What It's Like to Not Be Depressed

I’ve been blissfully up lately. Let me tell you what that means for the way I perceive the world.

There are two basic cognitive issues that plague me when I’m down. The first is a perception of worthlessness. The second is the perception of friendlessness. Tangential to both of these is a sense of hopelessness that neither of these will be rectified and an inability to keep from obsessing over them. That means that I have difficulty concentrating on other things. I’ve learned to use prayer to help me focus on other things.

There is one obvious physical manifestation of being down. That’s sleeplessness. That’s a clear sign that this is a physical problem and not merely a psychological one. I have trouble going to sleep and when I do get to sleep, I have trouble staying asleep. My body is not only failing to produce the neurotransmitters and hormones that affect mood, but the hormones that regulate sleep.

But inasmuch as mood alters perception, there is some truth behind what is being perceived. I know that I have gifts that are being underutilized. Therefore, I have a limited value in my usefulness. It’s also true that I don’t have particularly close friends. I went to a restaurant alone last night. Several other people in my church were there already. They said hello but no one joined me. Some others from my church came in last night.

The difference between being up or down is that when I’m up, it doesn’t matter as much. I can pick up a piece of trash from the floor and feel like I did something worthwhile. I feel freer to say things that seem to me to be off-the-wall to other people because I don’t care that they think I’m strange for saying them. I can walk away feeling like I matter at least a little bit to someone because I was able to same something.

When I’m down, I perceive the futility in everything I do. Even if I do something worthwhile, it seems as though it didn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things. I tend not to talk to people unless they talk to me without much effort to making the words come out. So I don’t say anything unless I can justify the energy. People come up to me and act like they care because several people know that I suffer from bouts of depression. To me it seems like they only care because they feel that they have to, not because they want to. It’s not like if I sat down alone at a restaurant that they would walk in and joyfully join me. They would join other people, but not me. And I know this because when I’m up I see the evidence of it. It matters more to me that I have trouble forming deep friendships with people when I’m depressed.

So, for the time being, I’m up. I’m happy enough in my own skin. The dread that the distant storm will approach hangs over me like the sword of Damocles. I’ll enjoy the calm weather while I can.

Being Satisfied

So I’ve been “up” the past week or so. I like feeling good about myself in general. As I mentioned, I try to find good experiences with people during these times so that I have something to go on when a depressive episode hits. Unfortunately, I don’t have anyone outside the family to hang with really. Nor am I worth much to anyone ministerially.

This depressing fact was emphasized in church yesterday. The sermon landed on the Biblical metaphor of Jesus being the water of life and those that are thirsty finding satisfaction in him. The pastor listed examples of things we thirst for. Included in these are two things that I really thirst for: relationship and significance. The answer is that I can find those things satisfied in Christ.

Now, it’s not that I don’t know that. Of course I do. The question I have is how that works. What does he mean that I should just trust Christ for those things? Does he mean that I should just go hide somewhere and not engage other people so as to fellowship with them or minister to them? I don’t think he meant that, but I do think he meant to answer the idea that people like me don’t seem satisfied with being worthless or friendless in that we shouldn’t be restless or unsatisfied about it.

Is there anything that we should be unsatisfied about? Yes. Sin. Ok, we shouldn’t be so unsatisfied that we neglect the grace of God. But if we have the Holy Spirit we will be convicted about our sin. That means that we will not be satisfied with committing sin and want to change. Will we still sin or learn of things that are sins that we have been committing that should want to change? Yes. It’s called sanctification. We should desire ever-increasing piety, never satisfied to simply stagnate in our walk with Christ.

But Paul taught about the Body of Christ where we minster in and among each other in the name of Christ. When I was in Bible College, we learned about networking for the sake of having more fruitful ministries. I knew then that such would not be my strong point. Nevertheless, I strove to network. I still suck at it. Consequently, I’m still relatively worthless in any kind of ministry.

It seems we should not be satisfied with the state of affairs in our ministries. Good Christian leaders have a vision to accomplish something that is not accomplished yet. They aren’t satisfied. So they push to be satisfied in accomplishing their vision, and all in the name of Christ.

When I receive some general counsel that I should be satisfied only with Christ and not unsatisfied with being friendless and worthless, I don’t see how that marries with any doctrine regarding the Body of Christ. Surely my pastor isn’t saying that I should quit coming to church and quit trying to minister to someone. Perhaps he just wants me to sit down and shut up; to just show up on Sundays and Wednesdays, be quiet and pay my tithes. Surely not. I think he knows that that would be a nominal Christian. So once again my question:

How does one reconcile only being satisfied in Christ with participating meaningfully in the Body of Christ?

Anyone?

A Social Conundrum

Conundrums occur when you are depressed that don’t exist (so much) when you are not depressed. This has led to some thoughts that explain theological tension in a sinful world, but I’ll leave that for my non-anonymous blog.

For me, when I’m feeling better about life, I know to look for good experiences to shore up to serve as evidence to use against faulty reasoning when I’m depressed. One area I tend to obsess over when I am depressed is the lack of deep friendship in my life. Because of this, I look for examples of deep friendship when I am not depressed.

The problem is that I don’t have deep friendship even when I’m not depressed. Generally, I can get along with just mild interaction with people. However, when I do get depressed I don’t have the evidence of having friends.

What’s worse, is that I don’t have deep friendship I can rely on. But I do have mild friendship I can rely on. But what’s depressing is that if I tell people I’m feeling depressed then word will get around and people will treat me nicely or walk on eggshells. So I get extra “friend-like” attention although the friendship is not genuine. If the friendship were genuine, then they would treat me that way when I wasn’t depressed even though I need it just as badly. They each have their real friends they hang out with. Me? Nada.

Nobody truly cares. That’s depressing.

Good Conversations

I wrote about how rare good conversations are. Well, I had a good conversation a couple of days ago. I ran sound for a wedding yesterday and was there for the rehearsal the night before. Although I’m uncomfortable at such events where I generally don’t know many people, I show up and try to socialize even though I’m not good at it.

The father of the bride goes to my church and he didn’t look like he was keen on being there either, so we started talking and spent the evening keeping each other company. He really seemed like he was grateful for the company.

So I’m grateful to God for the interaction of a brother in Christ. I know it may sound creepy to some people, but I get it rarely enough that I treasure such times. Some people are blessed with friendship with others such that they have no idea what it’s like to be without it.

The sad part is that although I had a good conversation with someone, two facts temper my excitement: First, it will likely not lead to a deep friendship since one like that hasn’t happened yet. Second, it will be a while before another good conversation comes along. So good conversations are certainly welcome, but ultimately depressing.

Perhaps the benefit is that they go a long way to helping me not become bitter or hardened. I know that I’m not the most comfortable person to hang around with because I’m awkward. I know that I hold little promise of someone being proud of knowing that they have anything to do with me. While that is not a good reason to deny Christian fellowship to someone, no one is perfect, including Christians. I can’t blame people for not wanting to hang out with me in their spare time, so I’ll take it when it happens unintentionally and be grateful for it although it’s still depressing.

Friendlessness and Fellowshipping

Fellowship is a significant part of life in the Body of Christ. It’s the natural part of people who enjoy being with each other and the means by which we encourage and exhort each other outside of the sermon and hold each other accountable. It’s the primary method the Holy Spirit uses to work out our sanctification.

So when does a typical church enjoy this necessary fellowship? It doesn’t happen during a worship service. Unless your Sunday School or Bible Study class is merely social it doesn’t happen during that time. Unless there is a special time set aside, churches only fellowship before or after services or classes. People might develop deeper relationships and meet somewhere outside of church for that fellowship we all need. If you can’t develop those kinds of relationships, you never get the fellowship you need to grow effectively as a Christian.

So let’s take Sunday morning for example. Those short before and after times are filled with most people giving courtesy checks:

“How’s it going?”

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.”

Most people don’t expect, or likely they don’t hope, others to actually have any problems. What would someone say if they asked someone how they were doing and they got this answer:

“Well, not too good. I don’t think I have any friends.”

I imagine they might respond, “Well, uh, sorry to hear that. Let me know if I can do anything.” All the while they are really thinking how they could get out of talking to this person any more. So let’s imagine a typical Sunday after church or even a special fellowship event…

I arrive and look around to see if anyone notices me. No one does. So I look for someone.
I see someone I know talking to someone else. Maybe I’ll try saying hello. So I walk up and neither notice me right away. So I stand there. Someone else comes by and says hello and immediately walks away after I return their hello. Realizing that no one is particularly interested in me, I go and hang out in a corner to see if anyone comes up. A few people pass by and say hello, but no one cares to stop.

Suddenly, someone comes up and says hello. I practice what I’ve read about in good conversationalism and ask him something about himself. So he launches into a lengthy monolog about something that interests him. I pay attention, but have no ability to interject other than a simple, “Uh-huh…sure…no kidding…that’s something else…”

Otherwise, I just hang out there alone. Someone sees me and tries to talk. They ask a question that I know they really don’t want me spending all day answering, but I start to talk anyway. Before a couple of sentences are finished someone else comes up and the person I’m with is obviously glad to have someone else to talk to for a while.

I've been advised by my counselor, who wouldn't give me the time of day were it not her job, to "just put yourself out there." The method for doing such a thing effectively eludes me.

A couple of times a year, perhaps, someone will engage me with a fruitful conversation or actually spend some time together at some event. It doesn't end up as a deeper long-lasting friendship however. So this is my depressing social life.

What shall I make of this in light of what we are supposed to be as the Body of Christ? Some may be tempted to shake their fist at God and lose faith. But if God wanted me to have a friend he would give me one. Since he hasn't, then I can only conclude that God doesn't want me to have a deep friendship with someone. That's his prerogative. My fate is to deal with the fallout of exacerbated depression in light of a few individuals who unwittingly patronize me with disingenuous concern. Now I could let my heart grow cold and hard against people, but I want to honestly love them with the love of Christ. So I bear their ignorance toward my condition.

If you suffer from depression and are similarly awkward socially and relatively unable to develop deep and lasting relationships, I urge you to strive diligently not to blame people for their ignorance and unconcern. Forgive them and accept God's lonely purpose in your life.

If you don't suffer from depression, but know someone who does and is socially awkward, then my advice is to not be disingenuous toward them. If you don't love them in Christ enough to try to care for them, then don't pretend that you do. Don't also pretend that it's okay not to love your brother or sister in need. Pray that God warms your heart because your heart is cold.

If, on the other hand, you do love your brother or sister who suffers from depression, then by all means, a) adopt them as your own friend and b) strive sacrificially to help them learn to behave less awkwardly. People like me need people like you because frankly most people really don't love us that much - and that's depressing.