The Impact

Some of my friends have gone skydiving. I've never been tempted to do that, mainly because you sometimes have to pack your own parachute and I'm not good with my hands. They say that you don't need a parachute to go skydiving, but you need one to go twice. When a sky jockey leaves his 'chute in the plane, the fall is not the problem. It's the impact that hurts. Webster defines impact as "to strike forcefully." It is also defined as "the force of impression of one thing on another: a significant or major effect."

When I was fifteen, my father decided that we needed to move from Oklahoma City to a 250 acre farm outside of Prague, Oklahoma. That decision was to have a tremendous impact on my life. Even though I was excited about having so much land for our horses, I wasn't completely sure that I wanted to move. I was a freshman that year, and I was expected to be a state wrestling champion within the next two years. That dream was hard to give up. I was also leaving friends with whom I had gone to school for 9 years. Everything that was familiar and important to me was being left behind.

It's never fun to be the "new kid" at school. On my very first day, one of the school bullies pushed me and we got into a big fight in the hallway. During lunch, he and I, along with about 10 other boys, went to the football field to finish our disagreement. Even though I won (?) the fight, I never felt so alone in my life. I was in a strange place surrounded by people I didn't know. It was kinda scary, but I wouldn't let anyone guess it.

I didn't realize how much my father's decision had impacted my life until a few years ago. I was going through my old school journals reading the entries written by my childhood friends, and this intense feeling of sadness and loss came over me. I suddenly remembered and experienced again how I had felt about moving to a new town and school.

Webster's dictionary defines impact as "the force of impression or operation of one thing on another." Often times we are unaware of how certain events or circumstances affect us. Crime, bad health, war, divorce, bad parenting, alcohol and other drug addiction, abandonment and failure all have an immeasurable impact on the lives of men and women. The question today is, "How does depression impact the lives of caregivers and other loved ones of someone who is faced with mental health issues?" Finding an answer to that question and discovering ways to cope may help to avert burnout.

About eighteen years ago, I went to see a therapist for a number of reasons, but one of them was anger management. I thought that, as a Christian, I had overcome that problem. Typically, I would become irritated at someone or some situation, and I would say to myself, "I'm a Christian. That doesn't really bother me. I'm in control." I didn't understand that my method of control was to "stuff" my anger down some place where it wasn't noticeable. Neither to me, nor to anyone else. The day would come, though, when some minor aggravation would cause me to boil over and spew my angry feelings over whoever was in range.

Here's the advice I received from the therapist. He said, "Stormy, your problem is that you are not acknowledging your anger. You are fooling yourself into thinking that you are impervious to the common irritations of life, and yet you continually stack them up like dominoes. After awhile, the stack gets so high that it doesn't take much to knock them over, and then you blow up. What you need to do is to acknowledge the moments when you become angry before the dominoes stack up."

That was some of the best advice that I have ever received. The cure mostly hinged on continuous awareness and immediate acknowledgement of things that bothered me. This awareness enabled me to not only know when I was being irritated, but to be appropriately assertive when someone had violated my emotional comfort zone. I might say, "I'm angry because....and this is what I'm going to do about it." Or maybe, "John, what you are doing (or saying) is irritating me." That new approach worked wonders. Now, I'm not always at absolute peace with everyone else, but I'm pretty much at peace with myself, my God, and my anger.

Living with someone who is often depressed can have a tremendous impact on you, yet you might not have an awareness of the issues or be able to resolve those perfectly natural feelings. Read the following statements, looking for those which seem to reflect your inner truths.

IMPACT LIST

I feel guilty that I may be the cause of the depression.---I blame myself by feeling: "If I had done this or that..."---I feel embarrassed by his/her behavior.---This behavior is a reflection on me as a person.---I'm afraid that he/she may hurt me or someone else.---I resent being burdened with this problem (Why me, Lord?).---I get angry at this person because I feel like he/she could do better if he tried.---I feel guilty when I respond to this person in a way that I know is not helpful.---I now see many mistakes that I made in the past.---There are times when I dislike this person.---Sometimes I wish that I had never married him/her.---I get depressed myself about this situation that we are in.---I'm afraid that this person will get sick again.---The mental health professionals really don't seem to have any answers.---I am afraid to leave him/her without supervision.---I spend a lot of time feeling like I am "walking on eggs."---It has taken so much of our hard-earned money to take care of this person.---I am physically, spiritually, and emotionally tired and depleted.---I have no hope.---I wish that we had a normal life, like everyone else.

You may read the above list and feel like "bailing out." Yet, you might read the list and become more aware of how you honestly feel, and realize that you are not alone. Others have struggled with the same issues you have. Remember and read the blog on "Stinkin' Thinkin' (2/19/07). Sometimes things are not as bad as we believe. Sometimes they are, and we need awareness, an expression of our honest emotions and support. There is no doubt that mental illness has an impact on everyone connected, but it can be survived. I suggest that you speak with a counselor familiar with mental health issues, join a support group, and cling to God.

One of my favorite Bible verses is: "Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy (Psalm 126:5)." I need to be frequently reminded that "this too will pass."

["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Twelve Things To Do

Special Note-I wish I had more hair so I could pull it with both hands. As you can see, I still haven't resolved the template issue with Google. I wish Google was a man so I could shoot him (in my mind). Meanwhile, if you want to communicate with me, my email address is sandtward@alltel.net Following is an article I thought might be informative.

Twelve things to do if your loved one has a mood disorder (author unknown)

01-Don't regard this as a family disgrace or subject of shame. Mood disorders are usually biochemical in nature, just like diabetes, and are just as treatable.

02-Don't nag, preach or lecture to the person. Chances are he/she has already told him or herself everything you can tell them. He/she will take just so much and shut out the rest. You may only increase their feeling of isolation or force them to make promises that cannot possibly be kept.

03-Guard against the "holier-than-thou" or martyr-like attitude. It is possible to create this impression without saying a word. a person suffering from a mood disorder has an emotional sensitivity such that he/she judges other people's attitudes toward him/her more by actions, even small ones, than by spoken words.

04-Don't use the "if you loved me" appeal. Since persons with mood disorders are not in control of their affliction, this approach only increases guilt. It is like saying, "If you loved me, you would not have diabetes."

05-Avoid any threats unless you think them through carefully and definitely intend to carry them out. There may be times, of course, when a specific action is necessary 6o protect children. Idle threats only make the person feel you don't mean what you say.

06-If the person uses drugs and/or alcohol, don't take it away from them or try to hide it. Usually this only pushes the person into a state of desperation and/or depression. In the end, he/she will simply find new ways of getting more drugs or alcohol if he/she wants them badly enough. This is not the time or place for a power struggle.

07-On the other hand, if excessive use of drugs and/or alcohol is really a problem, don't let the person persuade you to use drugs or drink with him/her on the grounds that it will make him/her use less. It rarely does. Besides, when you condone the use of drugs or alcohol, it is likely to cause the person to put off seeking necessary help.

08-Don't be jealous of the method of recovery the person chooses. The tendency is to think that love of home and family is enough incentive to get well, and that outside therapy should not be needed.

09-Don't expect and immediate 100 per cent recovery. In any illness, there is a period of convalescence. There may be relapses and times of tension and resentment.

10-Don't try to protect the person from situations which you believe they might find stressful or depressing. On of the quickest ways to push someone with a mood disorder away from you is to make them feel like you want them to be dependent on you.

Each person must learn for themselves what works best for the,, especially in social situations. If, for example, you try to "shush" people who ask questions about the disorder, treatment, medications, etc., you will most likely stir up old feelings of resentment and inadequacy. Let the person decide for THEMSELVES whether to answer questions, or to gracefully say "I'd prefer to discuss something else, and I really hope that doesn't offend you."

11-Don't do for the person that which he/she can do for him/herself. You cannot take the medicine for him/her; you cannot feel his/her feelings for him/her, and you can't solve his/her problems for him/her; so don't try. Don't remove problems before the person can face them, solve them or suffer the consequences.

12-Do offer love, support, and understanding in the recovery, regardless of the method chosen. Expressing disapproval of the method of treatment chosen will only deepen the person's feeling that anything they do will be wrong.

["'m so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

What's Up, Doc?

I once saw a cartoon of a cigar-chewing "robust" man who said to a medical receptionist, "I'm looking for a fat doctor who smokes." Most all of us are looking for the perfect doctor. For some of us that would be a person who would validate all of our wacky ideas. I'm in favor of doctors who (1) are open-minded to new developments, (2) stay up to date, and (3) treat me as a respected and important advisor in my treatment plan.

I'm happy to report that I get all of the above at the VA hospitals that I've attended in Arkansas. In most doctor's offices you feel as though you are on a conveyor belt. After arriving early for your appointment, dealing with an inattentive receptionist, sitting for hours on a hard seat, and finally being called to the examination room, you step on the belt. It whisks you to the nurse, who takes your vitals, puts you back on the conveyor, where you fly by the doctor, answering his questions in 1.3 minutes, receive a dull needle in the old bohunkus, and are finally dumped at the feet of the cashier. Where you can stay as long as you like, filling out the mortgage application forms.

Sometimes the doctor doesn't' even look you in the eye. "What's your problem? Unh, huh. Unh, huh. Here's a prescription. Now, GET ON THAT BELT! Next patient!!!" Sound familiar? They try to cram forty-eleven patients into a time slot for 20, overbook by 59 patients, and get cranky if you dare to start asking THEM any questions.

I want a doctor who treats me as though he has all day to solve my problem. I want a doctor who is personable. I want a doctor who readily admits that he is not God. I want a doctor who is humble enough to accept any information or insight that I might have about my possible treatment options. And I think that I deserve that kind of doctor.

Far too often, the professionals in the medical community find themselves at war with others who have a different approach to medicine. Everybody is defending the "fort" of their particular treatment philosophy. It seems ironic that the Greek etymology of philosophy is the love of wisdom. It that's so, then why do so many doctors act so foolish? They seem to follow the idea that "the best offense is a good defense." So they attack each other relentlessly while ignoring their responsibility toward their patients.

I take the pragmatic approach to my health. To me, whatever works is good medicine. If it doesn't work, then it's not good medicine. I assure you, if a doctor convinced me that standing on my head would cure me of Bipolar Disorder, I would quickly become flat-headed. I want a doctor who is wise enough, humble enough, and enterprising enough to utilize anything and everything that might improve my chances of healing.

If I could afford it, I would employ an M.D., a therapist, a nutritionist, a psychiatrist, an acupuncturist, a chiropractor, and a veterinarian (if necessary) to put me on the road to good health. And I don't want a fat doctor who smokes. Believe me, I would run all of my bases and leave no bone unburied if it would make me well.

I pray that you will hold all of your treating medical professionals to a high standard. If they won't work with you, then don't you work with them. You deserve the very best!!

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Update on suicide: I received a very disturbing email this last week from a woman who lived in fear of her husband committing suicide. Last Thursday a good friend's father took his life. In the last 6 months, I have personally known three Christians who lost a close relative to suicide. I can't think of anything worse than that. Please continue to educate yourself about this issue, but if you are a survivor, do not let Satan convince you that you have anything to feel guilty about. As heart-breaking as suicide is, it is still the personal decision of the person who takes his/her life.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

SOS

Suicidal thoughts, plans and attempts are an SOS for help. People don't wake up one day and say, "You know, I don't have anything else to do, I think I will commit suicide." A person who makes this decision may be somewhat impulsive, but not that impulsive. As someone who has had to struggle at times with suicidal thoughts (not actions), I know that this type of thinking is insidious. It creeps into your emotional processing and becomes attractive as a way of coping with pain. A friend of mine recently stated that suicide was a "cowards way out," but I have to disagree. It is a desperate way out.

Let me assure you, that for several reasons, I do not believe that this is a decision or action that I will ever make. That does not mean that it is not something that I have to guard against. Other than wanting to please God in all things, one prohibitive factor in my life is the shame and guilt and almost unending pain that suicide survivors have to deal with. I would not want to inflict those things on my family and friends, but love of others can sometimes even lead to suicide.

I believe that personal and crushing guilt for causing problems in another persons life is often a prime motivator for suicide. Someone thinks, "They really would be better off without me." Love, not anger, can cause a person who has illogical thinking patterns to see suicide as an expression of how much they care for someone. If they feel guilty for the negative effect their life or their illness causes another person, that guilt may suggest this radical step as being a solution to the problems of someone they care about. This might sound "crazy" to you. You need to understand that a person with suicidal thoughts is NOT thinking logically, otherwise they would not even contemplate this act.

Besides my own struggles, I have had a lot of personal experience with suicidal people. My first acquaintance with suicide occurred when I was a young adult. I received a phone call from a girl who was desperate because one of our friends had intentionally overdosed. This was before 911, so I rushed over and loaded my friend in the car and took her to the emergency room. She was hospitalized for 3 days and released into the care of her mother. All ended well.

A few years later, I was in my church office and I got another call. One of the church members screamed that her husband had a gun to his head and said that he was going to commit suicide. I broke all the speed limits on the way to their home, and when I entered their front door, he was sitting in a recliner with a pistol while his wife and daughter looked on. I sat beside him and began to quietly ask him why he felt so sad. The short story is that he was depressed, felt hopeless, and ached for someone to give him a reason to live. After talking for several hours, he gave me his gun and was taken to see a doctor. He later became a Christian and a leader in the church.

One day I was talking to my mother and another relative about my problem with depression. When I went outside, he followed me and said that he wanted to talk. He told me that he was thankful that I had shared my struggles, because he had been planning to commit suicide. I called his son and got him some help.

Then, in 1993, while I was finishing up my degree work, I became a friend and study buddy to a young woman. She began to miss classes, and one day she came to class but sat quietly, not paying attention to the lecture. I noticed that she was doodling on a piece of paper, and I was close enough to her chair to see her draw a skull. After class ended, I saw her throw the paper away. When I retrieved it, I found that she had been writing comments related to suicide, so I talked to the professor about getting her some immediate medical attention. She was put in the hospital and her parents were called. After she was released, she came to me and said, "Stormy, if you hadn't seen my note, I would not be alive today." That impressed on me the importance of paying close attention to people. She recovered and married a wonderful young Christian man.

Also, in my family, I have had an uncle, a first-cousin, and a second-cousin all commit suicide.

Although these stories are a little tedious, I just want you to see that there are a lot of people out there who are in pain. According to the Center for Disease Control, 30, 622 Americans took their lives in 2001. In 2002, 132,353 people were hospitalized following suicide attempts. Suicide is the third leading cause of death among young people ages 15-24, but even children as young as 10 have taken their lives.

There are many websites dedicated to information about this national tragedy. One site that I would recommend and that has several good links is at "nimh.nih.gov/medlineplus/suicide." I believe that everyone should take the time to educate themselves. We may not know how distressed our loved ones can be. Don't wait until it's too late. Statistically, 6 people will be affected by a suicide. I believe that statistic is drastically conservative. I pray that none of us will ever be one of those people.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Chuckle Cheese

It all started with a casual remark made about my son's comment on the last major blog. He said, "Pretty clever, Dad." My wife remarked that "It must be a male thing." I parried by claiming that it has been scientifically proven that men have a better sense of humor than women. I nearly always resort to the proof of science when my beliefs are attacked.

But seriously, who are the punny ones in your family? The men, right? Who does the teasing? Who plays the practical jokes? Who laughs loudest and longest? Who receives great joy from tickling others? See, that is also what the scientists who did the proving observed.

Even one of my best female friends, who attended the class reunion asked, "Where did THAT (blog) come from?" Women just don't get it. It's been proven. Scientifically. A casual glance at my wife would note that she appears to have eye muscles on steroids... from rolling her lovely orbs. Listening to my jokes all of these years has never marred her skin with laugh lines.

All of this is a silly male approach to a very serious subject. If you are deeply depressed, it's extremely difficult to laugh. In fact, unaccountable tears are a key indicator that someone is suffering from depression. Therefore, perhaps laughter should be intentionally added to your medical regimen.

A casual review of web articles will demonstrate that laughter is thought to be a medical adjunct to the treatment of cancer, diabetes, chronic pain, back problems, stroke, heartburn, stress and even bad attitudes among prison inmates. Laughter is a form of medical treatment heartily recommended by the International Association of Scientific Proofers. As we might expect. Check it out, read the web.

As a man who has suffered from chronic depression and Bipolar Disorder for over 40 years, I can state unequivocally that laughter has helped keep me sane. Of course, there are some people who have their doubts. In fact, my wife stated that you would have to be "crazy" to write something like the blog "Old Acquaintances (problem thinker)." There is a genetic male predisposition toward humor in my family. People have often said, "You have your father's laugh." When my sons and I get together, we become almost uncontrollably silly. I fully expect my grandson to carry on the paternal mark of humor. The females in our family, though, just don't "get it."

On the web are many lists of the top 100 funniest films and funniest comedians. Some I agree with and some I don't. Unfortunately, many that are on the lists are full of vulgarity. Following are some of my personal favorites (inclusion does not mean that I approve of everything).

All of the Abbott and Costello movies, Laurel and Hardy, Keystone Cops, Spanky and Our Gang, Johnny Depp as Captain Jack, Jerry Louis, Bing Crosby, Bob Hope, Shrek, Bill Cosby, Groucho Marx, Milton Berle, Steve Martin, Lucille Ball, Mrs. Doubtfire, Bill Murray, The Office, Billy Crystal, Don Knotts, Seinfeld, Tim Allen, Peter Sellers, Ghostbusters, Harvey Korman, Tom Hanks, Sandra Bullock, Hugh Grant, Daddy Day Camp (Eddie Murphy), When Harry Met Sally, Father of the Bride, and many others too numerous to mention.

While thinking about these, I've been inspired to start creating a "laugh library," made up of videos, books and recordings. On those days when I'm feeling really, really down, I can retreat to my laugh library for some relief. Come and join me. Even though many of my blogs are depressing (about depression), I really am a man who loves to laugh, be silly, goofy, wacky, punny, witty, facetious, amusing and humorous. It's been scientifically proven.

"There is a time to weep, and a time to laugh (Ecclesiastes 3:5)."

For those of you who have been disappointed by the lighthearted mood of my last two blogs, take comfort in the news that my next topic will be suicide.

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Please excuse the strange appearance of my blog structure. I'm pleading with Google to get it fixed.
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["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Just Returned

I just returned from my trip, so I am still decompressing. I will have a new blog tomorrow. Have a great day, and if you can't have one, just have a day anyway.

Old Acquaintances

This Saturday I will be attending my 4oth high school class reunion. I'm a little afraid that my classmates will have all gotten so old that they won't recognize me. Some days, I hardly recognize myself. Just thinking about it hurts my head.

The other day I was discussing with a friend the (a) problem with young people. Some schools are just not teaching them how to think. They go to college and quickly learn how to swim downstream. There is no independence or creativity in their thought processes. If they have a strong-minded professor, they will soon learn to approach everything the way that he does. That's why people who have mental health issues are so interesting. They have a totally unique way of thinking. Give THAT some thought! But be careful, thinking can be dangerous.

A psychologist once told me (honestly) that he believed that I had sustained some brain damage at some time during my life. I know that my friends who read this will all be laughing, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes, but this is not funny. In fact, it's possible that it was the cause of my becoming a problem thinker.

It started out innocently enough. I first began to think at parties now and then, just to loosen up. After awhile though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone--just "to relax," I told myself. But I knew that it wasn't true.

Thinking became more and more important to me. Finally, I was thinking all of the time. I began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and employment don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself. I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Freud. I would come back to the office dizzy and confused. My mind was obsessed with questions like, "What are we doing here?"

I was having problems at home too. One evening I had turned off the TV and asked my spouse about the meaning of life. She said that I was scaring her, and she began to avoid me. I could now see that we were just not well matched. We were like two opposite Polish people repelling one another. Soon, my wife began spending some nights at her mother's house.

I eventually developed a reputation as a heavy thinker. One day the boss called me into his office. He said, "Stormy, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. It's disrupting the whole company. You just don't fit in anymore. If you don't stop thinking, you will have to find another job." That gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early from work, and I confessed, "Honey, I've been thinking..." "I know you've been thinking," she said, "and I want a divorce!!" Tears ran down her face as she quietly said, "It's getting serious, Stormy. You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money, so if you keep on thinking, we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently, and she began to cry. I'd had enough. "I'm going to the library," I snarled as I stomped out the door. I wanted some books. I was in the mood for some Nietzsche and Voltaire, topped off with some Solomon. I roared into the parking lot and ran up to the big glass doors. They didn't open. The library was closed. I fell to the ground weeping.

To this day, I believe that God was looking out for me that night. As I clawed at the unfeeling glass, whimpering for psychology, theology and philosophy, a poster caught my eye. "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?" it asked. You probably recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster. Which is why I am what I am today: a recovering thinker.

I never miss a TA gathering. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video. Last week it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last time we met.

I still have a job, and I still have a wife. After I became used to it, life just seemed easier as soon as I stopped thinking. I know that my TA mentor will be concerned about me writing of my experiences, but surely just one thought won't hurt. Oh, alright, there have been several thoughts in this blog, but none of them really mattered.

Here's thinking to you, kid.

I Don't Really Need It

"I don't really need it," is a comment often expressed by people taking medication of any kind. It's a form of denial. Doctors will tell you that noncompliance with a prescribed treatment of medication is one of the biggest frustrations that they face. This is not limited to patients who have been diagnosed with a form of mental illness.

In support group meetings, I have often heard someone say that they have not followed their doctor's advice. The reason is usually the feeling that if they are not taking medication, then they are not truly ill. They are denying the reality of their health issue, and consequently, they deny themselves the surest way of stabilizing their health.

Another reason why patients don't comply with their course of treatment is that they have become discouraged. According to the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance, more than 50 per cent of individuals who took antidepressants needed to try two or more drugs before finding one that was effective. Ten per cent of patients had to try five or more drugs before finding one that was effective. In my case, I have tried a dozen medications and have still not found one that will successfully control my depression. Fortunately, I'm just stubborn enough not to give up.

Family members of depressives often try all kinds of methods to change the attitude of their loved one toward medication. Most often their efforts fail. As someone who has had Bipolar Disorder (BPD) for over 4 decades, I believe I know what is most likely to work and what isn't.

What depressives really need to hear are persuasive statements. The biggest mistake that family members or friends make is to be overly proactive toward their loved one. Whatever is said to the patient, it must be seasoned with wisdom and gentleness. My advice follows.

DO NOT nag-be persuasive
DO NOT shame-be persuasive
DO NOT command-be persuasive
DO NOT manipulate-be persuasive
DO NOT control-be persuasive

I believe that most people are open to persuasion, but they will rebel against any of the above attempts to get them to take their medication. What it takes to persuade one person may be ineffective with another. Maybe getting the advice of a counselor who works with depressives would be a good place to begin. They would have the most experience in dealing with noncompliance issues.

This much I know. Those of us who struggle with mental health issues are in desperate need of love, acceptance, understanding, support and persuasive advice. A failure to receive these things will nearly always result in noncompliance and hopelessness. In some cases, suicide.

"Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones (Proverbs 16:24)."


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Idiotic "Fun"????

She floated like a butterfly and stung me like a bee. My first love dumped me for another boy. I will remember her as long as I live. C...... Claghorn is a name that you are not likely to forget. My introduction to infatuation began in kindergarten. "C" was one of the cutest girls that I had ever seen. Just being in the same room with her gave me babybumps. That smile, those eyes, that personality and of course, her great beauty was potent enough to cause this little boy to walk on clouds.

Infatuation led to kissing. Whoohoo! I confessed to my parents that we had kissed on the playground. My Dad said, "Stormy, you had better stop kissing that little girl, because her daddy is going to get you." I didn't care. At least, I didn't think that I did. One night, my Dad reached around behind his chair and knocked on the wall. He got up and went to the door. When I heard him say, "Well, come in Mr. Claghorn," I flew to my room and hid in the closet. Of course, my father thought that was hilarious.

Our relationship didn't end well. One day, I walked out in the hallway and saw my girlfriend kissing another boy. I was hurt and furious, so I hit him on the nose. That made me feel better. For the first time in my life, I got a charge out of violence.

My father and his own history probably had a lot to do with the way I handled disagreements with people. He came from a long line of fighters and he taught me all that he knew, which was considerable. Almost as soon as I could walk, he started teaching me how to box and wrestle. Those became two of my favorite forms of play. There was an ethic that he adhered to, though. I can hear him say, "Never start a fight, but make sure that you finish it. Don't back down from anybody, even if they are bigger than you are. Never let a bully mistreat someone who is weaker."

His ethic became my ethic. I pretty much held to those ideas until I had my last fight at age 25. He also taught me something else. "If someone starts talking about how tough he is and how he's going to knock you out, don't talk, punch." That advice helped me win a lot of fights.

It's now a shame to me, but I once counted over 50 men and boys that I had fought, from age 5 to 25. My record was pretty good. At this stage of life, though, I realize how idiotic violence is. Yet, I believe that my fist-fighting was to some degree, an expression of my bipolar manic state. I had often said that a fight left me feeling relaxed and happy and more at peace. That sounds "crazy," but it was true. It was a mood release for me. Consequently, I believe that I often "invited" someone to punch me just so I could feel "good."

I have searched the Internet looking for a connection between boxing, fighting, and bipolar disorder. It seems reasonable to me that someone who has BPD would be drawn to boxing. I know that it was a sport that appealed to me, even though I never had a chance to box. I had plenty of opportunities (?) to fight. I believe that this is an area of study that clinical psychologists should pursue. I would be interested in hearing from other men who have BPD and have a history of this type of violent behavior. If there is enough anecdotal evidence for my theory, perhaps some of the medical professionals might become interested enough to investigate this phenomena.

So, why haven't I continued to get into fist-fights? I believe that there are two very important reasons. First, probably at about age 25 I started making the transition from Type One BPD to Type Two BPD. If you have read my earlier blogs, you may remember that my doctors believe that has happened, even though it is rare. Secondly, I became a Christian and that changed my whole life. I wanted to please God, and I wanted to get in control of my anger, and I wanted to be at peace with all men in spite of their sometimes provoking behavior. The coincidence of those two events has had a radical impact on the last 33 years of my life.

Though I try to avoid the subject, sometimes my history of fighting will come up in casual conversation. I believe that one of the greatest compliments that I have ever received is when people say, "Stormy, I just can't imagine you ever fighting." That's wonderful to hear, and I pray it never changes.

Some of you may be wondering if there are any circumstances in which I might use my fists. Probably, if it was to protect another person. Possibly, if it was to protect myself. I can say with all of my heart, though, that I hope that never becomes necessary. It would deeply sadden me, and that feeling wouldn't have anything to do with my depression.

NOTE: Miss Claghorn, I want you to know that it is still over between us.

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone (Romans 12:18)."

["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."}

Reality

The reality of my life is that I'm often depressed. I try to write in this blog at least twice a week, but lately I've just been too down to do it. The rapid cycling doesn't allow me enough "up" time to do anything. I'm tired when I go to bed, and tired when I get up. Often a nap is a necessity.

Difficulty thinking continues to plague me. I've been working part-time at the college library, but even as simple as my duties are there, it's sometimes very difficult to go to work and function the way that I need to. The fact that my photography is going well (awards and sales), just isn't enough to boost my mood for more than a few hours. At least photography gets me out of the house and gives me a purpose for the day.

I've been asked to write a brief autobiography for my upcoming 40th class reunion, but the mental and emotional energy just isn't available. Attempting to complete that task is like dragging an anchor through the jungle. People who don't have a depressive mood disorder often don't understand that those of us who do are not guilty of procrastination, but of extreme lethargy. Our engines are always idling and often remain in "park."

Sometimes, I'm afraid that I will come across as a whiner, but I don't know how to communicate how difficult everyday tasks are without taking that risk. Even a Christian gets to the point of not asking for prayers, because that would be a continual request. A person feels very alone and lonely sometimes, even though aloneness is not a reality. There are many people who have been supportive of me and my ministry, but sometimes I can't see the crowd for the darkness.

This is me, hanging on.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Faster Than A Speeding Bullet

"Faster than a speeding bullet." That's how quickly my moods change. This last week I concluded that I am rapid-cycling. According to my wife, I am changing mood at least twice per week. It didn't used to be that often. This is not good.

Rapid cycling, as defined by the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM), is a change of mood with four or more episodes of mania or depression per year. In my case, I would be described as a person who is an ultra-rapid cycler. Ultradian cycling is when a change occurs several times a day. RCBPD occurs in about 15% of the bipolar population. Unfortunately, this type of bipolar disorder is extremely treatment-resistant. That has certainly been my experience.

Dr. William Coryell, a Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Iowa, reports that patients with bipolar disorder who develop a rapid-cycling pattern suffer substantial depressive morbidity and are at high risk for suicide attempts. People with this type of bipolar disorder tend to have more depressive episodes and have poorer treatment response. The frequent shifts in mood, energy and ability to function put additional stress on the patient and also on his/her relationships.

If you have bipolar disorder and are experiencing rapid-cycling, you will need to report this to your physician or psychiatrist, so that a treatment regimen can be tailored to meet your special needs. I plan to meet with my medical professionals and discuss a possible change in my medications needed for my RCBPD. My prayers are for all of you.

********************************************************************************
Photography season is now in full-swing here in Arkansas. The grass is like blades of emeralds, the birds are in abundance, the trees are putting on their spring and summer clothing, and every week is full of photographic activities.

Monday through Wednesday I went to the lake, Thursday I went to the Buffalo River, Friday I went to a baseball game and today I attended a dog show. "I'm loving it!!!" I'm depressed, but still having fun.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Good News???

Have you ever had mixed feelings about good news? I remember one college course that I took, and I was pretty nervous about our first exam. It was to be an essay exam, which I think are the most difficult due to their subjective nature. The next time that our class met our professor made an announcement. There had been one person who had a perfect score (100). Yep, it was me and I was a little bit embarrassed because every one turned to look at me, some raised their eyebrows, and some were perplexed. I was forty-three years old.

Well, things got worse when our instructor began to read the class my essays. I was ready to crawl under my seat. I'm just introverted enough to not want to be in the limelight. Then, it dawned on me that with a score of 100, there is only one direction to go. It was extremely improbable that I would repeat my success on every exam. So, I received that "good news" with mixed feelings.

I now want to share what might be good news for those of us who have Bipolar Disorder. You might read about this on a number of sites, but I ran across it at the Medscape Medical News website. I will now quote some excerpts from that rather lengthy article.

March 30, 2007-"According to the Systematic Treatment Enhancement Program for Bipolar Disorder, a large placebo-controlled trial of community-dwelling patients with bipolar depression who were receiving mood stabilizers, adjunctive antidepressant therapy did not reduce symptoms of depression, neither did it increase the risk for mania."

"One group of experts was saying, 'When you get depressed, you should add an antidepressant,' and another group of experts was saying, 'When you get depressed, if you do a really good job with a mood stabilizer, you don't need an antidepressant.' This study proved that the latter group was correct, and that it is perfectly reasonable to treat patients without the addition of an antidepressant, as long as you are doing a good job with mood stabilizers."

According to this article, though, this study is being deeply scrutinized by the medical community. Some medical professionals believe that more studies need to be done before a change is made in standard treatment for patients having Bipolar Disorder.

Personally, I'm having a mixed reaction to this "good news." I don't want to take more medication than I need, and I certainly want to avoid medications that might negatively affect my treatment. On the other hand, I am concerned that I might fall into a deeper depression than is typical, if I don't continue to take antidepressants (Wellbutrin) in addition to my mood stabilizer (Lamictal).

In previous blogs, I have warned you that taking an antidepressant, without the addition of a mood stabilizer, can increase the number of depressive episodes. That is ONLY true if you have Bipolar Disorder. Those of us who have unipolar depression should continue to take our medication, unless advised otherwise by our doctor.

I'm also concerned that some patients might think they would be better off if they didn't take any medication. I believe that would be a dangerous conclusion. Discontinuance of any medication without consulting with your doctor would be ill-advised.

One of the ongoing problems that we depressives have is non-compliance with our doctor's advice and prescribed treatment. This is one of the reasons why people who have chronic clinical depression have difficulty stabilizing. In the future, I plan to discuss the critical issue of non-compliance.

So remember, "good news" might be "bad news" in disguise.
********************************************************************************

I want to thank everyone who so kindly prayed for me during my most recent episode of deep depression. I am doing better now. I have come to the conclusion that I rapid-cycle, so I will always be riding the roller-coaster.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Up Down

Yesterday, I woke up down. Today, I'm more deeply down than I was the day before. Tomorrow, I may be so down that I won't want to get up. The skin of my forehead is very tight, so when I lift my eyebrows, they feel as though they have been sewn to my skull. A vise is crushing my head. My energy has mutinied and when I walk, I snail along. Another episode in what feels like an eternal series. These are the kinds of times when I've said, "I've been down so long, it feels like up to me."

When the apostle Paul wrote of the depth of the Macedonian Christians' poverty (2 Corinthians 8:2), he chose the Greek word Bathos, which was commonly used to speak of extreme depth, such as the deep sea. We might readily recognize its derivative bathysphere, "a strongly built steel diving sphere used for deep-sea observation (Webster)."

Depression might be described as a "bathyspheric state of mind." That's how I'm feeling. As if I had stepped off the edge of the Mariannas Trench and I'm going down, down, down. The same brain that experienced joy last Saturday is sliding into darkness today. Why is that? How can that happen? Are the neurotransmitters in my head taking a vacation? Has Serotonin and Norepinephrine slipped into an idle mode? My brain, and what is happening in it from moment to moment, is a mystery only heaven can solve. Knowing that doesn't keep me from becoming frustrated and saddened.

I have a confession to make. I sometimes look at someone who has a physical disability and wish that I could trade. I might change my mind the moment that the trade is made, but the grass seems greener. The problem with having a mental disability is that most people can't see it. Therefore, they think that it doesn't exist. Countless times, I've had someone say to me, "You sure don't look depressed."

As people peek into the coffin of a person who has committed suicide, do they say, "He/she sure doesn't look depressed?" I had a first cousin who was 19, a straight A student, humorous, popular, and engaged to be married. One day, his fiance stopped by his apartment and found that he had shot himself. Even if they had known, people would probably have discounted his depression, because he seemed to be leading an idyllic life. According to the adage, "Looks are deceiving." Even though taken out of context, it seems that Jesus' words are still true. "Having eyes they do not see."

Sometimes the world does not see because it does not look.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Bird Brain

How do you explain inexplicable behavior? This morning, while I was eating breakfast and watching the Today show, a robin kept trying to fly through my french-door windows. Over and over again. In the 20 minutes I watched, I would estimate conservatively that he flew into the window 50 times. Only an ornithologist would be able to explain that bird's behavior.

Type I Bipolar Disorder manic behavior is a little like the bird's. Full-blown mania is characterized by acts that are inexplicable. When someone you love becomes extremely irritable, has poor judgment, goes on wild spending sprees buying things that they could never use, has repeated and demeaning sexual encounters, continually puts their life in danger having "fun," is unreasonably aggressive, or commits crimes, it is a mind-bewildering experience. Everything that you thought you knew about the kindness and integrity of your loved one seems to have been an illusion. You wonder, "who have I been living with all of these years?"

Sadly, the consequences of that bizarre behavior are not only felt by the person with BPD, but are also shared by those who love them. All too often, the words of the apostle Paul come to mind. "A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life (Galatians 6:7f)."

I believe that the subject of manic behavior should be discussed among Bible scholars. Perhaps best studied by those who have a strong medical or scientific background. There are questions that at first seem to be easily answered from God's word, but serious and long-term reflection might say to us, "We don't know it all, and we certainly do not have all of the answers."

Whenever we see someone who has an obvious mental impairment, such as Downs Syndrome or brain damaged or chemically deficient, we might wonder to what degree God will hold them accountable for the acts of their life. The Bible says repeatedly that a person will one day stand before God and answer for their deeds, but does that suggest that the Lord will not view differently the person who, for whatever medical reason, seems to exhibit behavior that is outlandish and out of their control. To what degree might the structurally or chemically impaired brain be held accountable?

Those questions may never be answered in this life, but only in the life to come. Still, I am concerned about this theological conundrum. I've dedicated a large portion of my life to study of the Bible. I consider myself to be a pretty good scholar, one who can analyze and put all of the pieces together. Nevertheless, I am conflicted about these things. I need more prayer, study and reflection. I do realize that there are some things beyond our comprehension, and only God Himself knows what is truth. Wise king Solomon said, "No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all his efforts to search it out, man cannot discover its meaning. Even if a wise man claims that he knows, he cannot really comprehend it (Ecclesiastes 8:17)."

This much I know absolutely. "The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear Him; for He knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:8-14)."

In that I take comfort and encouragement. Anyone who struggles with mental illness needs both.


["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Little Things

Many of us, at one time or another, have been fascinated by little things. I guess that's reasonable, since we start out life as "little things." One of my favorite fairy tales as a child was the story of Thumbelina. Ah, a girlfriend that I could carry in my pocket!!

For much of my life, I was small. When I was a freshman in high school, I was a 114 pound wrestler. By the time that I was a senior, I was a 135 pound football player. Who would have guessed that I would one day grow up to weigh 180-190 pounds. I wish I would have had some of that weight when I played football. Now I dream of being small (smaller) again. I still get a chuckle when I remember Rachael Leigh-Cook saying, "I'm not small, I'm space-efficient."

Little things have a vital role in our lives. Often, though, their importance escapes our notice, and we fail to value them the way that we should. When I was a bus driver in Hot Springs, Arkansas, I learned an important lesson, one that I don't think I will ever forget.

As I drove my bus route, I often saw a handsome man standing by the side of the road on the edge of the cemetery grounds. Every morning he could found standing, staring at the cars and their drivers as they passed by. He would usually be dressed in Bermuda shorts, a nice casual shirt and tennis shoes. This gentleman was about 6' 4" tall, so you wouldn't drive by without noticing him. Even though he was attractive, it was obvious that he had probably suffered brain damage at some time in his life. Perhaps that was why he was so interested in watching the traffic.

Now, in Arkansas many people have the habit (a nice one, I think) of waving at each other as they pass in their cars and trucks. It doesn't matter that they are strangers and that you will probably never get acquainted, it is still customary to lift your hand or fingers as an expression of common courtesy.

For a time, I had a little 3 year old boy sitting behind my driver's seat. He watched everything that I did, often imitating my gestures or speech. One day, I met a local policeman on the road and I waved. My little friend then asked me, "Stormy, did that cop 'Hi' you?" "Yes, he did," I replied. He thought for a moment and then he said, "Well, he didn't 'Hi' me." He was a little disappointed.

The gentleman at the cemetery intrigued me. I wondered what his life was like, and what had caused his mental impairment. I wondered if he had anyone to love him and talk to him and go places with him. So, one day I waved, but he didn't "Hi" back. The next day and the next day I did the same, but still no response. Every day, I waved, and when I did, he would watch my bus as I drove two blocks to the corner and turned out of his sight. This went on for two, then three months. He never waved. I decided that he probably never would.

One day, I said to myself that this would be that last time that I waved at him. When I drove by and he saw my cowboy hat, he raised his hand pocket high. For several days, that was all that he did. Eventually, his hand went shoulder high. Not long after that, I was greeted with a hand-wave that reached over his head. My new "friend" began to be exuberant. When he saw me coming, he would smile and wave like there was no tomorrow.

This gentleman taught me that there is value and importance in the little things that we do. Sometimes, the gestures of kindness and attention and recognition are all that is needed to brighten some one's world.

Our church song leader learned that I had been depressed. He told me later that he didn't know what to say to me. At the time, what he did do was probably more important than what he might have said. Each Sunday, as he walked down the aisle to lead singing, he was squeeze or pat my shoulder as he passed by my pew. It was nothing remarkable. Just a "little thing," you might say, but he let me know that he cared, and that was enough for me.

Jesus once said to His apostles, "And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward (Matthew 10:42)." A reward from God for an act as small as a cup of water? That's amazing, isn't it? Jesus teaches us that all of the little things that we do for others are noticed by the Lord. Even something as "insignificant" as a hand wave.

I know that sometimes those of you who love someone who is depressed feel helpless. You seem unable to aid this person who is important to you. Today, I'm asking you to remember the lesson of the man in Hot Springs and the words of Jesus. Maybe, all we really need is for someone to bless us with a little thing.

This week, brighten some one's life with something small. Like a "Hi" or a smile or a pat or a cup of cold water. It will be greatly valued by those who are depressed and by the Lord who sees all that we do for others.

"Little things that you do let me know your love is true." (song by Bobby Goldsboro)

["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Outlaws And Monkeys

When I was about twelve, I became very interested in my "family tree." I asked my Mom and Dad for information about my ancestors, but they really weren't a lot of help. One day, my Dad said to me, "Stormy, I really don't think you want to do too much research on our family tree. If you go back far enough, you will find my relatives hanging from the tree by their necks and your mother's folks hanging by their tails."

Still, I never lost my interest. Knowing more about your family becomes especially important if you have a chronic depressive illness. Most of the scientific community believes that heredity is an important factor in diagnosing and understanding chronic depression. This is especially true in regards to Bipolar Disorder.

When discussing, with a doctor, the likelihood that you or someone you know has a mood disorder, I would advise that you research your family (parents, siblings, grandparents, etc.) and learn all that you can about the incidence of mental illness among your relatives. This will not be an easy task. In all probability, your family members will not be eager to disclose any problems that they or others might have with mental issues. In fact, they might become angry, resentful and defensive.

Fortunately, that was not the case in my family. I found that the more forthcoming I was about my own struggles, the more open they were about theirs. I think that there is some comfort in discovering that someone else has the same issues. After initiating the conversation, I found that many of my relatives suffered from some form of mental illness, ranging from chronic depression to schizophrenia to bipolar disorder. This was true on both sides of my family. In fact, it would have been a miracle if I had NOT had a mood disorder.

The older generation tended to describe depression as having a "nerve problem," or experiencing a "nervous breakdown." My own elderly mother had been hospitalized, but didn't realize that she had been treated for depression until I discussed it with her. Even I have had doctors who prescribed antidepressants without explaining what I was being treated for. The issue of stigma affects physicians as well as their patients, sometimes influencing the amount of information given to their patients.

I wish I had known about my family history before I married. Knowing what I know now, I would be reluctant to bring any children into the world who might possibly have as a big of a problem with depression as I have had. This is not to say that I don't love children, or that I'm not glad to be a father. I am, but I am concerned about my sons and my grandchildren and any mental health issues that they might have in the future.

I would hate for any of my descendants to claim that they were "ancestrally challenged."

Do You Know?

Two psychiatrists went duck hunting and the first pointed overhead and said, "There flies a duck." The other psychiatrist replied, "Yes, but does he know he's a duck?"

There's a touch of reality buried in that joke. We don't always know who or what we are. Self-identity is especially confusing for people who have Bipolar Disorder and those who know them intimately. Because of the nature of this disease, it's difficult for all of us to separate the disorder from the essential person.

I remember that during the late sixties and early seventies young people went in search of their self-identity. Probably every generation has wondered what place they would have in the world and how people would be able to distinguish them from other humans or with what words they might be described to strangers.

Self-description can be as important as how others would speak of you. I strongly believe that when we say, "I'm Bipolar," then we have made a serious psychological mistake. If we do so, then we have added to the confusion and the difficulty in separating the disorder from our core personality and character. We become our illness, not just a person afflicted with the illness.

I can think of no other disease whose patients would identify themselves so closely with their medical condition. We would certainly be surprised if someone introduced themselves saying, "Hi. I am Cancer, or I am Diabetes or I am Heart Disease." That would sound pretty strange, but people with BP disorder will usually say, "I'm Bipolar," as if that tells others (and self) who or what they truly are.

It has long been acknowledged behavior among men for one to ask another, "What do you do?" This is usually an attempt to find a basis for relationship. Men generally judge another man's identity and worth by what they DO (occupation) rather than by what they ARE in terms of character and spirituality. Test it. The next time you are in a situation where you are being introduced to strangers, see how long it takes for someone to ask you the "do" question.

The obvious problem with that is that people are much more (sometimes less) than what they do. What do you really know about me if I say that I'm a husband, father, veteran, horse trainer, college student, minister, bartender, high-voltage lineman, salesman, counselor, bus driver, expert rifleman, document analyst, businessman or hamburger cook? I've been (done) all of those things, but does knowing that get you any closer to identifying the essential me? Does changing occupations change my personality or character?

Is it any wonder that people who have Bipolar Disorder are continually having an "identity crisis?" There is surely a place where the illness ends and the true person begins, but we struggle with locating the line. Our medical professionals and our loved ones have difficulty determining which behaviors are attributable to the disorder and which are an expression of personality and character.

About two years ago, I began a quest for my own identity. I was confused myself. My method was to locate all of my old school annuals and personal letters and report cards and notes of encouragement that I have received from family, friends and co-workers. Then I began to read them carefully, compiling a list of key descriptors related to my personality or character traits. After hours of analyzing and making notes, I began to see that some remarks were consistent from childhood through adulthood. There were certain personality and character traits that most people saw, no matter how old I was or what I was "doing" or where I lived or how depressed I was.

Even though my methodology was less than perfect, I believe that I now have a better understanding of myself. I now have one more tool to battle the insidious nature of Bipolar depression. I am not "Mr. Mood Disorder." I have a name, a personality, a character, a history and an identity uniquely mine. I also have a personal manifestation of a serious mental illness. Ultimately, though, it doesn't matter whether or not I am understood by others or even myself. There is One who knows me better than anyone can. The One who identifies me as His beloved child.

"O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all of my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord. ....Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain (Psalm 139: 1-4, 6)."

Things Worse Than Depression

Yes, there are things (many?) worse than depression. I'm experiencing one of those right now. Sunday, minutes after I awakened, I began to sneeze uncontrollably. One after another after another. Teresa covered her ears and the dog started to bark. My sneezes are of the Olympic variety. If they ever form a team of sneezers, I'm sure that they will make me captain. And when the dust has settled, I will wear the gold.

If I don't catch my sneezes in a towel or something durable, I'm likely to blow a hole in the sheet rock. I sneezed outside one time and the tornado sirens went off. It's no fun being a champion sneezer. It's hard to find people brave enough to be your friend.

As you probably have guessed, I have a bad cold. Three days have passed, and I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. Some twisted person has called this the "common" cold. It's only common if someone else has it, but if it is yours, then it's uncommonly bad.

As I reclined in bed last night, I contemplated the meaning of it all. Now, I know that God has a purpose for everything that He created. I don't always see the purpose, but that doesn't change the fact that God has His reasons. Seriously, why did He have to bring into being the leeches and mosquitoes and chicks and tiggers? Some would say that we could also do without snakes and spiders and rats. Where can I find meaning in all of this?

I don't know. (Three of the most important words in the world.) What I pondered was the question of why the Creator created the "common" cold. Great advances have been made in science and in the treatment of cancer and diabetes and heart disease, but we have failed to find a cure for the cold. Why is that?

One possible answer has come to me. Maybe God created the cold to keep us humble. No matter how beautiful or strong or intelligent or rich or powerful you are, you still have no control over a cold. You can't buy it away or wish it away or even pray it away. At some point, you have to be humbled by that. As it is written, "A man's pride will bring him low, but a humble spirit will obtain honor (Proverbs 29:23)."

Some of us (maybe all) have to be broken so we can be mended. Pride is at the root of many of our problems. Pride creates a barrier between us and God. I believe that throughout the history of mankind, more wars have been fought because of pride that any other reason. Maybe the common cold is the Lord's form of biological warfare against all forms of pride. I don't know (three very important words).

I do know this. The common cold brings me low. It breaks me in ways that nothing else can. Truly, if I had to live with a cold for as many years as I've lived with depression, I would probably step in front of a bus. There are definitely things that are worse than depression. I thank God that my colds are of reasonably short duration. If I had to live with one for a very long time, I would certainly be...well...depressed.

["I'm so low, I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Can't Live Without Them

You can't live with them, and you can't live without them." This old saying especially speaks to the heart of those who have a friend, co-worker, or family member who has a major chronic depressive disorder. In my last blog, I tried to express the feelings and struggles of those who are mentally ill. Now, I want to share a list of ideas that I've compiled for you caregivers.

01-Knowledge is power. The first step needed is to gain as much knowledge as you can about your loved one's illness. I can't overemphasize the importance of this.

02-Join a support group. There are other people sharing your struggles. Check with DBSA and NAMI for a local chapter.

03-Don't try to "fix" mental illness. It can not be done. The goal is control, not "fixing."

04-Find a medical professional that you can talk with on a one-on-one basis. If possible, go with your loved one to his/her appointments with their doctor. Try to be interactive in their care.

05-Find time for yourself doing something that you enjoy. This is to be done alone or with people other than your spouse. Be especially careful, though, that you don't develop a romantic interest in another person.

06-When your partner is in a healthy mental state, talk quietly with them about your needs and hurts. Don't confront or be judgemental, but be frank.

07-Remember, "this too shall pass."

08-Allow yourself time to reminisce about the good times. Look forward to new ones.

09-View your loved one's illness as something that you have to fight as a team.

10-Spend quality time with your extended family or church friends.

11-Allow yourself a special treat occasionally.

12-Don't try to always be the "strong one." Have a good cry.

13-Try not to take unpleasantness personally. Most of the time, it is their illness speaking, not them.

14-Let the people around you know when you are going through an especially difficult time.

15-Don't have high expectations of someone in poor mental health. You are setting yourself up for disappointment.

16-Do not turn to alcohol, drugs, or extramarital sex to take away your pain and frustrations.

17-Laughter is always good medicine. Rent some comedic movies and invite your friends to watch them with you.

18-If necessary, do not hesitate to see a marriage counselor, but do it when your spouse is mentally stable. Make sure that your counselor is knowledgeable about mental illness.

19-Don't get entangled in a "blame game." This situation is not the fault of your partner, not is it yours.

20-Make sure that God is a big part of your life. He knows, He cares, and He will strengthen you.

I will give you some more suggestions in the future. If you have anything that you believe would be helpful, please post it in the comments section.

"The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:5-7)."

["I'm so low I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]

Depression and Marriage-#1

Statistically, 90 per cent of all marriages involving a spouse with Bipolar Disorder end in divorce. That truly is a shocking statistic. Having just celebrated our 32nd wedding anniversary, my wife and I have beaten the odds. Up to this week. Up to this day. Up to this hour.

We don't take our marriage for granted. It has been in jeopardy many times due to my depressive illness. At times, I've wanted to quit. At times, she's wanted to quit. Fortunately, we've never both wanted to give up at the same time. We realize that if we had not had God in our lives, our marriage wouldn't have survived. He is the glue that has held us together, even when we were not sure that we wanted to be together.

Any depressive disorder takes a tremendous toll on the relationship between husband and wife. Marriage can be difficult under any circumstances, but chronic depression or manic behavior can be a killer.

Speaking from a personal perspective, when I am depressed, my emotions are all skewed. What I see and what I feel are not always reflective of reality. I become especially sensitive to what people say to me. When no harm or criticism is meant, I still hear it in the voice of my wife. It's not really there, but my depression creates it. My depressive imagination tells me that she wants a divorce. I imagine that she would rather be married to someone else. That may be true at times (I'm afraid to ask), but my irrational thinking process concludes that she feels that way all of the time.

I wouldn't blame her. I really wouldn't, but I would be deeply hurt if she left me. You see, those of us with depressive disorders often feel that we don't deserve to be loved. We think that we are unworthy of love, because of the impact of our disease on other people. We may think and feel irrationally sometimes, but not all of the time. When we are thinking clearly, we still have to accept the reality that mental illness puts an almost unbearable strain on relationships.

Guilt is the monster that consumes our self-respect. We think, "He/She would be better off without me." Those thoughts are dangerous. I believe, after much reflection and study, that feelings of guilt may often be the driving force behind suicide. I know that I come closer to the edge when I'm feeling guilty than at any other time. Those thoughts have to be fought. The reality is that our spouses probably don't feel that way at all. I know that Teresa doesn't, but I don't always believe her. I may think, "She won't admit it, but she really thinks that she would be better off without me." That's my illness lying to my brain and my heart.

I once announced to a preacher's group that I would have to leave ministry due to my depression. Following our meeting, one of the preachers asked me privately, "Do you ever feel like running away?" You see, he too had a depressive disorder. Running away from marriage and intimate relationships is a fantasy often held by those with mental illness. We believe that dropping out of marriage and people's lives is what is best for everyone concerned. Then our spouses can get on with life. A life without us to complicate everything. Again, those are feelings of guilt riding on the back of our irrational thinking.

I know, intellectually, that my wife loves me. She's proven it over and over again. She has been faithful and tolerant and understanding. She has been loyal and supportive and steadfast. All of the above are characteristics of the Biblical form of love.

The "Agape" love spoken of in the Bible is a "doing" love, not a "feeling" love. We don't always feel loving, in an emotional sense, but we can always seek the best interests of others. That is how God defines and demonstrates love.

Paul wrote, "Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others (Philippians 2:4)." A careful reading of 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, will show us that
Agape love is not a fleeting feeling, but it is something that we do and something we are. When we love others, even our spouses, in this manner, we are most like God. "But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8)."

Teresa and I have beaten the odds. We have demonstrated our love and commitment to each other year after year. Our marriage has been refined in the fire and beaten on life's anvil. With God as our glue, we will have many more years of life with one another. In spite of my depressive disorder. Maybe even because of it.


["I'm so low I could do a ten minute free-fall off the edge of a dime."]