I'm sure everyone at some point in their life has met, been friends with, been related to, or otherwise dealt relationally with someone who is depressed.
But how the heck do you respond to someone who LIKES to be depressed?
Having dealt with depression myself, I can definitively say that it IS possible to enjoy depression. That may sound weird or twisted, and quite frankly it is, but part of that, I feel, has to do with the heart of the matter.
For myself, being alone, feeling alone, was almost a comfort blanket for me. It was something familiar, something I knew, something I could trust. I'd compare it to the feeling of control one gets when cutting (again, from unfortunate experience).
Sometimes, life feels so empty, or disastrous, or painful, or whatever adjective you could use to describe it. Whatever phrase or word choice you use, life can leave you low, and desperate for some way to bring back a safe feeling, or a feeling of control over the little bubble that is your world.
Sometimes, that feeling IS a feeling. As humans, we seek some form of routine, some sense of normalcy for ourselves. That doesn't necessarily look the same as most other people's "normal", but it's familiar, comforting, and "safe" for us. So being depressed, or feeling alone, or feeling... bad in general, may be just that feeling.
I've heard others say things like, "I didn't trust the happy feeling, because it didn't feel real". Does that sound familiar?
Sometimes, being alone, being sad, is something we can grasp easier than the feeling of happiness, the joy of friends.
The difference lies in the choice.
Back in middle school, I was tortured mercilessly by girls my age (and even their mothers!) to the point that my parents removed me from my private school and homeschooled me for my own safety. That left a lot of deep wounds and scars, both physical and emotional, that took me YEARS to work through. Until I was forced to be roomies with 4 other girls in an all girls dorm hall my first year of college, I couldn't STAND women, even the ones I called "friends".
I found women catty, manipulative, bitchy, cruel, sarcastic, and basely deplorable. They made me constantly wonder if I was the center of their "Gossip Hour" when I wasn't around.
After about 6 months in the dorms in Texas, I began to realize that not all women were like the girls I'd grown up with. Not all of them disliked me even nearly as much as I disliked them.
And that scared me.
I was much happier being a "free spirit", "independent", and depressed (as a result) than I was with the new feeling of camaraderie with other women. I wasn't sure what I should do, what I should actually feel about all of this.
Unfortunately, most people who find themselves feeling this way did not choose what I did, and most likely will not. For me, it meant getting over myself, and I am much happier now for it.
The choice I refer to is not some great big life-altering choice. It's one I made every day, every moment of a few of those days. It meant making myself go out and doing things with other people, it meant choosing not to listen to the songs that gave me the "depressive rush", like some of Anberlin's stuff (example). It also meant kicking my own arse and get on with my life, despite whether other people in my life had paid for, or even apologized for, wrongs they'd done against me.
I hate to sound harsh, but choosing to remain depressed is almost as selfish as suicide, the only difference being that there is still time to change.
One of the greatest plagues I think our society faces right now is the "me" disease: the self-centered, self-serving, put #1 first attitude that makes others' needs irrelevant. This in turn allows for actions, behaviors, and words that could hurt other people, without any guilt.While I firmly believe that each person's life is their own, free to choose how they will lead and live their own life, I do not believe in the continuous guilt trips, the worry, and the pain an intentional depression places on the friends and family of that person.
There's just no need for it.
I would argue that while happiness is a temporary emotion, joy is a state of being.
You can be having a crappy day, but still manage to have a genuine smile on your face because you know that the day you're in wasn't yesterday, and certainly won't be tomorrow. You can know that, because you knew it yesterday, and every day before that. Life goes on.
Choosing joy may not necessarily mean you are happy a majority, or even half the time, but it will reflect in how you respond to what happens to you, which can make ALL the difference in the world.
One example of this is an outburst my husband endured from his sister, simply for asking how she was holding up with the news that their grandfather was dying. He hadn't gotten more than a "hey, how are you doing?" out before the tirade began. She was not choosing joy. She was choosing instead to let the hurt and grief overflow and rain down on others, not realizing what it was doing to her brother, who was also hurt and grieving.
I don't say this to point fingers at her, it's simply an example of not choosing joy. A friend of the family's can be seen choosing joy in another example, where, despite having recently lost a child of her own, she chose to spend her new free time caring for an ailing friend, who also later died. She chose to help her friend leave life as easily and happily as possible, instead of wallowing in her own grief and possibly self pity.
Still not getting it? Look at the difference between King Saul and David. King Saul was so depressed and angry all the time, people feared him, and his counselors had to bring in a musical therapist to lull him into a type of coma between his rage fests. David had to fear for his life several times, and eventually became the center of a manhunt led by (surprise!) Saul.
David, on the other hand, was a simple shepherd boy who did not live in a great big palace with plenty of food (at least not at first). He had brothers who picked on him all the time, and had to fend off lions and bears from eating his sheep (very well I might add). Yet he wrote psalms that were said to calm even King Saul, and King Saul's own son was David's best friend. They were such good friends that Jonathan even swore to die for him. Despite his hard life, David's soul eeked out joy into his life, and into the lives of those around him. Even when he had lost his son with Bathsheba, he chose to praise the Lord and not wallow. At one point he was so happy he danced naked in the streets, praising God aloud.
I could go on, but I think my point there has been made. When it comes to how well your life actually is, it really is a matter of perspective, and of choosing joy. What will you choose?
But how the heck do you respond to someone who LIKES to be depressed?
Having dealt with depression myself, I can definitively say that it IS possible to enjoy depression. That may sound weird or twisted, and quite frankly it is, but part of that, I feel, has to do with the heart of the matter.
For myself, being alone, feeling alone, was almost a comfort blanket for me. It was something familiar, something I knew, something I could trust. I'd compare it to the feeling of control one gets when cutting (again, from unfortunate experience).
Sometimes, life feels so empty, or disastrous, or painful, or whatever adjective you could use to describe it. Whatever phrase or word choice you use, life can leave you low, and desperate for some way to bring back a safe feeling, or a feeling of control over the little bubble that is your world.
Sometimes, that feeling IS a feeling. As humans, we seek some form of routine, some sense of normalcy for ourselves. That doesn't necessarily look the same as most other people's "normal", but it's familiar, comforting, and "safe" for us. So being depressed, or feeling alone, or feeling... bad in general, may be just that feeling.
I've heard others say things like, "I didn't trust the happy feeling, because it didn't feel real". Does that sound familiar?
Sometimes, being alone, being sad, is something we can grasp easier than the feeling of happiness, the joy of friends.
The difference lies in the choice.
Back in middle school, I was tortured mercilessly by girls my age (and even their mothers!) to the point that my parents removed me from my private school and homeschooled me for my own safety. That left a lot of deep wounds and scars, both physical and emotional, that took me YEARS to work through. Until I was forced to be roomies with 4 other girls in an all girls dorm hall my first year of college, I couldn't STAND women, even the ones I called "friends".
I found women catty, manipulative, bitchy, cruel, sarcastic, and basely deplorable. They made me constantly wonder if I was the center of their "Gossip Hour" when I wasn't around.
After about 6 months in the dorms in Texas, I began to realize that not all women were like the girls I'd grown up with. Not all of them disliked me even nearly as much as I disliked them.
And that scared me.
I was much happier being a "free spirit", "independent", and depressed (as a result) than I was with the new feeling of camaraderie with other women. I wasn't sure what I should do, what I should actually feel about all of this.
Unfortunately, most people who find themselves feeling this way did not choose what I did, and most likely will not. For me, it meant getting over myself, and I am much happier now for it.
The choice I refer to is not some great big life-altering choice. It's one I made every day, every moment of a few of those days. It meant making myself go out and doing things with other people, it meant choosing not to listen to the songs that gave me the "depressive rush", like some of Anberlin's stuff (example). It also meant kicking my own arse and get on with my life, despite whether other people in my life had paid for, or even apologized for, wrongs they'd done against me.
I hate to sound harsh, but choosing to remain depressed is almost as selfish as suicide, the only difference being that there is still time to change.
One of the greatest plagues I think our society faces right now is the "me" disease: the self-centered, self-serving, put #1 first attitude that makes others' needs irrelevant. This in turn allows for actions, behaviors, and words that could hurt other people, without any guilt.While I firmly believe that each person's life is their own, free to choose how they will lead and live their own life, I do not believe in the continuous guilt trips, the worry, and the pain an intentional depression places on the friends and family of that person.
There's just no need for it.
I would argue that while happiness is a temporary emotion, joy is a state of being.
You can be having a crappy day, but still manage to have a genuine smile on your face because you know that the day you're in wasn't yesterday, and certainly won't be tomorrow. You can know that, because you knew it yesterday, and every day before that. Life goes on.
Choosing joy may not necessarily mean you are happy a majority, or even half the time, but it will reflect in how you respond to what happens to you, which can make ALL the difference in the world.
One example of this is an outburst my husband endured from his sister, simply for asking how she was holding up with the news that their grandfather was dying. He hadn't gotten more than a "hey, how are you doing?" out before the tirade began. She was not choosing joy. She was choosing instead to let the hurt and grief overflow and rain down on others, not realizing what it was doing to her brother, who was also hurt and grieving.
I don't say this to point fingers at her, it's simply an example of not choosing joy. A friend of the family's can be seen choosing joy in another example, where, despite having recently lost a child of her own, she chose to spend her new free time caring for an ailing friend, who also later died. She chose to help her friend leave life as easily and happily as possible, instead of wallowing in her own grief and possibly self pity.
Still not getting it? Look at the difference between King Saul and David. King Saul was so depressed and angry all the time, people feared him, and his counselors had to bring in a musical therapist to lull him into a type of coma between his rage fests. David had to fear for his life several times, and eventually became the center of a manhunt led by (surprise!) Saul.
David, on the other hand, was a simple shepherd boy who did not live in a great big palace with plenty of food (at least not at first). He had brothers who picked on him all the time, and had to fend off lions and bears from eating his sheep (very well I might add). Yet he wrote psalms that were said to calm even King Saul, and King Saul's own son was David's best friend. They were such good friends that Jonathan even swore to die for him. Despite his hard life, David's soul eeked out joy into his life, and into the lives of those around him. Even when he had lost his son with Bathsheba, he chose to praise the Lord and not wallow. At one point he was so happy he danced naked in the streets, praising God aloud.
I could go on, but I think my point there has been made. When it comes to how well your life actually is, it really is a matter of perspective, and of choosing joy. What will you choose?
