t seen it yet.

• Several yoga studios are providing online classes for free, so that we can continue to practice yoga even if we can’t get to the studio.  While it’s not the same, it’s great to still be able to practice, even if it’s in our home.  The only issue is when Daisy and Little Bit come up and lick our faces when we are in Down Dog, but we’ll have to deal with that.

• Alyssa Firestone, my colleague Drew’s wife, reached out to me and spent at least 45 minutes on the phone with me talking through Crohn’s Disease, the issues, problems, vitamins, probiotics, diet, things to watch out for, etc.  She has dealt with this disease for many, many years and at a much higher level than me, so I’m embarrassed to even say I have it.  But she spent so much time, and so patiently talked through what this could mean for me.

• Out of the blue, I got an e-mail from Chuck Achuff from church, just asking me how I was doing with everything going on.  He said that this was probably difficult for business, and asked how I was holding up.

• As we all navigate a brave new world of COVID-19, I have to say that our support system at WIKA has been incredible.  I’m always impressed with our Human Resources team at WIKA, but Cathy Bochenek is one of the most impressive people I’ve ever worked with.  She deals with Health and Safety, and she has been ahead of the game the entire time.  She has been her consistently amazing self.

• On top of that, our IT support team has been called to do a great deal of work to allow our personnel to work from home.  Justin Williams and his team are always ready, responsive and calmly do whatever is needed to ensure our personnel get what they need.  They have consistently gone above and beyond.

• As I mentioned earlier, MK Rodgers has been so much of what I needed on Facebook, she is real, she is honest, she says what we are all thinking and feeling.  I really needed that.

• On the other hand, Jimmy Shafe has consistently been the light that I may not always want, but I need.

• Brad Bryant and Bradley Kibler from church consistently are Brad and Bradley.  As we are trying to navigate how to do Sunday school classes and confirmation classes remote, Brad and Bradley are forces of positivity and persistence to ensure, we will make this work.

So yes, I started focusing on the helpers, and I started feeling much better.  As I rounded out the week, and I was on my morning run, the song “Glory in the Highest” started playing, and I felt so much better.  I started singing praise as I ran,

“Glory glory Hallelujah,

Glory, glory to you, Lord,

Glory, glory Hallelujah,

Hallelujah”

And then I remembered my mantra, whenever my brain and the demons inside of my brain try to drag me down, and I shouted out,

“I am baptized!  So fuck off!”

So many times, when we are dealing with difficulties in life, it’s easy to focus on those who are failing us, whether it’s our politicians, the media, each other, whoever it is, we can see who is letting us down.  But there are so many out there that are going above and beyond, in their own special way.  It may be something as simple as a kind word or a kind gesture.  That can make all the difference.

Is this the end of the world as we know it?  Who knows?  But what if it is?  Admittedly never the optimist, I’m pretty confident, we’re going to be fine.  There are enough of you out there that will bring light to the darkness, and no matter what we face, we’ll get through it.  Keep up the great work you all do. There are many of us who appreciate it.

What Does Happiness Look Like?

A little over a month ago, I wrote, “Sinking Deep – OK, I Lied”, and I promised that my next blog post would be “What Does Happiness Look Like?”.  But then I wrote, “Sinking Deep – OK, I Lied.  Again.”  I’m seeing a pattern here.  But finally we are to “What Does Happiness Look Like?”.

As I noted when I promised this post, my cousin Tim Rodgers’ son, Ian, is my inspiration for this post.  A couple of months ago, Ian wrote the following post on Facebook:

“For the first time in years, I am happy. Not fleeting happiness. Actual, consistent, contentment. I have been for a few months. It didn't hit me that I was all of a sudden in a better place. It happened gradually, almost so slowly that I didn't realize it (it's like growing taller-you don't wake up one day and realize you're tall...).

I'm thrilled to be able to write these words: I am happy. It feels foreign. But it's real, and I value it immensely. I've been able to harness that happiness to rediscover my passions. I'm reading again. I’m taking better care of my body, working out, and I'm running a half marathon this weekend. I'm going on more adventures. I'm making the most of this precious possession.

I'm nervous to write these words. My happiness is unpredictable. My brain can be cruel and unforgiving, and as quickly as it escaped the darkness, it can suck me right back in.

It fills me with questions, questions that show that the pain and doubt don't usually go too far away: Is this real? Does writing it down jinx it? How long will this period of light last? And perhaps most of all, if people don't like me, and I can't blame it on my mental illness because I'm in a good place, does that mean that I'm just bad?

Even with the doubts, the questions, the fears, I still recognize that I am, for the first time in a while, happy. And I will hold on to that as long and as tightly as I can.”

Would you look at that face?  Isn’t it amazing?  I was so ecstatic when I read this post and saw that picture, I was so happy for Ian.  It also made me think, what does happiness look like?  I’ve had those fleeting moments of happiness as Ian describes, but not sustained happiness.  I wondered what that would look like.

But then a funny thing happened on the way to a blog post.  I got to experience happiness, and not fleeting happiness, but about two weeks of happiness, and if I may dare say, frickin’ giddiness.  I was a man on fire.  OK, it didn’t last, I didn’t stay in this state of euphoria, but then again, I didn’t sink deep again.  For now, I’m in a good place.

But back to the post.  When I saw Ian’s post and picture, it made me think, what does happiness look like?  So I scanned back through various pictures on my computer, and I scanned through various pictures that some of you have posted over time.  There have been some that have been my favorites, where I saw true happiness.  Keep in mind, my eyes are the lens, you all may not agree with what I’ve chosen as what happiness looks like.  There were way too many to choose from, so I missed some of you, and I apologize, and I also missed some great pictures, including today (specifically Pete and Lucy Sproull and the Martin girls!).  And also keep in mind, I tend to favor dogs, babies, small children,  and romance so my view is skewed in that direction (remember I’m a Hallmark Christmas movie junkie).

I hope you enjoy, I know I did putting it together.  And thank you Ian for the inspiration and motivation to keep on searching for what happiness looks like.

One last thing for all of us to remember, especially me, and especially in this season:

“Fix your eyes on this one truth, God is madly in love with you”

Sinking Deep - OK, I Lied. Again.

Editor’s Note: I had said that my post, “Sinking Deep – Into Light” would be my last post on my journey with depression.  Then I posted, “Sinking Deep – OK, I Lied”.  And now, happily, I am lying again.  Wow.  I have some great news to share. 

I know some of you are struggling with my blog posts and that I’m sharing my journey with depression.  Believe me, I get that, especially those of you who really care about me, but I just strongly believe it is way too important to share my journey.  If one person is helped by knowing that there is someone else out there like them, I will feel like I’ve been successful.

But even more, these last couple of weeks have been unbelievable.  I can’t overstate what has happened over the last weeks, and I’m completely amazed by it all.  While I know some of you are on different faith journeys, I can’t possibly attribute this to anything other than a “God thing”.  There is no other way to put it.

Look into the face of love and grace

Hailey recently suggested to me that I talk about my struggles with the sins of my past and self-forgiveness to someone other than her.  As she put it, she can tell me all day long that I can forgive myself, but maybe since I’m paying her to help me, I need to talk to someone else and share my story and share that burden to see what their reaction would be.

This was a tough assignment.  It took me a while to work up the trust with Hailey to share my story with her, but it would be tougher to share it with someone else.  As noted before, 30 years ago, I abandoned my family, I moved out, I gave up my responsibility, I lived like a vagabond, in friends’ guest rooms, on couches, on floors, and finally in a tiny, barely furnished apartment.  That’s the cliff notes version, but I was to provide the fuller story to someone besides Hailey.  As noted, this story has been shoved down for 30 years, it was hard enough to tell Hailey, so many details I don’t even remember, or I’ve conveniently forgotten. 

I finally decided that I had to do it.  But to whom?  I scanned my mind, friends, family, co-workers, church members, my Small Group.  This was a really tough choice, I didn’t know who I could trust, but also who I would want to burden with my ugly story.  I finally decided on our Associate Pastor, Catherine Foster.  Why Catherine?  Simply put, she’s one of my favorite pastors in my life, and she’s a beautiful child of God.

As the day approached, I had so much apprehension, but a firm commitment that I was going to go through with this.  While I knew Catherine well enough to know that she wouldn’t be repulsed in horror at my story, I did have some deep seated fears.  As we sat at dinner, my biggest fears were that I would throw up all over her, or I would burst into flames.  Spoiler alert, neither happened.   As I shared my story, the pain I’ve felt for 30 years, I looked into the face of love and grace, but it was even more.

Those eyes.

I just wish I could truly describe those eyes to you.  I saw love and grace, and I saw compassion, empathy, pain – for me, I saw the eyes of God upon me saying, “Why do you keep doing this to yourself, my son, I’ve forgiven you, why won’t you forgive yourself?”  We talked for a long time, and Catherine offered me so many words that were wonderful, and I deeply appreciate that, but it was those eyes.  I couldn’t believe, I physically felt a weight lifted, I felt so much lighter.  I couldn’t believe what a relief I felt.

The seat of judgment

For our Forum Sunday School class at church, we are going to read “The Wonder of Christmas” by Ed Robb and Rob Renfroe for Advent.  I started reading it on a plane trip recently, and I came upon this line:

“But let’s be honest.  King Herod knew there was room for only one on the throne, and we know the same thing.  It’s either Jesus or us.”

As noted, I believe firmly that God is the only one who can and should judge us, and I have no problem with that applying to everyone.  Except me.  I can’t seem to remove myself from the seat of judgment, as much as I know it’s wrong, I apparently believe I know more than God when it comes to judging myself. 

As I shared this line with Hailey, I tried to move on, but she forced me to explain why this line bothered me so much.  I got really emotional, and I said, “Why do I think I have the right to sit on the throne.  I don’t have any right to sit in judgment of myself, why can’t I see that?”  She said, “That’s the first time you’ve said it this way.  You always talk in third person, this is the first time you’ve used I.  That’s really good.”

Hailey then went on to suggest maybe I visualize it.  Maybe I could visualize letting God sit on the throne, and move off of it.  I didn’t have to do it permanently, I could move back on when I wanted to, but maybe I could let God sit there periodically?  We’ve done these visualization exercises before, and they’ve been very effective and powerful, but I had another idea.  When I got home, I bought two stuffed animals from Amazon.  I found a lamb, to symbolize the Lamb of God, and I bought Eeyore to represent me.  As you all know, I love Winnie the Pooh, but I’ve been feeling more Eeyore lately.  When I got them, I set them up in our family room with the lamb sitting up in the chair, and Eeyore sitting on the ottoman.  As noted, I can move them if I want, but so far, I’ve been able to let the Lamb of God sit where He belongs.

It’s amazing how the tapestry is woven together

Hailey and I recently began talking about work a little bit, and I shared with her the narrative I grew up with, “You always take care of your family”.  Keep in mind, my parents grew up post-depression, and work and providing for your family was a necessity.  My Dad worked 18 years at one point without a single day off for vacation or a sick day.  My brother worked three jobs for many years.  Hard work was instilled in us, and it became the narrative for my life.  I have obsessed over work for my entire career, my work has dominated my mindset and my entire life.  I remember once, I was sick, but I went to work.  I told Sherry Starr, who worked for me at the time, “I’m going to go home, and lie down for a couple hours, but I should be back after lunch.”  Keep in mind, this is before cell phones, and I remember lying there in bed, so sick I couldn’t get up, but I crawled across the floor, and pulled the phone off of the dresser, and I lay on the floor, listening to and responding to my voice mails.  Yes I was sick in more ways than one.

Please don’t take this wrong, I don’t blame my parents for this narrative that I grew up with.  There is nothing wrong with that narrative.  But I morphed it into something dangerous and ugly.  I made work into life.  I glorified it into something it should never be.  And I also used this narrative as a sledgehammer to beat myself up for the sins of my past.  “I abandoned my family.  I didn’t take care of my family.”

Help me Obi-wan, you’re my only hope

As I shared all of this with Hailey last week, she said, “That was your narrative growing up.  That doesn’t have to be your narrative as a grown up.  You can change it.”  You wouldn’t believe what that statement meant to me.  I know, I know, I know.  I couldn’t possibly be the most colorful crayon in the box if I didn’t already know this, but somehow, just hearing this changed me completely. 

Let me digress for just one second.  Back to the book, “The Wonder of Christmas”, Rob Renfroe describes a time 30 years ago in his life (tell me that’s not a God moment) where he was miserable and bitter.  He went to a religious conference, and at the end, they had a prayer service.  He said it wasn’t immediate, but he realized afterward that God had healed him. 

Now I know it’s only been six days, but I can’t believe how happy I’ve been in those six days.  Yes, happy.  I told Hailey I’m going to start calling her Obi-wan, but she quickly corrects me and says, “You’re the one doing all the hard work, I’m just sitting in this chair providing some ideas.”  Oh pish-posh Hailey!  OK, to be honest, I am pretty proud of myself for the lamb and Eeyore idea, I’m learning a lot and using what I learn.

I can feel the ground shake beneath us as the prison walls cave in

I went for my normal run this morning, and I listened to my normal songs.  As I was listening to “Another in the Fire” (my obsession with Hillsong United and this song is a bit over the top), I heard the line above, and I felt this huge smile come across my face.  And I couldn’t take that smile away.  I can start to feel the prison walls that I’ve created beginning to cave in.  What a wonderful feeling.

As Hailey pointed out to me, I now need to figure out what my new narrative is going to be.  That may be a bit difficult, but I’m sure we’ll get there.  Yes, the train has just barely left the station, but wow, these last few weeks have been incredible.  Besides the help I’ve noted above, I know so many of you have been praying for me, giving me words of encouragement, sending me words of encouragement, and posting inspirational quotes on Facebook for me to see.  You all have been awesome.  Thanks be to God, and to all of the people He’s put in my life that are doing such incredible things to help me on this journey.

Sinking Deep - OK, I Lied

Editor’s Note: I had said that my last post, “Sinking Deep – Into Light” would be my last post on my journey with depression.  Yeah, I lied.  Seriously, I had some really incredible revelations recently that I needed to share.  So one last post.  Maybe.

“It really concerns me how afraid you are of going back.”

Uh-oh.

That look, the concern in her voice told me that I wasn’t going to enjoy the road we were about to be traveling on.

If you’ve read my last post, “Sinking Deep – Into Light”, I felt like I was finally moving forward, ever so slowly, but I was moving forward.  I was making progress, and I was starting to feel like I was moving forward on my road to self-forgiveness. 

I was feeling really good, but as the week went along, I was starting to slide.  My brain, or as Hailey keeps correcting me, part of my brain, keeps pulling me back, wanting me to go back to where I was.  While I personally don’t know what it’s like to be a drug addict or an alcoholic, I would tend to believe it’s similar.  I know that drug addicts and alcoholics are told to stay away from those who are bad influences, but in my case, it’s my brain that is the bad influence.  It keeps telling me, “It’s OK, come back to what you know.  You can be so much better, when you sink deep, that’s where you find God, He’s waiting for you there.” 

And it is what I know, what I’m familiar with.  It also is strangely comfortable and in a weird sort of way feels good.  As noted, I’ve told myself sinking deep ultimately makes me a better person, and I also get closer to God when I go deeper.  Maybe it’s just that I’ve done this all my life, but as crazy as it sounds, depression is a safe place, a perceived good place to be, or at least it was.  As I noted, it started becoming longer and deeper, and I’ll admit, scarier, and that is when I decided, with strong advice, it was time to seek counseling.  I just couldn’t do this alone anymore. 

When I started moving away, when I started to work toward recovery, my brain intervened and wanted to bring me back to a way of life I’ve known and felt comfortable with for at least 30 years.  So when Hailey expressed concern about being afraid to go back, yes, I’m afraid, I don’t want to go back, but my brain keeps dragging me back, dragging me back under the waters.

I think the reality that Hailey knows, and the reality that I knew but somehow had forgotten, is that my depression is a life-long illness that isn’t ever going to go away completely.  Similar to Patrick with his club foot that he’s had since birth, we will have to deal with what we have all our lives.  What it comes down to is figuring out how to deal with it.  I had briefly lost sight of that as I progressed and grew in my journey of self-forgiveness, I had mistakenly thought that I’d eventually grow out of my depression. 

“We should do three things every day of our life.  Number one is laugh.  You should laugh every day.  Number two is to think, we should spend some time in thought.  And, number three is you should have your emotions moved to tears….If you laugh, you think and you cry, that’s a full day.”  - Jim Valvano

So the road took an unexpected twist, which was my own fault, Hailey never told me I would miraculously be cured, I just got a little too excited and thought we were heading somewhere else for a brief period of time.  We were and are headed toward a road of self-forgiveness, as she keeps pointing out to me, I can do this, I just need to let myself do it.  We are working on that, and while I’ve always doubted myself in this regard, I do believe that with help, I can do this.  I know, I should be saying I will do this.

In regard to depression, all is not lost.  Hailey actually is working with me on coping skills, and I have learned some ways of dealing with my depression when it starts setting in.  Yes, I’m still scared.  While Hailey tells me I have great coping skills, I’m not quite as confident in myself.  I do believe I’m heading in the right direction, even if I lost the view of my compass for a few moments. 

One of my favorite quotes is shown above from Jim Valvano.  I’ve shared before that every time I take a yoga class with Megan Kearney, I laugh, I think, I cry.  Oh, I work my ass off in between, I sweat, I hurt, I push myself, but most importantly, I laugh, I think, I cry.  I get a full day out of an hour’s class with Megan Kearney.  That’s the same with my time with Hailey.  I laugh, I think, I cry.  I also work my ass off, in a different way, and I also work my ass off in between sessions.  But I get a full day out of my hour’s session with Hailey. 

I can learn to deal with my depression.

Sinking Deep - Into Light

Last weekend was our church retreat.  Right before leaving for it, I met with my counselor, Hailey, and told her how apprehensive I was, going to the retreat.  I told her that I just didn’t feel like I fit in, I don’t belong.  As I noted in my last blog post, I’ve felt this way more and more at Shallowford Presbyterian Church and at Ebb and Flow Yoga Studio, my two favorite places in the world.  I just don’t feel like I deserve being at either place, I’m not worthy to be there.   So, the retreat created a sense of unease in me, how do I navigate through it?

Hailey asked that, and also suggested maybe I could do what comes most natural for me at the moment, or what makes me feel most comfortable, do things for people.  Laurel and I arrived at the retreat, and since Laurel was on the planning committee, we got there early and were able to help set up.  This was great.  And then, a wonderful opportunity came.  Bradley Kibler, our Associate Pastor and the organizer of the retreat, said we needed someone to vacuum the floor of the large room we were using.  Yes!  What a great opportunity to serve, and also serve in a very nondescript manner.

As a small preface, this retreat’s theme was “The Power of Movement”.  We are transitioning to a new head pastor in about a month, and with any transition, you have change.  The theme was adapting, dealing with change, envisioning what we will look like in the future.  We worked in a large group a part of the time, and in small groups a part of the time.  We had lots of great exercises and lots of great discussion.

This retreat started in a much different manner for me.  I was really enjoying myself and even feeling like I fit in.  I was having great conversations with people, I was having a great time in my small group, I was bonding with people I really didn’t know that well before the retreat, this was going far beyond my expectations.  I was feeling comfortable, I was feeling more at ease, I was feeling like I did fit in.

But then…..

Vickie Dieth, our retreat speaker, began our session right before lunch on Saturday, and she said that as she was preparing for this retreat, at one point God spoke to her.  And what God told her was slow down.  And she said while this retreat was about movement, and how this may seem contrary to our goals for the weekend, she wanted us to spend an hour or so alone in our thoughts, and she wanted us to talk to God, and listen to what God had to say to us.  She gave us various avenues to do this, she gave us watercolors to paint, crayons to draw, books to read, pictures to look at, she told us we could go for a walk, but we needed to silently focus on talking to God and listening to what God had to say.

I sunk rapidly.  In a certain sense, I’m not completely sure why, but I did.  I knew that this wouldn’t be good, I would sink back into depression if I had to spend time alone with myself, or even with God.  But, I followed the rules dutifully, and I chose using a picture to work from.  I had seen a picture the night before of a dock in the water, stretching out from darkness to light, and the picture really grabbed my attention.  So I took that picture, and I went outside to sit on a bench with my thoughts, and even though it was freezing outside (for me at least), I sat out there, and looked at that picture.  I also grabbed my Ipod, and listened to my “go to” song at the moment, Hillsong United’s “Another In the Fire”. 

As I anticipated, I started crying.  I sat there looking at that picture, stuck in the darkness, listening to “Another In the Fire”, and I kept focusing on my depression, and not getting past it.  While the song is so beautiful, I gravitate to one line in the song, “I'll count the joy come every battle, ‘Cause I know that's where You'll be”.  I’ve convinced myself that my depression is necessary, I need it to get closer to God, and when I dive deep, that’s where I’ll find God.  Yes, I know, my brain is lying to me, this isn’t a healthy reality, but that’s where I’ve been. 

I sat there, and I started journaling, and talking to God, and I wrote:

“It was going so well, Lord.  I was distracted, I was having fun.  And then you brought me back to reality.  And I had to confront my fears.  I had to be alone and live with myself.  Still stuck in the darkness, looking for the light.  Trying to get out of this rut called depression, anxiety, fear, hatred of myself.  Back to where I’m longing for the light.  I count joy in every battle, because I know that’s where you’ll be.  Is that my song?  Is that my life?  Do I have to go deep to find you?  Is this just who I am?  Is there nothing more?”

As the song ended, I was crushed.  I was back to reality, I was back to who I was.  But then, I decided to play the song again.  Now, I’ve listened to this song many, many times, but for some reason, I decided to listen again.  And I don’t know what happened, OK, I do, but it was amazing.  Something lit up inside of me, and all I can attribute it to was God listening to me, and answering me.  My writing went on:

“I can be better, I really can.  This doesn’t have to be me.  I’m not defined by what I’ve done.  I’m defined by who I am.  I can be a better me.  I just have to figure out how.  Listen to the whole song, Dumb Ass!  It’s about redemption!”

When we got back from the retreat, I had to fly to Mexico for a week of meetings.  I was going to pack a book to read on the plane, and I started to choose one on leadership, but I thought, no, I need to read one on religion.  I looked for “A Way Through the Wilderness”, a book I love, but I couldn’t find it, so I settled on Adam Hamilton’s “24 Hours That Changed the World”.  I had never read it, but Laurel had, and she really liked it.  And it was an awesome choice for me at the moment.

As I started reading it on my flight to Mexico City, early on, I came to a section titled “A Meal That Defines Us”.  In it, there were these lines:

“What memories define you?  Are there events or words that play over and over inside your head?.... Those things are not meant to define you.  There is something else, a larger story, that defines you.  For you and me as Christians, our defining story is accompanied by a meal and some important words: “On the night when he was betrayed, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, ‘This is my body that is for you.  Do this in remembrance of me.’  In the same way He took the cup also, after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood.  Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.’  For as often as you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.”

I oftentimes refer to those times when God speaks to me as “two by four” moments.  God knows I’m really not a good listener, so He has to smack me really hard across the head for me to listen.  As noted a few blogs ago, I had God speak to me through Pastor Rudy, and now I had two moments where I truly believe God is trying to get through my really thick head and get me to allow myself to forgive me. 

“There’s a slow, slow train comin’ up around the bend”

As I shared all of this with Hailey, my emotions were probably as strong as they’ve been since we started meeting.  But for once, we were starting on some good emotions.  As she noted, and she has an analogy for it, forgiveness is like a train, when you finally decide to forgive, that’s the engine starting up, but that forgiveness has to travel through all of the cars of the train, which represent many emotions, until finally, it reaches the caboose, and actual forgiveness happens.  When she shared that picture with me, I told her that the engine of my train was just starting to slowly work its way out of the station, it was currently moving at a turtle’s pace, but, it was moving forward.

For the first time, I left my counseling session feeling good.  For the first time, I felt like I was starting, ever so slowly, to be moving forward.  Hailey gave me an assignment, which was a real struggle for me to agree to, but I’m going to give it a shot.  As she said, “Even if you don’t believe it, it’s good to say something out loud and try to convince yourself of it.  Even if you know it’s a lie for the moment, say it out loud to yourself.”  After much debate and disagreement on the wording (I know, but I can’t help myself), I agreed to tell myself each day, “I’m moving toward forgiving myself”. 

As I’ve noted, I have a huge amount of thanks to give to Hailey, but as I’ve also noted, I truly believe God has had a hand in this.  Maybe God’s not through with me yet.

Sinking Deep - From Darkness

“But it’s a sad man my friend who’s livin’ in his own skin and can’t stand the company.”

After a few months of getting to know each other better, my counselor, Hailey, and I jointly decided it was time to take the plunge into the past and explore the roots of my depression.  We both knew it wouldn’t be a pleasant journey, but it was a journey we had to take, nonetheless, to try to move forward toward healing.

We headed back, way back to probably about 30 years ago, and we explored a life and a person I really didn’t know, and I definitely didn’t like.  We talked about those years, those events, and ultimately my abandonment of my family.  We explored what was happening and what led up to this.  But you know, it was the strangest thing, I couldn’t really recall much of the details.  It was kind of like the one time when I fell running, and all I can really remember was the fact I was lying on the ground, couldn’t remember how I got there or what happened, but I could remember how much it hurt.  We went through the same experience.  Hailey would question me about various points, timelines, etc., and I really couldn’t remember much of anything.  I was actually sitting there shaking, it was such a painful experience to go through.  I had shut this part of my life out completely, except for the global fact of abandoning my family, and it was hard and painful to recollect any of the details. 

After that, I plunged deeply, it was too painful to go through it.  I still agree, it had to be done, but it opened up some deep wounds.  As we got back together and discussed it, Hailey assured me that this was normal and expected.  I had stuffed this pain down and kept shoving it down for 30 years.  We had just started digging it out, and unfortunately, we never really did anything to heal it, we just left that open wound sitting there exposed. 

As we talked about it more, I realized how much I hated that person I was, and while it may be self-evident for many, it’s hard to go through life with so much hate inside, especially for yourself.  Have you ever gone through those exercises where you imagine someone sitting in front of you, a loved one, a friend, a colleague, someone you don’t particularly like, and you imagine smiling at them and giving them a big hug and telling them how much you love and appreciate them?  I’ve done that before, and I went through that exercise with Hailey, and where I always fail, is with myself.  When it comes time to visualize myself, smile, give myself a big hug, and say I love you, I just can’t bring myself to do it.

Hailey and I have gone through the discussions, if someone does something wrong to you, do you forgive them?  Of course, we all screw up.  Do you believe God forgives you?  Of course, He forgives us all.  Do you forgive yourself?  Well, that’s another matter altogether.  I know, I know, I know, logic doesn’t work here, and I get that.

As noted, we opened up a huge, gaping wound, and it’s going to take some time to figure out how to heal it. 

“For by grace, you have been saved through faith.  And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works” – Ephesians 2:8-9

Digging into the past was bad enough, but then we had a serious “Aha moment”. 

Hailey asked me what do other people like about you, what do others see as good qualities that you possess?

I started listing off various acts of kindness that I’ve done, nice things I’ve done for people.  She looked at me very quizzically, and said, “You really didn’t say anything about yourself or good qualities you have, all you did was list things you do for people.”

That one hit like a brick.  I never realized that I perceive my value purely by my acts, not who I am.  We delved briefly into the religious implications of this, but I noted to Hailey, I’m a firm believer that the only way to Heaven and to redemption is through Jesus Christ and Grace.  While works are important, they don’t get us there.  It’s not a religious thing, that’s not why I do works, it’s because that is the only way I can feel better about myself, it’s the only way I can like myself.  While dredging up my past was painful, this was an awful realization about myself.  I’m not sure anyone could imagine how devastated I was when this hit home.

I started thinking about how I’ve grown to feel the most uncomfortable in the two places I love the most, Shallowford Presbyterian Church and Ebb and Flow Yoga Studio.  I just don’t feel like I’m worthy.  I told Hailey how we close most yoga classes with the instructor saying, “The divine light in me honors the divine light in you.  And when we’re in this place together, we are one.  Namaste”, and how I just don’t feel like I’ve “earned” hearing that. 

Is this rock bottom?  Well, I surely hope so!  If I’ve thoroughly depressed you, please read on for my next post, “Sinking Deep – Into Light”  While Hailey has been amazing, well, there’s no one who can match God when you need some help.

If You Build It, He Will Come

Back in February this year, the United Methodist Church approved the Traditional Plan, which strengthened language barring LGBTQ United Methodists from ordination and marriage.  When I heard this, I was completely heartbroken.  Several years ago, my wife Laurel and I broke from the Methodist Church because of this issue, but I still remain as a Trustee at United Theological Seminary (UTS), which is technically non-denominational, but does have heavy ties to the Methodist Church, and has its roots in the Methodist Church.  I was heartbroken because of what this would mean for me, being on the Board of Trustees for a seminary that was largely Methodist, but I was also heartbroken for the decision surrounding this issue.

Several years ago, when we were members of a local Methodist Church, our son Patrick went through a difficult time, where he had suffered from sexual abuse.  Because of the experience, for a period of time, he thought or assumed he must be homosexual.  When Patrick approached Laurel and I about this issue, we immediately told him that just like God, we never started loving him, our love for him had no beginning nor end.  But I struggled with how our church would view him.  While we in a sense accept the LGBTQ community, it’s kind of a “don’t ask, don’t tell” type of approach.  I even had one of my friends from church say to me the one time, “I don’t mind if they worship here, but I don’t want them acting homosexual”.  I’m not sure how you can grow in Christian community if you can’t accept and embrace everyone for who they are and where they are in their life’s journey.

After the vote, I debated strongly whether to resign from the board at UTS in protest for the vote.  I strongly view this position against the will of God, I believe the love of God, the kingdom of God, is expansive, it has a great deal of room for so many of us, no matter our race, color, religion, sexual orientation, and I was really struggling with this decision.  One of the best experiences I had on this topic was when I had a chance to discuss it with J. Herbert Nelson, the Stated Clerk of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church.  He just started laughing.  He said, “I just don’t get it.  The church is for everyone.  I’ve never been able to understand this”.  And I don’t understand it, I’m consistently amazed that while we all sin regularly, consistently, daily, repeatedly, some of us hold the “sin” of being a part of the LGBTQ community as the one unforgivable sin, while many of us don’t view it as a sin at all. 

I will say, however, that I also get very frustrated with some of my brethren on the side of the LGBTQ viewpoint who characterize those on the Traditional side as being uncaring.  I have many dear friends from UTS or from my former church who are anything but uncaring, but they believe deeply in their hearts that this is God’s will, that the Bible is clear on this topic.  These are deeply loving and caring people, and I have a huge amount of respect for their commitment to what they believe is right.  While I may disagree with them, I don’t doubt their conviction or their sincerity, or their love.  

I didn’t resign, but I have to say, I became lukewarm, which for me, is even worse.  I went to my board meetings this past weekend, and on Thursday, I felt like a man without a country.  As we discussed or debated some of the possible solutions that may come forward at next year’s General Conference, I kept thinking, “I don’t have a dog in this fight”.  I’m not Methodist anymore, for this reason, this doesn’t impact me.  But quite frankly it does, and it does impact all of us. 

We have lost our ability as people to discuss, debate, and disagree, but do it in a way that we still respect and love those who we disagree with.  We’ve seen it over and over again across the globe, but particularly in our country.  There are those among the Methodist leadership, who are trying to change that.  They are working on a compromise solution, one that may not make everyone happy, but one that may lead to an amicable decision and separation.  How exciting would it be to see compromise, to see the love of God leading us to honoring each other, and coming to a solution that can be a win-win for everyone?  Maybe, just maybe, this can be a model going forward, maybe we can figure out ways to constructively, respectfully disagree with each other?  If we can’t do it as a church, how can we expect the country or the world to do it?

But, as noted, I struggled Thursday, I felt lost, out of sorts, I felt like I really didn’t belong, and I told Laurel that night, “I think I need to just resign, my heart’s not in it”.  Even worse, and for those who have been reading my blog posts about my depression, I was starting to think, maybe I’m not just losing my mind, maybe I’m also losing my soul.  I was really in a bad place after Thursday.

But then Friday came.  And just like so many of the meetings at UTS, Friday is a special day.  We lead off with Devotions on Friday, and it is a different person each time.   This time it was Dr. Rudy Rasmus.  I sat over on the side, all by myself, as noted, I felt like a man on my own little island, without a soul.  And then Rudy spoke.  I was completely mesmerized.  I couldn’t take my attention away from him, he had me in his spell.  It was simply an incredible message.

Then, the Reverend Marla Brown approached me, I had sent her my “depression trilogy” blogs, and she expressed her appreciation to me for sharing and gave me some kind words.  I’m sure there are some nicer, kinder people in the world than Marla Brown, but the number is probably in the range that you can count on your fingers. 

After that, after the one meeting, for whatever reason, Rudy approached me, and we had probably a half hour discussion about life, about a lot of things.  I had seen Rudy at our last board meeting, but we barely exchanged pleasantries, I have absolutely no idea why Rudy came up to talk to me after the meeting, but it was one of the most inspirational discussions I’ve had in a long, long time.  I was a new man.  And whether you are one to believe in things like this, I count this as a God moment.  Read below what Rudy has on his website, and tell me that this isn’t a man I can gain a lot from.

As I’ve noted, I’ve thought long and hard about resigning from the UTS board.  I’ve thought maybe I don’t belong, maybe I don’t really add any value.  But then I started thinking, maybe this isn’t about the Methodist Church, maybe this isn’t about United Theological Seminary, maybe this isn’t about the skills and knowledge that I can possibly add to what we do there.

Maybe this is about me.

If you know me, you know how uncomfortable that comment is.  But, I kept thinking over the last couple days, what the hell is going on?  I kept thinking in the back of my mind, this reminds me of something, but what?  And then it finally hit me, and yeah, I may be stretching, but it reminded me of one of my favorite movies, “Field of Dreams”.  I’ve been pounding my head trying to figure out why am I here, what can I do to help the Methodist Church, what am I doing to help the seminary, and maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what I can do for anyone else, but what they can and are doing for me.  Just maybe, God has put me here because I need to be here.

As I painfully struggle through my issues at the moment, seriously, what could possibly be a better place to be than at a place surrounding by Bishops, ministers, faculty and students who want to serve God.  I highlighted above the impact Rudy Rasmus and Marla Brown had on me this weekend but in prior weekends, it’s been Bob Coleman, Jeff Greenway, Marty Nicholas or Bishop Lowry or so many others.  I leave there refreshed, nourished and feeling closer to God each time.  And maybe, just maybe, that’s why I’m there, God put me there because I need to be there, nothing else. 

So I re-committed, I plan to serve out my term, I am on the board through May 2021.  I’m going to be there, I’ll do the best job I can possibly do, but I’ll also be there to see what message God has for me.  I truly believe God spoke very clearly to me this weekend.  I may have believed I was completely lost, that I had finally lost my soul, but based on everything that happened, I don’t think God has given up on me yet.  And I don’t think I should either.

Sinking Deep - Epiphanies

Editor’s Note: I committed to share my journey to hopefully help those who are on a similar journey with depression.  I have to admit, I’ve been hesitant to do this because the last thing I want is anyone to feel sorry for me.  I especially feel this way today after attending the Gala-4-Gold to benefit the Amanda Riley Foundation, which helps those children and families battling childhood cancer.  Twelve Riley Warriors lost their lives so far this year.  If you ever want to feel sorry for someone, do it for children like this or their families.  I just can’t imagine.  But, I’m committed to help at least one person with my blog posts.  After my last post, one person did reach out to me, and that made me feel good.  If I can help at least one person with my journey then I will feel like I’ve succeeded.  So the journey continues…

Oh, the irony.

For those who read my last blog post, “Sinking Deep(er)”, I noted that I had been begrudgingly convinced by Megan Kearney and Karl Sparklin that maybe it was time to seek counseling to deal with my latest plunges into depression.  As I noted, I’m really not a fan of counseling, I hadn’t had good experience with it.

Flash forward to last week, I’m in Brazil, and I see that after my upcoming counseling appointment with Hailey, I can’t get in again until September 20, almost a month later.  I quickly panic, and immediately schedule three appointments to get onto the schedule before the opportunity slips away. 

Yes, my attitude has changed.  I’ve been going to counseling for about seven weeks, and I’ve loved it.  Now, don’t get me wrong, it has definitely had its ebb and flow, and I’ve plunged deeply a few times after exploring some very difficult topics, but overall, this experience has been overwhelmingly successful.

I’ve also had a few epiphanies along the way about what I’m experiencing, and I’d like to share those.

The Hot Air Balloon Effect

Many years ago, Laurel and I took a hot air balloon ride in the countryside of France.  It was a magical experience, but not without its panic-filled moments for me.  As we took off, and as we landed, when I could see the trees, rivers, houses, churches, I was fine.  When we got way up in the air, I started to panic.  I tried to rationally tell myself, this is silly, if you were fine 100 feet off the ground, you should be fine 1,000 feet off the ground, either way, if you fell or something happened, you’d die, so you are having an irrational fear.  Yeah, that didn’t work.  My rational mind couldn’t convince my emotional mind to settle down.

I realized that this is the same thing I face when I have irrational fears now.  I’ve found that for whatever reason, I seem to have these more often when I travel long distances away, like to South America.  Now, it may be the long flights, the lack of sleep, sitting in a hotel room all by myself, but whatever it is, my emotional mind takes over, and I can’t get my rational mind to convince it that, well, it’s being irrational.

The latest was last week in Brazil, it started harmlessly enough, one of the dogs was sick, most likely Daisy, and I was texting back and forth with Laurel about it.  At one point, she said it was probably due to too many treats.  I took that as a shot at me, since I’m the one who gives them too many treats, so I sent a smart-ass comment back.  The next morning, I tried texting Laurel and then calling to no avail.  My emotional mind took over.  I started thinking, she’s mad at me.  Then I started thinking, Daisy died.  Then I started thinking, Laurel was kidnapped or died or ….. I resorted to what I try to avoid, but do out of desperation, I started texting the kids, “Have you talked to your Mom?”  I finally reached Laurel, and her reaction was as is usual, “Worrying won’t help the situation, it won’t do any good.”  Easy for her to say, incredibly hard for me to execute.

This has been a repetitive pattern for me, as noted, particularly when I travel far away.  Similar to the hot air balloon incident, I try to tell myself, if I were 50 miles away or 5,000 miles away, there’s not much I can do if something has gone horribly wrong.  Again, that hasn’t worked, my rational mind hasn’t been able to convince my emotional mind that it’s being irrational.

Hailey has been working with me on coping skills.  She suggests either lean into the irrational fears, embrace them and basically confront them, or distract yourself from them.  Since the fears I’m having are too life-changing and devastating, I haven’t confronted them, but I have been working on distracting myself, with at least limited success.  I’m still a work in progress.

The Heart of the Matter

It’s about forgiveness.  And yet, once again, I can’t seem to get my rational mind and emotional mind to work together on this one (by the way, Hailey says when I’m able to, that is the wise mind, but as usual, I digress).

One of my favorite moments this year at our Small Group Retreat was when Nike Nihiser said he still remembers what I said on his wedding day.  Nike had been divorced, he was marrying a wonderful person in Jane, and I told him how happy I was for him, but more so how good it felt to see him so happy.  And then I told him, everyone deserves a second chance in life.

Fast forward to some of my conversations with Hailey, and she’s asked me if I forgive others when they’ve done something wrong to me?  I tell her of course, we all make mistakes, we’re human.  She then asks, does that apply to me?  In the immortal words of Hamlet, “Ay, there’s the rub!”

To be honest, it’s not everything in life, and that’s where it gets a bit interesting.  In many areas of my life, I do believe I deserve forgiveness, but there are three areas where I really struggle, and yes, I need to work through.  One, is with my Dad.  My Dad was the greatest cheerleader a child could have, he was always positive and seeing the good in what I had done, but I just can’t, or won’t, see where I’ve treated him well.  Two, it’s my children, I can remember virtually every nasty or ill-tempered comment I’ve made to them throughout our lives together.  As my brother Jim would say, words are like bullets, once they’re out, you can’t get them back, and the damage is done.  Three, and most importantly, and most painful for me is how I treated Laurel.  As many know I left her for a brief period about 30 years ago, I was nasty to her, I was awful.  I’m struggling to accept what I did.

I’ll be honest, I’m not sure I can ever forgive myself, or as Hailey rightfully points out to me, “You can, it’s a matter of if you will”.  This will take time, but the reality is that I’ve carried this guilt and pain for 30 years, and I just don’t know if I will let it go.  I keep going back to something one of the greatest theologians I know, Catherine Foster, said to me a few years ago on this topic:

“Now, like me, you might feel that you only hold yourself to a higher standard. But I've discovered in myself that this is my desire to boot God from the seat of judgment and place myself there. God may forgive me, but I'm going to keep punishing myself for as long as I feel necessary.  I've learned that this is both pride/hubris and also terrible theology. The solution to sin is not punishment, but reconciliation. My task upon realizing my sin is not guilt but the even harder work of opening myself to repair the breach.”

Wow, spot on.  Now if I could just get my rational brain to convince my emotional brain of this….

What the Hell Happened?

I look back to some of my blog posts from 2017, and that was probably the best place I’ve ever been when it comes to spirituality, emotions and my mental state.  I probably had come the closest I’ve ever come to being able to accept myself for who I am.  As Hailey points out to me there is a distinction between viewing yourself as a good person who has done bad things or viewing yourself as a bad person.  Again, when I’m rational, I can see the difference, but unfortunately there are times, I can’t, OK won’t, see the distinction.  I’m not sure what has happened in those two short years to bring me to this place, but I need to figure out how to get back again to a better place.  I’m exhausting myself continually boomeranging between depression and anxiety, and I just can’t keep doing this.

Going full circle to my panic with not being able to schedule appointments for about a month and one of the reasons I like Hailey so much is that she said to me “You’ll be fine, you have great coping skills.  My job is to work my way out of a job, we need to get to the point where you don’t need to come see me anymore, and we’ll get there.”  I like her, I trust her, and I believe in her.  To me, that is critical to have a healthy working relationship with a counselor. 

And going full circle to my comments about not wanting people to feel sorry for me.  I don’t, I don’t deserve it, there are many people out there who do.  But I really do appreciate how so many people have been so supportive as I’ve shared my journey.  Whether it’s little comments, private messages, words of encouragement, they do mean so much.  Just knowing people care, that makes all the difference in the world.  I’m still not sure I will allow myself to forgive myself, to remove myself from the judgment seat, but I’m so thankful that there are so many of you who seem to be able to accept me for who I am.  

Sinking Deep(er)

“We’re sitting here with you,” said Pooh, “because we are your friends.  And true friends don’t care if someone is feeling Sad, or Alone, or Not Much Fun To Be Around At All.  True friends are there for you anyway.  And so here we are.”

Back in March, I wrote a blog post titled “Sinking Deep”.  As I noted, I have written various blog posts about depression, but this was the first time I truly looked in the mirror, and wrote about my experiences with depression.  As I noted, when “life happens”, I can sink pretty deep, and unfortunately, life has really happened in the last few months. 

•           My Mom’s twin brother, Uncle Bob died.  Uncle Bob was 90, he led an incredible life, so it can be hard to mourn in a sense, but Uncle Bob was a huge influence on my journey of faith.  It was hard to see him go, especially with how close my Mom is with her siblings.

•           Barbara Battin ended her 36-year journey with cancer.  Barbara was one of the most unique and amazing people I’ve ever met, and while I was happy to see her out of pain, it’s still hard to see someone go.  I could say so many great things about Barbara and what she meant to this world, but what will always stick with me is she always, consistently asked me how Patrick was doing.  She never failed.  

•           My nephew Michael succumbed to addiction and had an overdose.  Michael always had a special place in my heart because of his relationship with my Dad.  It was magical to see the two of them together. 

•           And there was more, but for personal reasons, I can’t share that, but I had other setbacks that had a huge impact.

Needless to say, I am sinking deep.  I am losing the battle right now, I’m struggling each day, and each day is a battle to overcome the waves.  I just can’t get over them, I have some good days, but for the most part, each day is a struggle, each day is a battle.  Now, having said that, before anyone gets too concerned, like my Mom, I’m not suicidal, I really don’t ever see that as a viable option, but it doesn’t mean that each day isn’t a challenge for me.

I had noted in my blog post, I have avoided counseling, I have avoided drugs, and I believed that I can deal with this more effectively on my own and I can help others to a greater extent if I truly experience the depths of my depression.  When I said that, I received some pushback from a good friend in Dayton, Karl Sparklin.  Well, maybe it was more of Karl calling bullshit on me, but he said, “I’m glad you draw strength and inspiration from various passive experiences like church sermons that you mention.  But as you know, depression is a deep and powerful illness, and you will have to combat it more directly and intensively than say, having Lent show up.”

I always receive and listen to advice and constructive criticism with a discerning ear, I know I can always improve.  But, I quickly dismissed what Karl had to say, he doesn’t know me like I know me.  And then Karl got to experience what Laurel always painfully experiences – The Megan Kearney Effect.  In simple terms The Megan Kearney Effect is like this – Laurel says “the sky is blue”.  I disagree.  Megan Kearney tells me, “the sky is blue”.  I go home and tell Laurel, “the sky is blue, Megan Kearney told me it was”. 

After I had posted my blog, I was at Ebb & Flow, and Megan approached me.  She had read my blog, and she said to me, “You know, when you don’t think you need counseling or you don’t need drugs, it could be your brain is lying to you and telling you that everything is fine.” 

What?  I know, I know, I know.  Megan has told me many times, my brain lies to me, my brain tells me stories, gives me an alternate reality, leads me down a path, but I never considered that when I believed I didn’t need counseling, didn’t need drugs, everything was OK, and I could get through this on my own, my brain may be lying to me.  It was such a lightbulb moment, and I felt so stupid.  And of course, Megan told me the same thing Karl did, but in a much more palatable way.  Or something like that.

So I got inspiration from Megan, and OK I’ll begrudgingly give Karl credit too, to finally seek out counseling.  I haven’t gone to counseling for years, and out of the handfuls of counselors I’ve gone to, I can count on one finger a good one that I saw.  But, I’m committed to give this a shot, and I will keep on searching until I do find a good one.  I’m not committed to drugs, I have not taken any type of medicine for anything for I don’t know how many years, and I really don’t plan to start.  I think, or I hope, I can do this if I can find a good counselor.

And I got inspiration from Barbara Battin, and also from her husband Jim Clay.  Jim had noted that Barbara never viewed her 36 years with cancer as a battle, she viewed it as a part of her journey.  Now, I’ve lost a great deal of family and friends to cancer, so I would never equate depression to cancer, but I thought to myself, maybe I need to have a different view on this.  Maybe I need to start looking at this as my journey with depression rather than a battle with depression. 

You know, I really get it, I really understand why so many of you don’t understand.  I have the most incredible life possible, I have no right, no business to be depressed.  But then again, when Jaromir Jagr once said, “I feel like I’m dying alive” when he was one of the greatest hockey players in the world, he probably had no right to feel depressed.  But he did, and I do too.  Recently I had that conversation with my Mom, and I understand her concern, her wanting to understand, but there is no understanding, it is.  I’ve gone through that same frustration with Patrick, trying to understand why in the Hell he is depressed, but he is. 

I’ve decided, right or wrong, good or bad, I’m going to share my journey.  I’m hopeful that maybe it can be helpful to at least someone.  As I always note with my blog posts, if one person can get something out of it, I’ll feel I’ve been successful.  I’m moving from fighting a battle to setting out on a journey, and I am inviting you all along with me.  Let’s see if we can learn some things together.  

How Long Must We Sing This Song?

I can't believe the news today

Oh, I can't close my eyes

And make it go away

How long?

How long must we sing this song?

How long, how long?

When I got the call from my brother Jim about 10 o’clock on Thursday night, lying in my hotel room, that line just kept running through my head.  How long must we sing this song? My nephew Michael had passed, he overdosed on drugs, and really, in regard to that part of it, that’s all I know, and to be honest, I really don’t want or need to know anymore.  I woke up many times that night, kept thinking, did this really happen, and then would realize, yes, it had.  I couldn’t make it go away, no matter how hard I tried.

Whether it’s depression, suicide, alcohol, drugs, addiction, an overdose, my due apologies to Shakespeare for butchering his beautiful line, but “a rose by any other name would smell as putrid”.  I know I have no facts, no statistics, purely anecdotal, but I just feel like we are losing way too many young people, and as I note, I really don’t care which one it is or was, it’s devastating to lose any one of them.  I’ve just grown too weary of seemingly fighting a losing battle.  But those of you who know me, you do know, I won’t ever give up this fight. 

While I know a lot about depression, and far more than I’d like about suicide, I know absolutely nothing about addiction or the potential result, an overdose.  I’m pretty passionate about depression and suicide, and I found I met my match in my niece Molly when it comes to addiction.  As we talked, what struck me was one of my favorite lines that I’ve learned from our yoga instructor, Megan Kearney:  “Your brain is lying to you”.  I’ve found so many times through my life through depression that my brain lies to me, and it tells me that I don’t need help, I don’t need counseling, whatever.  It would appear from talking to Molly that those who suffer from addiction face a similar battle against a lying brain.

While there are many who would love to help those of us with depression or addiction issues, sadly, it’s not an easy road to help those in need.  It has to come from within them for a change to happen.  Jim had said to me that he feels like he failed, he should have done more.  I feel the same way, Laurel and I had thought about buying Michael a yoga book that dealt with addiction, I had thought about reaching out to Michael, and I didn’t.  So I also carry a certain level of guilt.  But, as I said, it comes from within the person, and until they see a change is needed, it just won’t happen.  I’ve often quoted the following from “A River Runs Through It”.  It is from a sermon from Reverend Maclean after the death of his son, and unfortunately, there is too much truth to it.

“Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one and with need, ask the same question: ‘We are willing to help, God, but what, if anything, is needed?’  For it’s true we can seldom help those closest to us.  Either we don’t know what part of ourselves to give, or more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so it is those whom we live with and should know who elude us, but we can still love them.  We can love completely without complete understanding.”

So again, I ain’t giving up, but this time, I’m going to take a completely different approach to see if I can gain some traction.  And as people who know me know, my goal with a blog post is to reach one person.  If one person reads this, and they get something out of it, I consider it a success.  I’ll call it the “It’s a Wonderful Life” approach, and again, my apologies to Shakespeare, who I keep butchering, “I come to praise Michael, not to bury him”.  I remember:

• I remember when Michael was a baby, when he was a toddler.  He had a big, round head, but

even bigger brown eyes.  His eyes were so expressive, he was mischievous and laughed a lot.  One of my favorite stories was the time he was walking in the yard at my parents’ house, and he looked down, pointed and said, “Poop!  Right there!  Pappap, you clean it up!”  I’m not quite sure Pappap saw quite the humor we all saw, but we laughed and laughed.  Michael also always seemed to be at the center of everything.  The picture at the right is from one of our family reunions.  Michael is the

one in the red shirt and sunglasses being held by my Uncle Bob.  Each year, we would do family pictures for each of my Mom’s sisters and brother’s immediate families.  Michael appeared in every single family picture that year, wearing those sunglasses.

• Right after I got married to Laurel, Jim and I were taking a CPA review course, and we would be gone all day on Saturdays.  Michael and his sister Emily, who was one year older, would spend the day at my parents’ house with Laurel.  One thing about Michael, he really didn’t like to nap.  So when Jim and I would get home that early evening, Michael was pretty tired and grumpy.  I remember him standing up against the couch, and he’d be dead asleep.  You’d try to get him to lie down, but that would just make him mad.  Some other “moments” from those Saturdays that I loved:

• Laurel once got the wisdom of Solomon when Michael and Emily were fighting over an empty paper towel roll holder.  Just as she was cutting the cardboard in two, Michael screamed out, “Don’t cut it!”  Too late.  Michael was not a happy boy at that point.
• Dinnertime used to be a pleasure, as noted, Michael hadn’t napped, and he would just mumble and sit there dozing off.  He always wanted to sit by Pappap, even then Pappap was his favorite, and I remember Pappap asking him if he wanted ketchup on his hamburger.  Michael mumbled a bit, and I guess Pappap thought he wanted ketchup, and just as he squirted it on the burger, Michael started screaming.  Emily then interjected, “Pappap, Michael doesn’t like ketchup on his hamburger!”  It seems Pappap was the butt of a lot of these stories. 

• After we moved away, Laurel and I would visit periodically, over holidays or the summer.  Michael was extremely competitive, and I remember he’d want me to hit him fly balls, and he would practice catching them.  Sadly, I wasn’t always the best at hitting fly balls, and Michael would get so angry at me.  But that never matched the wrath I received when we’d play foosball.  It would typically be Jim and Emily against Michael and me.  I definitely wasn’t the best foosball player, and Michael let me know it when I screwed up.  If you could have seen the intensity when Jim or Emily scored, or Heaven forbid, beat us. 

• As years went by, the visits became less frequent.  When I was able to see Michael in the later years, as a teen or as a young adult, what amazed me was his relationship with my Dad.  I always struggled in my relationship with my Dad, but that was more about me rather than him.  Especially in the later years, it had a lot to do with patience, which I didn’t have enough of, but Michael, he had so much patience with my Dad.  If you could have seen them together, they would be talking to each other, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the room.  When Michael had troubles along the way, my Dad always defended Michael, he was always a huge fan.  And Michael always spent time, listening to my Dad, talking to him, being so much kinder and gentler to him than I ever was.  I envied him for their relationship, but I was so happy for the relationship they had.  More than

anything else, that was the biggest reason Michael always had a special place in my heart.

• In the last couple of years, what was amazing was seeing Michael with his children, Daphne and Elliot.  Remember those brown eyes I talked about when he was a baby and toddler?  If you could see those brown eyes light up around his children, it was magical.  They gave him such joy, and that joy showed so vividly when you saw Michael.  He was so patient and loving to Daphne and Elliot, I wish I could have been near the father he was.

Five snippets, five snapshots from a life too brief.  Michael really touched my life, he left me with many memories, but also with a very big hole for the memories that I won’t get to experience since he’s gone.  And the five memories I gave you pale in comparison to the 500 or 5,000 that his immediate family could share with you. 

As each of us ponders our life, who have we touched?  Who have we made a difference for in their lives?  I believe that if you think about it, you could come up with a great number of people who you have had an impact on, and who would really miss you if you were gone. When you make choices in your life, whether it’s suicide, addiction, drug or alcohol abuse, you are impacting more people than you could probably imagine.  Doesn’t that make it a life worth living? 

I would encourage you to take the “It’s a Wonderful Life” view and challenge yourself, what would the lives around me be like, if I would have never been born, or if I went away today.  I can unequivocally guarantee you, you will see that your life is worth more than you ever imagined.  And if you do see this, I will tell you in this case, your brain is not lying to you.