Depression is not logical

I remember sitting there in the passenger seat, crying my eyes out while my wife drove us home from church. A grown man, four wonderful children, great wife, good job, and apparently healthy. I was emotionally drained, no appetite, no desire for any thing. I remember that whenever I would drive past a graveyard I would think how lucky the people buried in there were. Their worries were over, they had no burdens, no worries, and they were not going through what I was. Self pity to the extreme. My doctor had changed my medication after a short time on two different antidepressants, he had taken one completely away and I had gone back into serious depression in just a matter of days or maybe even hours. It was so long ago that I don't remember any thing too precise, except some of the misery. When we called and told the doctor this, he felt bad about putting me through more of what he had been trying to cure. He immediately put me back on the drug, and more time off work which gave me something more to worry about. Now this was a legitimate thing to worry about, being off work meant no income and our small savings was disappearing fast. Then my well meaning parents or others would say something negative about our situation and this would just crush me emotionally.

So it came down to if I could get my emotions under control I could work and make a living, but if the environment that I was creating was unbearable, then things just got worse. The whole point that I am trying to make here is that there is no obvious reason that a person can give for feeling the way they do, when they are suffering from depression.

At this time I really needed support. My family had patience, and was there for me, but did not understand my feelings any better than I did.

I think that this was probably about the time that I started reading the Plus devotional magazine that Norman Vincent Peale was publishing. It had stories of people overcoming emotional obstacles and positive scripture on every page. I followed Dr. Peale’s suggestions about confidence building and slowly gained ground. One time when Dr. Peale was in town speaking at a motivational seminar, I laid off work and bought tickets to go. I don't recall hearing of support groups, or seeing ads about the threat of depression. I think that I was ahead of the curve on treatment available and wide understanding of my problem. I am just lucky that I wasn't so far back in time that I was subjected to being locked up or undergoing shock treatment. Reading Dr. Peale’s material was my support group, and the scripture and prayer my therapy.

In the King James version of the Bible, book of Ephesians, chapter 6, verse 11, Paul writes to "Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil." I think that we need this armour to deal with the difficulties of life too. It could also be looked on as a tool kit. In this tool kit would be having proper values, proper priorities, positive attitude, patience, understanding, wisdom, compassion, unselfishness, humbleness, and empathy.

So whether we have armour for protection, or tools for repair and building back our damaged character and self-esteem, this is what we must strive to find and hold onto like a life ring in the ocean. I was guided to positive scripture like "Lu 11:9 And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.", " Mt 11:30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.", "Mt 11:28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.", "Phil 4:7 I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.", and "Ro 8:31 What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?" For many years keeping scripture like this in my memory in easy reach to use when needed has been my salvation.

Years later I had been told that the medicine I was on might cause heart trouble so I asked my doctor, (who was a different doctor by this time and new to me and had been writing my prescriptions based on my medical history), to consider taking me off these meds. He wanted nothing to do with taking them away from me. He said that treating depression with these types of medication was so new, that it was not understood and if the medicine was working I should leave well enough alone. This would have been in the late nineteen eighties, ten to twelve years after my start into depression. A few months later another doctor referred me to a Psychiatrist who weaned me off the medicine a small fraction at a time. It seems that if you come off all at once it messes up your body chemistry as I suggested earlier in my writing.

So this is my story that is not over yet, as I still cope with the difficulties of life wearing the armour of God, and using my tool kit.