An intro: I originally posted this on alt.support.depression nearly a
year ago (December 29) today. I decided it might fit here as well.

Be interested to say what type of responses I can get. Hopefully
intelligence discussion will ensue.

(Spoilers: depression, philosophy, religion, etc)

NOTE: I had NO idea when I started this how long it would get. I just
had a lot to say, and could have easily gone on for several more
pages, but I think this is more than enough for now.

This is for myself as much as for other people, in a part of trip down
memory lane and a cautionary tale for religious people who want to
"advise" and "comfort" those with depression... It's long, but
hopefully it'll be worth reading.

For those who want to skip the long story and just get to the advice,
go up to Edit and Find and do a search for an asterisk * and it'll
take you to the place where the advice starts. (After taking you to
the one I just printed, of course.)

Several years back I was more religious (or, if you prefer, spiritual)
than what I am now. It's not something I like to talk about too much
for various reasons, but I don't know... I feel the need to discuss
this today (well, "today" being relative, since its taken me several
days to write this.).

Little over a decade ago, I was invited to a church group by a young
girl at my high school. I must admit, I mainly went because the girl
was cute and she had been very nice to me (she said "Hi" to me without
me even saying that to her first and actually spoke to me, which I
guess shows you how bad my high school social life was.) The church
itself was in a non-traditional place (actually it was a building they
had rented out that I think used to be a factory or something.) I
hadn't had much church going in my life, so I expecting the
traditional thing of pews, hymns, wearing fancy clothes etc, etc.
Course, this was the Friday youth service, but even still, I had never
been to a church where they had a band, much less one where the lead
singer played electric guitar, and had upbeat, even dare I say
"rockin" songs they even had a few secular songs rewritten with
Christian lyrics. (And yes, there were some other groups who
considered that blasphemy and irreligious.)

Anyway, this church, I guess was what some would call Fundamentalist,
although I don't know if that term completely fits. The church taught
the whole bible (Old and New), they believed in the existence of
literal demons, angels, speaking in tongues, modern day miracles, and
that God would heal you of whatever ailment if you believed enough.

To put in context though, all those ideas seemed rather mild to most
of them when you consider the number people who would tell you about
the various horrible things in their lives that were and what they
went through before getting saved. So, the really big miracle from
their view was how their hearts and minds were changed the being the
real miracle of God's power, and all the other stuff secondary.

I've heard from people who used to be alcoholics, drug
dealers/addicts, a few who had been Satanists, and a couple "regular"
people who just said they had been just "looking for something in
their lives". These weren't (for the most part) nutty, idiotic
fanatic people who you see on TV (although some did get rather excited
during services), but for the most part, they were a polite kind
bunch, a variety of ages and backgrounds.

I too felt a deep change in my life, a spiritual connection that I
never had before, and felt that I had finally found the answer I was
looking for in the meaning of life and whatnot. For the first time in
a long time, I felt at peace...

Everything was great for the first several months after this profound
experience. I was going to church regularly, getting to know
everyone, I felt excited to wake up in the morning and just be alive.
I quit watching horror films cause I didn't want to think about death
and darkness anymore, I found a lot of my old "secular" music
depressing, so I tossed it out and began to listen to only Christian
contemporary, groups I've never heard of before like Petra, DeGarmo
and Key, Altar Boys, Carmen, etc. This wasn't something anyone forced
me to do; it just felt right. I had discovered this great new thing
and wanted to totally immerse myself in it.

I found myself reaching out to people I normally wouldn't have spoken
to, trying to be friendly and not judge people on their looks or their
social status. I toned down my language, (a hard habit at first, but
go easier over time), I tried to "witness" to other people, telling
them about God and Christ because I wanted everyone to experience this
wonderful thing I had discovered.

I was still a bit of a loner in school, I had gone from being picked
on mercilessly in junior high, to be all put ignored in high school.
I mean, I could talk to just about anyone from any clique, so I good
in that sense, but I didn't have anyone I felt close to. Only a few
people from my church went to my high school (most of the other
children were usually home schooled) and I didn't really "blend in"
with all the other seemingly perfect Christians from other churches
(and some of them I felt a bit disgusted what I perceived to be their
hypocrisy.) So I had no real friends to turn to during the school
hours (or after school.)

And then, something happened... I'm not fully sure how or why... but
the depression I had been dealing with before started to come back, as
well as the feelings of loneliness and pain. The words of hope and
inspiration that they would be talking about in services just didn't
seem to inspire me anymore. Maybe part of it was when my best friend
in the church left to become a youth minister elsewhere, and I begin
that realize that a lot of my connection with other young kids my age
had gone with him.

I mean, the other people were friendly and all, mind you, but for some
reason my friend (whom I'll call Don), was the only one I really felt
comfortable sharing my more personal problems with, and just hanging
around with in general. Plus around this time I got my first job at a
local fast food joint and had to work a lot. I was one of the few
people who'd consistently come in when called, so I got called in a
lot. I started missing a lot of services because I had to work (not
to mention my grades went down a bit) and things just seemed to change
over the months I began to see the others less and less.

Or maybe the others didn't change... maybe I did, I don't know. Just
found myself in a funk more and more often.

-Now, here's the rub, many of the people (most of them well meaning,
I'm sure), believed that one could, with the power of God, take
authority over depression (and illness for that matter). The idea
comes from the New Testament where Jesus rebuked demons over various
types in his name, and gave that ability to his disciplines, and in
turn, all future believers to come. (If I had been writing this
several years back, I could probably quote you chapter and verse where
this is, but now I'd have to look it up.)

In fact, one of our "main" pastors insisted that's what he did this
once when depression started creeping back up on him. He said he had
suffered from it for years (and if even HALF of what he said about his
childhood and what his dad did to him growing up is true, I can see
why) but one day he just told it leave in the name of God and it never
came back.

Course, that didn't seem to work for me, at least not permanently. I
guess that was a bit of a conundrum for my fellow Christians, how
could a "real" Christian be depressed so much? Well, obviously said
person must be holding on to some "secret" sin, or not spending enough
time with God and thus, their "walk" as a Christian is suffering
because of this.

And yeah, I guess you could say I had some problems as a Christian...
I think everyone does, I mean, according to their beliefs, there was
only ONE perfect Christian (and He died up doing for it). Among other
things, I guess my main "problem" was with pornography for instance.
(Course, what I considered a "problem" might have just been "normal
behavior for a young man my age".) Basically, the problem was I
looked at porn (didn't have the internet, so at the time it was mainly
the soft-core movies on late night cable) and occasionally
masturbated. I felt this wrong because of the whole "...he who looks
at a girl with lust on his mind has already committed adultery with
her in his heart." (verse from Matthew, I believe.) Now, some
Christians are divided on whether or not masturbation (in and of
itself) is wrong (a few, like James Dobson for instance, don't see a
problem with it), but all them are pretty much in line on the
pornography issue.

My best friend at the time, for instance, was in this camp. I think he
meant well, but I really don't believe he had a genuine understanding
of what clinical depression is. I mean, he knew that some people had
chemical imbalances and whatnot, but he seemed to think that too many
people took medicine for depression just to take them. (And yeah, I'm
sure that's the case with some people...) So, many times I'd mention
getting depressed, he would then ask me if I had been "looking at
certain things" and often I'd have to confess I was, and he'd say
doing that was destroying myself self-esteem and giving me a distorted
view on what sex was really for, etc, etc.

He had admitted a few times he also had problems with sexual thoughts
and stuff (after all, he was just a few year older than I) but he
didn't get into too many details. I don't know, my friend was kind of
my idol as far as being what a Christian meant. He had his flaws for
sure, but they all seemed "minor" and easily forgivable compared to
mine. Above all us, nothing really seemed to shake his faith in God
and that things would turn okay. I admired him for that.

But, as the same time, I suppose I also hated and felt a bit of
jealously towards him, having the loving mom, little brother, the
pastor uncle, and an entire church of people (later, two churches) who
seemed to admire and respect him. I guess part of me though, well, of
course, with all that support, who could one not waver in their faith?
Everything seems to be going okay for himÂ…

So, over and over I tried to stop it. I'd go as long as I could
without viewing pornography, or even the sex movies on late cable.
I'd do my best to quit masturbating (I think my record was about two
and half weeks, pretty good, I think, for a male around 18 at the
time.) I'd succeed for awhile, trying to focus on other things, then
I mess up and feel like crap because I had failed.

Here's the other thing, especially felt bad because I already felt a
good dose of guilt about masturbating long BEFORE my religious period.
Not sure why, but I supposed it's most likely because of the sexual
abuse I had undergone at the hands of a close relative when I was a
child. I suppose I felt enjoying sex meant I somehow "enjoyed" what
happened to me back then... its one of those things that even today I
still occasionally have problems with.

Now, for the record, yeah, I agree, obsessive porn watching can cause
depression, especially if you're doing it so much you're ignoring
other things like social interactions and day to day activities and
whatnot or starting to think that what happens inside pornographic
films is reality and began expecting too much from your dates,
partners, or even total strangers. But I think to make a blanket
statement to blame someone's depression on this or that detail of
their life is just... well, I can't think of the word for it,
"oversimplification" I suppose.

NOW, here's the kicker though, and it's taken me YEARS to figure this
one out... but, I finally remember something about my past that kind
of blows the lid off the "depression was just cause you're not
spiritually right with God" type ideas... I remember being depressed
even as a YOUNG CHILD. Way back before I even knew what porn was.
Way back before the mood altering chemicals released by puberty and
all the complexities of adult life.

I remember having weird, existential thoughts as kid, like I need to
play and do everything I can now because I wasn't going to enjoy being
an adult. I remember certain songs on the radio making me sad, I
remember feeling lonely just because it was the weekend and my friends
weren't there. Not sure what caused it... maybe it was the abuse, or
maybe I was just lonely, or maybe my brain developed a little
differently than most people (I've since come to believe I might have
Aspergers syndrome, which is a form autism). But whatever the reason,
I can remember being a sad little boy, long before I knew what sex
was, so there goes that idea.

(May write another post someday detailing the oddness of my childhood,
but you'll wait on that. UPDATE: Still haven't, although, I've
explored that issue about on my livejournal.)

Anyway, I hadn't figured that out at the time, so I was still thought
the whole cause of my depression was the pornography thing, or maybe
the "not spending enough with God" thing. I've been told that a
relationship with God was like a relationship with anyone else, you
have to spend time with them or else you'll drift apart. Spending
time in this case meant praying (both talking and "listening"),
reading the Bible, being with other Christians, etc, etc.

But more often than not, it seemed that no matter how "good" of a
Christian I was, or how time I tried to spend with God, the depression
kept coming back.

After graduating, I started going to a college in a nearby town, then
my parents moved and so I stayed here, getting my own apartment. I
was in another town, on my own for the first time. The town I was in
was about twenty-five or so minutes away from the church, so went
there less and less.

Then things really got bad. There was a young lady with whom I had
been communicating with for over three years mainly through email (we
had also chatted several times before back when I had had AOL). We'd
meet during the period I had first discovered online chatting, and I
had really gotten it. Chatting online felt so much more natural and
easier for me than real life. You can really get to know someone over
email, even though we'd never met face to face, I thought of her a
close friend. She even told me once that if she hadn't been dating
Selim (her boyfriend) that I would be that type of man she'd want to
go out. I'd never had a woman tell me that before. Oh sure, several
girls in high school told me how "nice" and "sweet" I was, but nothing
more than that.

Then one day I got an email from her mother saying that Sheryl had
passed away in her sleep. Sheryl had told me weeks earlier that she
was born with a heart condition (never found out exactly what) but she
just mentioned it so casually, a side note in one of her sentences. I
asked her about it and she said, "Yes, it could be fatal, but I don't
worry about it, I just try to enjoy life one day at a time."

It was the first real death of a close friend I had ever faced. I had
a step-grandmother pass away some years before, but this felt more raw
and painful. I know some of my pain was a bit selfish though, as I
was thinking less of her and wallowing more in my own self-pity. It
just didn't seem fair that a young girl (she had just graduated from
high school a few weeks prior) who had so much intelligence, so many
plans for the future, a loving family and a boyfriend should die when
a lonely, perpetually unhappy man like myself could keep on living.

More than ever, I felt alone... I tried talking to some of friends and
family, but most of them didn't really seem to understand the depth of
my feelings for my "email friend" and few seemed real eager to listen
to me or my petty problems.

Course, maybe I wasn't being fair to them, I mean, no one can truly
know what's on someone else's mind unless they tell them... Maybe they
didn't understand my feelings because I didn't communicate them
enough. Or maybe they just didn't know what to say to me. I know
that one of the more hideous things that grief does to a person is
make them feel like they're totally alone.

At this point I had only been going to my "regular" church just for
Sunday service, if then. I'd usually arrive a bit late, after the
"praise and worship" section. Somehow the upbeat songs and the
slower, more "deep" ones just seemed to ring hollow to me. I just...
I don't know... I had trouble singing about the greatness of God and
the "...peace that passes all understanding" when I wasn't feeling it
myself, and hadn't been for a long time.

Shortly after Sheryl's death, I quit going to my "regular" church
almost altogether. I'd been busy so much with work I couldn't make
the Friday "Youth Night" service, or the Wednesday, and I just frankly
didn't feel like going to the Sunday one. I hadn't given up
completely mind you; I was occasionally going to special events at
several local churches. Places where Don knew some people and had
some friends.

I attended a big youth rally at a local church (local being in the
town where I now had an apartment), and left feeling more depressed
than when I came in. I felt sad because I looked and saw all these
young, handsome kids (well, high schoolers really) they seemed to be
everything I wasn't, beautiful, energetic, and seemingly having no
doubts about their faith.

In addition the pastor of the church gave a sermon that reminded me of
Sheryl, bringing back more memories. Ironically, the pastor himself
had lost a daughter, about 13 years old. I don't recall the details,
but she had some sort of medical condition, that caused her to pass
out and drown while swimming in a local pool with the school swim
team.

What was interesting to me is how the guy spoke how he got to the
hospital, found out his daughter had passed away, then went out into
the waiting room where all her friends from the swim team were and he
said he told, "Well, if I know Casey, she'd want to see you all again,
and the only way that's going to happen is if you guys come to know
Jesus." He said some of them (I'm assuming who were already
Christians) were shaking their heads, agreeing, and others just looked
kind of puzzled. He reported happily that two of them got saved from
that experience.

And despite this, the fellow was rather upbeat; he said something
along the lines of how he was happy because he knew beyond any doubt
that he was going to see his little girl again. I'm not sure if I
admire the man for keeping his faith despite such tragedy, or if I
think he's a little crazy for still being able to believe after all
that. Did it ever cross his mind to wonder why God let her die? Or
did simply think there was a purpose to it all? That maybe she died
so perhaps two of her friends could get saved? (Or did he maybe feel
that was just a good result that came from a bad situation but not the
purpose?)

But, more the point, the whole thing reminded me again of Sheryl,
another young girl taken before her time. Once again I wondered
(rather selfishly, I suppose), why so many happy people with loving
families seem to die, while someone who often wishes he was dead still
keeps on going...

Again, I know that's kind of a selfish way to look at someone's death,
especially someone who you claim to have loved, but it's how I felt at
the time.

Some of the people began to get worried about me. I got a few phones
calls wanting to know how I was doing. I think maybe the rumors were
going around I was "having some trouble" or perhaps even "backsliding"
as it's called. The church wasn't a cult though (although it's been
accused of such), they didn't go showing up en mass at my door to
"reprogram" me or some such.

Don in particular knew something was wrong, he began to get a little
angry at me at times when I'd talk to him and I was being excessively
negative. At one point he invited me to a play a church was holding
called "Heaven's Gate, Hell's Fire" he said it was really great. I
told him I wasn't feeling so well and just didn't want to go (a
partial truth, I guess), and he's like, "Oh come on, Mike, it'll be
fun get out of the house for a bit." and I said, "Don, I just not big
on being around a bunch of people I don't know now." And getting a
bit angry, "That's not true, Mike, you just don't want to go to a
church!"

I can't remember what I replied to that, but he was right. I
especially didn't really want to see play that (I presume) would be a
rehash of the old "get saved and everything will be great, don't and
you'll burn forever" blah, blah, blah. Not in my current mood anyway.

By this time I was getting so depressed I had trouble getting out of
bed. I was missing a lot of college classes. On campus, I was seeing
a school counselor on occasion, but I don't think he had a clue as to
how serious my problem was. I heavily contemplated suicide, but
didn't follow through, maybe for fear of going to hell (not that I
think that suicide is an automatic ticket there, but that's another
thread) or the hope that things would get better.

It's ironic, I was talking to Don once about my depression and I'm not
sure how the subject came but we were talking problems we had before
getting saved and problems after. And Don said, "Well, Mike, whatever
you're feeling now, is it worse than what you had before getting
saved? I know it wasn't for me... Before was always a much worse
period in my life."

"Is it worse that what you had before getting saved" I thought. Such
an interesting question, and in a way, yes, it was because, to make a
comparison it felt like I had found a cure to a disease and somehow it
seemed to work for everyone BUT me, or at least, worn off on its'
effects. You can only imagine how despairing that could be. To think
I'd finally found the answer I'd been searching for my whole life, to
have felt a joy I couldn't describe and thenÂ… bam, it's gone, and I'm
not sure why it felt or how to get it back.

So now here I am. Trying to figure out what's what and where to go
from here. It's a strange and often sad place to be in. I really
don't know what I believe anymore. I believe in God most of the time,
but WHAT God I believe is a matter of some debate. I do a lot of
study on different philosophies and religions, trying to find one that
seems to make sense to me. It's weird... once you've had an
experience like mine, it never completely leaves you... at least, it
hasn't me. For instance, I could easily get on a philosophy
discussion board and take either the side of a Christian or an
atheist.

I guess that's thing people might find confusing about me, especially
when I defend religious people, but don't seem to have those beliefs
myself. Even though I'm not as religious as I once was, I still don't
like it when I see people trying to eradicate religion from the public
view. I guess it's my "live and let live" philosophy of things...

Sometimes I think of being agnostic... that is, someone who believes
simply that the existence of God (or lack thereof) is just improvable
either way. It would be a bit ironic if I settled on that,
considering at one point in time I felt that was a bit of a cop out.
But on the other hand... let's face facts, the only ones who REALLY
know whether or not God exists are the dead, and they're not talking.

I don't know. I really want to believe there is a life after this, a
better one. Call me naive, but I don't think I could accept the idea
that we die and that's it...

So, what can we take from this? I wish I had a nice neat little
message to wrap it this post up with, like saying I rediscovered my
faith, or that I found another and I now feel at peace, or that my
depression is all cleared, both none of those are the case. I still
battle with depression (meds helped for awhile, but I think I need to
get my dosage reevaluated), and I'm still not sure what plane
spiritually (if any) I'm on.

I keep exploring though, studying, learning, seeking and searching. I
hope that whatever happens after we die the fact I'm still trying find
answers and do the best I can as a person counts for something.
Although there sometimes is that nagging fear that I may have turned
my back on the true thing that could help me. I really don't know...

As for you guys, I appreciate you reading this, if you're wondering
what to take from it, I'm not really sure. If you yourself have faith
in something, this is not meant to try and take away from it. I may
not believe as much as I once did, but I'm not out destroy anyone
else's faith.

For the non-believers, you might take this as more proof that
religion's a crock and you might tell me I need to "get over it" and
whatnot. I can't say I could fully agree with you, I think as people
there's something in us that seeks something bigger than ourselves, an
overall meaning to our lives...

As for doubters, the ones in my place, I don't mean this to add to
your confusion, but I wouldn't mind hearing from you, trading stories
and stuff. Perhaps together we can figure out what we need to do.

Either way, thanks for reading this.

*

I promised some advice, and now I'll give it. This is for the
religious types that want to help others with depression and spread
their beliefs.

1. For starters, don't assume just cause someone's depressed it's
because they're living an ungodly life or holding onto secret sin.
That may be the case, but unless you know for sure you can't just
assume that. As troubling theologically as the concept of a depressed
but Godly person might be you, it CAN exist. (Consider Elijah, who,
even after a big victory prayed to God, "Lord, please take my life.")

Heck, even Jesus wept on occasion.

I'm reminded of how one of my pastors used to refer to Job's friends
as "turkeys" and coined the phrase "Job's Comforters" to describe
certain types of people. Basically in the book of Job (another Old
Testament book, I don't honestly think makes a heck of a lot of sense,
but that's another thread) Job was righteous man who was struck with a
series of disasters. He ended up losing his wealth, his home, all his
children, and was even infected with painful boils. At first, his
friends just remained silent, knowing how great his grief was. But
then they began to accuse him of various things, thinking that God
would never punish a righteous person, so of course Job must have done
something to offend Him.

Sound familiar? (Not that I'd compare myself to Job, of course, but
you get the idea.)

2. Do some research. If you're one of the lucky "normals" that don't
experience depression unless something bad happens to cause it, then
do some research on it. At least have some familiarity with the
subject before you try to spout advice.

3. Don't do the "you just need to get saved" stuff. Yeah, sharing
your beliefs is a goal, but not the end result. Sometimes you need to
just become someone's friend before you can become a good witness. I
mean, most people aren't going to take advice on spiritual matters (or
anything else) from total strangers. But a friend, someone they trust
and know won't lead them wrong.

Plus presenting being saved as the end all and be all solution to
EVERY problem, is very pretentious at best. You know very well as a
Christian who's TRUELLY trying to follow the dictates of Christ,
you're going to have a lot of problems a "normal" person wouldn't.

Personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with admitting you
occasionally have hard times (we all do) and THEN if you want to say
how you get through with prayer, or singing hymns or whatnot,

4. Prayer

So you offered to pray for/with someone and they said yes. Your first
instinct might be to start praying out loud, cause heck, you're not
ashamed of it. Well, you're friend might be a bit unnerved or even
embarrassed by that. I'd trying ASKING them first, say something
like, "Do you mind if I pray for you out loud, right now? I can, if
you want, or I can prayer silently, right next to you." If he (or
she) seems okay, go ahead, but you don't have to make a big show out
of it (yelling loudly, doing a lot of vehement, "In the name of
JEEEZZ-ZUS!!!" type stuff.) I seriously doubt God is hard of hearing.

And a final piece of advice, this is especially if true you're trying
to comfort grieving people. Don't try to explain why God took their
loved one away, and especially don't quote some stupid, cliched
phrase, like "God wanted a flower for his garden." I'm sorry, but I
don't know why things happen as they do, but I REALLY doubt God goes
around murdering people (especially young children) in accidents or
with random disease just for his own selfish ends.

I'd focus more on God being the comforter, remembering all the good
memories they're had, stuff like that.

In fact, some of these situations you may not even need to SAY
anything, just be there to provide comfort and maybe even a shoulder
to cry on.

BTM

"I am He Who Smokes Bitches!"
-Stormy, Sealab 2021

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