Christians and Depression

By now, we all know the tragic story of Robin Williams ending his own life. It's...man, it's hard to think about.
"He was so funny! His life was great! He was rich! He always looked so happy!"
Did you have any of those thoughts when you heard the news?
I admit, shamefully, that my first instinct was to think that way.
Because we don't know the personal struggles he was going through. Sure, we knew he battled depression and addictions, but we couldn't possibly know how it was consuming his life.

Or were your thoughts more along these lines:
"I would NEVER do that. How selfish of him. Depression isn't that bad...he didn't have to end his life because of it."

If I may say this: how dare you? HOW DARE YOU??

What right do you have to judge and point fingers when you don't know the whole situation? (By the way, this applies to all of life.)
Oh, it's easier that way though, isn't it? To stand back and whisper and shake our heads sadly, while saying to ourselves and our friends that we're glad it isn't us or anyone we personally know.

I can guarantee you...and I'm completely confident in this...that every person reading this knows someone who deals with depression.
Who's considered suicide or maybe even attempted suicide.
And I can just as confidently promise you that you are the last person they'll tell, if your first reaction was to judge.
Why?
Because they've seen your heart and know you're full of judgment.
And that's the last thing they need.

Maybe you're telling yourself that I'm wrong and no one in your life is depressed.
Don't kid yourself, okay? Please don't be that ignorant.
Everyone you know has things in their past that you know nothing about and that they likely have buried under years of hiding it and pretending it doesn't exist.
But it's there and it eats at them.
So they put up walls, hide under protective shells, wear masks, all in the attempt to keep it together for ONE more day.
It's heartbreaking.

I know several people who've lost someone to suicide.
So, of course, I walked up to them and said, "How selfish of them. I just can't believe it. So how are you doing with all this?"

Yeah, no. Didn't do that, will never do that. Because why should we heap guilt on anyone who's dealing with that? A better way to ask that is: What RIGHT do we have to do that? They've just gone through a terrible loss that they're probably already feeling guilt over. They're most likely already going over all scenarios and trying to think of what they should've done differently.

Don't add to that. Don't be that person.

What they need now, most of all, is love and grace.
They need to know that you're there for them, regardless.
That you care.
That you won't speak poorly of any decisions made.
Above all, that you won't pass judgment.

And people who are going through depression?
They also need love and grace.
They need to know that you aren't going to abandon them.
That you'll sit with them, even if neither one of you talks at all.
That if they do talk, you'll listen.
They need to be loved by you the way Jesus would love them.

And He would.
He would sit and listen.
Listen and love.
Love and cry with them.
Hold them while they cried.
Let them know it's safe to trust Him.

Are you safe to trust?

If you're depressed or have suicidal thoughts, please know there's no shame in it. There are real, genuine people who care and want to help.
I'm one of them.

Because this is so important to me, here are some resources if you need someone to talk to:

http://brokenbelievers.com/247-crisis-lines/
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org 
1-800-273-TALK (8255)

Remember: You're valuable, you're loved, and you matter.

Accepting Love

Charlie: Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?

Bill: Are we talking about anyone specific?

Charlie: Yes.

Bill: Well, we accept the love we think we deserve.

Charlie: Can we make them know that they deserve more?

Bill: We can try.

(The Perks of Being a Wallflower)

I love this conversation. 

As much as it breaks my heart, I love it. 

Because, how true is it? 

(And I believe this applies/can apply to all areas of life, not just dating.)

Think about this:

There are people who don't accept love. They don't know how to. 

They want to, but...can't.

Sounds crazy, doesn't it?

They've spent so much time having to earn love and always falling short that they assume any genuine act of love...isn't genuine.

They see it either as an obligation or a duty.

Have you ever met someone who didn't think they were worth anything? 

Who degraded themselves? 

Who let people walk all over them and manipulate them?

Who constantly put themselves down, because that's what's been done to them?

Who kept searching for love and never seemed to find it?

Maybe you know someone like that right now.

Maybe YOU are that someone.

If you do know someone like that, I hope they'll realize how valuable they are and that they learn to accept love.

If you are the one who has a hard time accepting love, I hope you'll learn to surround yourself with real, genuine, loving people who will help you.

Do I have the answer of how to accept love?

No. I'm attempting to figure it out for myself, in my own life.

But I've been learning and will keep trying, as painful and frustrating as it can be.

Bowling and the Flu

When I was a kid, from the ages of 10-13, I believe, my family and I would go to family camp at Pillsbury Baptist Bible College.

During the day, and especially since I was younger, we got to do the fun stuff: field trips, fun activities, going off campus to different locations (all code phrases for field trips). Our leaders were twin sisters who were a TON of fun and awesome at finding great ways to kill time in between activities.

One day, the activity was bowling. I've never really cared for bowling, but there was no way I'd get out of going...not that I was going to try to. I hadn't reached my rebellious phase yet, plus I had a healthy fear of authority and of making people mad (okay, so anyone who knew/knows me knows that only came/comes sporadically).

That day, however, I woke up with a terrible pain in my stomach (I would later learn it was something called the stomach flu, which I didn't remember ever having before), so I had even less of a desire to eat, ride in a crowded, loud van, talk to people, bowl, or do anything that didn't involve laying perfectly still. I didn't get sick often, so I didn't know how to handle the pain I was feeling. And that's either because I got sick big time when I was a kid (scarlet fever and chicken pox were the main ones), so my immune system was hardcore, or because I was kept in a bubble and away from all germs and bacteria. I don't remember ever being confined like that, so I guess I'm gonna have to go with the first option.

On the way to the bowling alley, I remember sitting in the van as close to the window as I could. I just sat with my cheek pressed against the glass, trying desperately not to move at all.
You know the feeling right before you need to throw up?
All the saliva that suddenly just FLOODS your mouth?
Yeah, I wasn't used to that and didn't realize what it meant, so I just kept swallowing frantically because I thought that's what you're supposed to do. Also because I thought it meant I was dying and I didn't want to die that day (to be clear: I still don't know how to handle that).

So we got there and I don't remember doing any bowling at all. I sat very still, without moving, on one of those impossibly uncomfortable twirly chairs. The field trip took about 17 years, it felt. (I don't remember enough about anything else we did there, except bowl. So that's all I have to say about it.)

17 years later, we left...only to go to a restaurant. McDonald's, probably. It was such a torturous trip! I just wanted to go to bed!

Finally.
Finally.
Finally.
We got back to campus.
I don't remember saying anything to anyone, I just booked it back to my dorm room so I could lay down.

I climbed up onto the top bunk (which, in hindsight, I shouldn't have done), laid down, then promptly leaned over and threw up onto the floor.
Then I fell asleep.

My mom came in the room after their session or activity or date or musical dance number (I have no idea what the adults did during the day), took one look at the floor and said, "Oh, EMILY! This is so gross!" (I don't remember her exact words...)

Then she got a mop and cleaned it up.

And I was back to the field trips/fun activities/going off campus to different locations by the next day.
It was just like a fairy tale!
Just kidding, it sucked, and having the stomach flu is the worst.

But I'm a survivor.