I have been struggling more with depression in the last few weeks and it deflates my energy for social media. I kept trying to process the feelings because it always helps me work through to a better place if I can identify the source of my emotions, but I could get nowhere with it, so I used busyness as an alternative escape. I think I have finally identified the source… Kimberly’s discouragement at work. Not only do I suffer because she suffers, but both of us continue to be inspired by the L’Arche vision (even though I resigned a year and a half ago) and we have kept hope alive that this L’Arche community would find its way through the turmoil to a place of genuine L’Arche living. With Kimberly now having doubts after hanging in there so long, it is the slow death of our dreams for a community that embraces weakness as a core value. This is why we moved to Lynchburg in the first place, and it leaves a sense of emptiness, uncertainty, pain, loss.
Archive for the ‘depression’ Tag
Silent Struggles Leave a comment
What Do You Think? 6 comments
In a message to a friend I wrote the following some time back. I would love to get everyone’s thoughts, to get a dialogue going. Are you game?
When I said that different folks are helped in different ways (and by different kinds of people), I meant that even the downcast are each sad in his or her own way, with unique history, issues, perspectives, coping strategies, resources and the like. When I was struggling in Calcutta with deep depression, a well-wisher sent me a copy of “Spiritual Depression” by a noted evangelical writer. The author’s premise was that depression always arises from a lack of faith. I have discovered in my own life that depression and sadness may be a demonstration of a much deeper faith. Many people are too afraid (i.e. lack the faith) to allow themselves any unpleasant feelings. They constantly keep such feelings at bay by various means of escape (entertainment, overwork, even reading the Bible). It often takes a great deal of courage (i.e. faith) to acknowledge one’s unpleasant feelings, and if we push those feelings away, we will never discover what they are trying to tell us about ourselves.
So many folks are also afraid that not challenging their friend’s moodiness will encourage him either to mope and cling to his depression (a “pity party”) or to use his depression to manipulate others. These two unhealthy responses do occur. On the one hand, no one is completely honest, even with themselves, about their feelings. So some folks use depression to avoid their true feelings because of fear of acknowledging their anger or sadness or pain (just as other folks use cheerfulness to avoid their genuine emotions). On the other hand, they may use their depression to try to control others. The solution for both types of folks is not to push them out of feeling sad, however, but to help them discover their true feelings beneath their depression while maintaining good boundaries relationally and emotionally (i.e. not yielding to manipulation).
Some folks want you to cheer them up from their sadness, either because they are not ready to face their deep unpleasant feelings or because their sadness is superficial and probably only circumstantial. (After all, no one likes to feel depressed—everyone would rather always be genuinely cheerful if it came with no negative side effects.) They may in fact need “cheering up,” though in my perspective even these folks are usually more benefited by an expression of sympathy for their sadness, at least initially and tentatively: an offer to be with them in their pain, if they wish, instead of helping them to avoid it.
Does “Selfless” Mean Having No Self? 7 comments
After writing about my “Aha” moment, I found it was not such a new discovery after all, because I journaled about it months ago. It was something I had started to learn and then forgot. In the past I would have judged myself for this “neglect of the truth,” but I’ve discovered that this is how I learn… with fits and starts, do-overs and false leads. Here is my entry, a more insightful “Aha” about forced compliance (slightly edited to make sense to others):
I realize why I have been feeling increasingly depressed, and it is a long term, pervasive problem. Although it involves performance, it is not tied to “should” or “well done” (big issues for me). It is rather anchored by a sheer “must,” tasks about which I feel I have no choice. Although obligation may also be part of the driving force, it is not uppermost—failure to do what should be done results in guilt and shame, but failure to do what must be done results in anxiety. It is a direct appeal to the will rather than the conscience.
In childhood when my parents told me to do something “Now!” in sharp anger, I reacted out of sheer compulsion. I responded quickly in fear—well, not in conscious fear, since the idea of disobedience was too remote to have the consequences of that even occur to me. It was a stronger and quicker motivator to compliance than an appeal to obligation or shame. It completely bypassed my ability to think regarding the matter and was reflexive, like jerking the steering wheel to avoid a collision. There is no consciousness of fear in such a situation—it is first react, and then feel—and if the danger and escape are both over in a flash, there may not even be an aftershock of fear, perhaps not even of relief.
Whenever authority figures take charge with an obvious and absolute expectation of compliance, I feel I have no choice. The thing must be done without a single additional consideration. Only in the case where the demand was to break a clear moral standard did I stop to consider and refuse, but this was simply because there was a higher authority still, namely God, the one of whom I was most afraid. “Because I said so” was a common enough reason offered by mom to insist on obedience regardless of how we felt, what we wanted, or what opposing reasons we offered.
When an absolute is imposed on the will, the damage to self worth does not come through a sense of shame, but through a sense that someone else’s will and wish has priority over mine, that I am more or less a cog in the wheel of the accomplishment of their objectives. It is the worth-denying position of a slave. It is very depersonalizing to know that one’s feelings do not matter, and that is the real crux of the situation. If something really must be done and I must do it out of personal necessity (in other words, I don’t want to suffer the consequences of it not being done) and I am acting out of that motivation, it does not feel as though my feelings are being scorned.
But naturally the same action can spring from different motivations, so I can perform the act out of a sense of powerlessness and disrespect leveraged against me, or out of my sense of what is best for my own needs. Even if the pressure is there from an authority figure, or from someone whose opinion or valuation of me I feel a need, I can still learn to respond out of a different motivation, a motivation that validates my own feelings and chooses based on what is best for myself. Of course, keeping that person’s good will or affection may seem paramount to me, but then the two different motivations appear to coalesce, and I am not free. In such a situation I need to ponder the next lower level in my psyche—the co-dependence I am feeling—and work through that issue until I am free enough to respond without undermining my self worth.
The key for me is to bring these dynamics to consciousness and then try to support and affirm my desires and fears. I think there are many ways I can do this. I can adjust the time frame, the means to the goal, the goal itself, and in other ways try to accommodate my distresses and desires, but I especially need to work on understanding and redirecting the motivation out of which I choose and act. I must always stop to understand what I am feeling and why, to validate and affirm those feelings, to allow myself the human right of choice, and to choose and act from this affirmation of myself. It does not mean I will refuse to act in the best interest of others. My soul needs its true feelings affirmed, not necessarily fulfilled in that moment. I believe affirming my own longings is a cornerstone of self-care, not selfishness.
Lost Leave a comment
I have driven some roads so often that they become like grooves or ruts in my subconscious, and if my mind is working on a tricky problem, I may end up on my home street with an empty tank instead of at the gas station where I was headed. At the other end of the spectrum are those places I have been once or twice a long time back. The first turn off the main road seems right… I think I remember that red mailbox… was the street named Malcolm or Mercury or… Whitmore?… wait, this is not right, I’ll try the other street. If I am in the countryside, low on gas, and out of cellphone range, anxiety starts pricking my stomach… and rural routes are often unmarked, on signs as well as maps.
That contrast reflects my history. I lived most of my life following the clear, unambiguous way, The Plan, until it ran me smack into the wall. But once I realized the way ahead was not obvious, certain, simple, or predictable, I couldn’t figure out what to do. I have a general sense of direction and a rough idea of how to proceed, but am thoroughly befuddled about how to make daily choices. I don’t do well with ambiguity. It makes me feel insecure, confused, and tired. In the past, my certainty protected me, but I can no longer trust that crutch. Some folks might advise to “just let it go,” allow myself to muddle through and make mistakes, but I don’t have enough emotional capital to freely make mistakes. Every time I make a wrong turn, I run out of gas and clunk to a halt or avoid running out of gas by dropping to a crawl.
One of the serious handicaps I work with is a history of denying, ignoring, shaming, and attacking my own needs and desires. By the time I reached adulthood, I no longer knew what was or was not good for my soul, or rather I strongly believed that the poison I constantly fed myself was the best of vitamins. After 40 years of feeding myself a smorgasbord of shame, I am tone deaf to my own needs, and every choice seems to be lined with pitfalls. If I push myself to do some unwanted task, will I be stoking the lie that the task is more important than I am… or conversely, if I resist doing the task will I be setting myself up for self-judgment about irresponsibility. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
The healthy third way is for me to dig down into the reason I feel reluctant to do the deed, feel compassion for my personal wants, needs, fears, confusion (i.e. receive the grace of God for who I am and what I am in right now), and out of that settled security, choose one way or the other. Unfortunately my grasp of God’s grace is never “settled,” but is tangled up with a lifetime of skewed perspectives, twisted dynamics, and profoundly ingrained feelings. The best faith I can muster is usually a mixed affair, and in such a situation, neither decision is going to work out well. That is to say, down either path I will find myself fighting against a new pressure to feel shame. Even if I come out on top of that fight, I will be exhausted, and have little strength for the next round. In the main, I am growing in grace, but so slowly and with such toll that I usually feel I am barely holding on.
I do have eddies of peace or splashes of joy along the way, but that is not the flow of my life, and no amount of positive thinking will make it so. My hope is that grace will one day make a deep and strong enough current in my heart to buoy me through the rapids.
It helps to talk about it. Thanks for listening.
Janathan Grace Reflections 