"Life is getting better." That's what I tell myself. Even though outwardly things aren't changing too much--other than losing weight physically and having a full-time job--there is an inward change. It's hard to describe. I am experiencing more peace and joy, and I am confident that is because I have been refocusing myself on God and His kingdom (no cliche intended). The last four years of my life have been brutal emotionally, and I've had to really acknowledge the brutality of it and reconcile it with God's love and affection towards me. It is a difficult thing to do, really, but it is something that must be done. "If you have never wrestled with God," an old friend said, "then maybe you have never really met Him." I have realized--and this is for a different post, to be sure--that as of late I have been worshiping myself and my own kingdom, and though repentance--i.e. refocusing on God and His kingdom over and against myself and my kingdom--has been embraced, it is still quite difficult. As C.S. Lewis once observed, repentance is hard for us because it involves the unlearning of thousands of years of self-love and self-devotion. For me, the last four to five years of my life have to be "unlearned." I don't wish to return to where I was before all this happened; that would be foolishness. No, I wish to rise above that.
One of my friends struggles with depression and is on all kinds of medicine for it. I am not against medicine for depression--I have been on it myself--but while there is danger in totally opposing medications for physiological problems in the brain, so there is danger in completely focusing everything on the physiological aspects of our lives (i.e. the belief that depression is rooted only in physiological disharmony). My friend is buying into this, and whenever life gets harder, he self-medicates. And his psychiatrist just continues to subscribe more and more medicines, each more powerful than the first. The result is a numbness that saturates his life. He is slowly becoming a vegetable, inwardly and outwardly. I hate to see it happen. And I bring this up because he looks at his life six years ago and wants to return to that life but feels powerless to do so; or at least powerless by his own efforts. He blames depression on the change in his life, and while depression certainly played a role, there were many other circumstances and situations--many self-employed--that drove him to the point where he is now. I don't wish to minimalize the affects of clinical depression on one's life; but as someone who has not only been there but is there often, I know that fighting the depression and taking back life isn't done by self-medication. It's done by acknowledging reality and working through it. For my friend, I have suggested--and continue to suggest--that his depression over life isn't just chemical, that it's also intelligent: he looks at his life, perceives it as it is, and it really does suck, and that only increases the depression. He knows this, he really does, but blaming a physiological issue for all one's problems--making it a scapegoat of sorts--is always appetizing. He wants to go back to where he is, but he feels powerless to do so; and I tell him that the evolution of himself between then and now took six years, so why does he think that he will reverse (go into devolution) to get back to where he was in a matter of days or months or even a year or two? It takes small changes, in the here and now; small and pragmatic rather than abstract and theoretical. He is unwilling to make these changes, and so his life remains the same.
The wild tangent ends, my point is resumed: over four years of depression, coupled with circumstances outside my control, and thanks to my own stubbornness to deal with the realities of my life, I have come to a certain place where I am not half the man I used to be. I want to return to that and go beyond, and I know it won't take just a few weeks or even months. It's an evolutionary process of the soul, but unlike the heathen and the pagan (I just love to use those words every once in a while; they are classic Christian dormitory insults), my evolution must not be constrained to forces outside my control or even forces that are within my control but too weak and powerless to really change things. The Spirit of God is within me, and God seeks my rescue and renewal. That is quite encouraging. I want this and God wants this, and He will see it through to the bloody end (metaphorical; hinting at a long journey ending in a certain destination).
One of my friends struggles with depression and is on all kinds of medicine for it. I am not against medicine for depression--I have been on it myself--but while there is danger in totally opposing medications for physiological problems in the brain, so there is danger in completely focusing everything on the physiological aspects of our lives (i.e. the belief that depression is rooted only in physiological disharmony). My friend is buying into this, and whenever life gets harder, he self-medicates. And his psychiatrist just continues to subscribe more and more medicines, each more powerful than the first. The result is a numbness that saturates his life. He is slowly becoming a vegetable, inwardly and outwardly. I hate to see it happen. And I bring this up because he looks at his life six years ago and wants to return to that life but feels powerless to do so; or at least powerless by his own efforts. He blames depression on the change in his life, and while depression certainly played a role, there were many other circumstances and situations--many self-employed--that drove him to the point where he is now. I don't wish to minimalize the affects of clinical depression on one's life; but as someone who has not only been there but is there often, I know that fighting the depression and taking back life isn't done by self-medication. It's done by acknowledging reality and working through it. For my friend, I have suggested--and continue to suggest--that his depression over life isn't just chemical, that it's also intelligent: he looks at his life, perceives it as it is, and it really does suck, and that only increases the depression. He knows this, he really does, but blaming a physiological issue for all one's problems--making it a scapegoat of sorts--is always appetizing. He wants to go back to where he is, but he feels powerless to do so; and I tell him that the evolution of himself between then and now took six years, so why does he think that he will reverse (go into devolution) to get back to where he was in a matter of days or months or even a year or two? It takes small changes, in the here and now; small and pragmatic rather than abstract and theoretical. He is unwilling to make these changes, and so his life remains the same.
The wild tangent ends, my point is resumed: over four years of depression, coupled with circumstances outside my control, and thanks to my own stubbornness to deal with the realities of my life, I have come to a certain place where I am not half the man I used to be. I want to return to that and go beyond, and I know it won't take just a few weeks or even months. It's an evolutionary process of the soul, but unlike the heathen and the pagan (I just love to use those words every once in a while; they are classic Christian dormitory insults), my evolution must not be constrained to forces outside my control or even forces that are within my control but too weak and powerless to really change things. The Spirit of God is within me, and God seeks my rescue and renewal. That is quite encouraging. I want this and God wants this, and He will see it through to the bloody end (metaphorical; hinting at a long journey ending in a certain destination).
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