Yes, I do realize this is overdue. Bleh.
Anyway. I’ve had plenty of opportunity in the interim to think, what with it being a hobby of mine. I’ve been thinking about how very silly I am when I’m feeling down. Things that normally wouldn’t bother me at all bug the heck out of me. And it’s not just annoyances, of course. Things about me that I normally might even think are cool suddenly become something to be ashamed of.
Let’s look at some of the very silly things about me that crop up. For one thing, when I’m down, I tend to gravitate towards people who I think may be able to comfort me. Good friends and all that. Oddly, though, I also notice that my behavior tends to be somewhat awkward, which can stress things between me and the people that, at the moment, I really don’t want to be annoying. At least, it seems to be such. Although I should say that it has definitely happened in the past. And being awkward makes me feel worse.
I’m sure you can realize how nasty that spiral can be. The worse I feel, the more me behavior shows it, and the worse I feel in return.
Add to that that every worry I ever feel gets magnified. And I even find reasons to be worried. I was realizing a couple days ago, in one of my black moods, that in certain periods of my past I always was a loser. The kid who didn’t ever have any friends, and not for lack of trying. Ohh no. I tried, and it was awkward, and it made me feel even more outcast. And I’m afraid of that happening. And when I’m down, I relive that to a degree.
Pretty sad, ain’t it?
Well, try this on for size. I have noticed some traits about myself that I think are kinda neat. I’m easy to read emotionally, for one. I do not try to hide my emotions. If I’m feeling down, I will be such a morose, downcast, lifeless statue that it’s impossible to miss. If I’m happy, I will be animated and lively. Very. And I am not proprietary at all with regards to talking about how I am, or why, or anything, really. I like that. Openness, clarity, and honesty are all Very Important things. And I really love talking about matters of significance. I can’t live without it. And I really care about people, and hate suffering, and I have some understanding of how people are supposed to interact. And when I see suffering, or perversions of human relations, it shocks and grieves me. In the movie “Amazing Grace,” several scenes brought tears to my eyes because they so starkly portrayed how horrible conditions were, and the people that subjected other people to that treatment… It sickens me. And a month or so ago, at a talk at a Christian conference, the speaker mentioned that every year one million girls aged, I think 12 and under, are forced into prostitution. And I have rarely been so horrified or shocked as I was, imagining what that must be like. And you know, I don’t think those are bad traits at all.
Except when I’m feeling down. Then, I look around me and see that I’m different because nobody else feels as obviously as I do, and I am ashamed. Ashamed of good in me, because I seem different. And I’m afraid that because I’m supposedly different, the people around me, even or perhaps especially the people I care about, can’t possibly be anything other than annoyed at me.
But I also realize a few things, now in my moment of greater clarity, even though I really need some frickin’ sleep. First, my worries are often pretty lame in how I think of other people. I worry that my awkwardness will annoy my friends (again). But really… if my friends actually care about me, they will understand, right? And they’ll take it in stride, and instead of being repulsed at my trying to lean on them, they will actually help me, right? I mean, I pretty much NEVER am annoyed at anyone else just for being down! I’ll burn good sleeping hours talking to them if need be, and not even realize that some people might be annoyed by such a thing. I’ll step out to help people who seem to be shying away from help. But my friends, I can’t trust them to do that with me.
Do I really think they’re so petty?
Do I really think that they will actually see good things in me and think ill of me for, say, being strongly moved by some expert portrayal of human interaction gone wrong when nobody else is? Or for seeing such things where nobody else does? Or where nobody else sees and is visibly disturbed, ’cause not everyone wears their emotions on their sleeve like me?
And a friend of mine (who is awesome) mentioned that when he’s down he tends to make mountains out of molehills. That is true, and is related to much I’ve already said.
I realized earlier today that there is one molehill in particular that I make a very large mountain out of when I’m down. It’s me.
When I’m depressed, my problems and worries and fears get all the air time. I just don’t think about other people, except perhaps in how they relate to my situation. And my problems seem to me to be the only important and looming thing.
Which is pretty silly. I’m but one man. And not a man of any more significance than any other. And other people have WAY more problems than I do, but it’s mine that I worry about. And I’m CERTAINLY not as large as God is, but even He becomes important only as part of a solution to my problems. Which is pretty sick. But remembering my place is always a big help. My problems are not as big as I think. God is bigger, and there’s never been a problem that hasn’t been resolved.
I also notice that my fears stop me from doing what would show me there’s nothing to fear. If I notice that I am still behaving in ways like I did when I was a lonesome loser, and with some of the same effects, and am afraid I’ll never be free of that, that will keep me depressed. And when I’m depressed, I can’t be a good friend to anyone. It really is that being afraid of being a loser prevents me from NOT acting like one! And realizing this does help me see that there isn’t really anything stopping me. I build a cage in my head, and as long as I decide to stay inside it, I can’t escape. The moment I realize that I’m encased in walls of paper and my hands are bound only by themselves, it really isn’t hard to sober up and start acting like I want to. ‘Course, feeling down may not go away immediately upon sobering up in this way, but neither does a hangover. Or so I’ve heard. But there’s no better way to prove to yourself that you CAN be a real person than to be a real person. Even when I’m feeling down it’s hard to argue with that.
Finally, I have one more thing to make note of. I have noticed how things in my past have seeded some of my worries and fears. I used to be a loser, and I really don’t want to be one now. I used to have my brothers put me down constantly, saying I’d never be anything, and I’m afraid and worried that I’ll never be anything; that I’ll never accomplish anything and that if I vanished off the face of the earth it wouldn’t really be a big deal.
But I can see how even those very things have also shaped me into the kind of person I am in a good way as well. I can empathize with people and understand because I know what it is to not be understood. I grieve when I see strained and broken relations because I understand what that means. I can’t stand to see suffering because I know what it does to a person. I care about people because I know what it is to be uncared for. And so, in a beautiful paradox, the ways that I have suffered have shaped both what I worry about and what I care about.
And if things like that, if even things like the death of my brother 15 years ago can actually help shape me into a better person, and the worst things that happen to me actually make me grow, do I really have any cause to be depressed? Not bloody likely.
And I have talked with others about it, and I’ve been realizing something that I’ve heard before, but now I know what it means a lot better. Namely, that it is, at least largely, caused by believing something false.