we pay for not caring about those who are not properly nourished

pbs aired an amazing documentary on depression last night. (my post title is a quote by terrie williams, who is interviewed in the special. for more information, click on the documentary link; pbs has provided video clips and transcripts of the show on its site.)

those of you who know me, truly know me, understand that my personal experiences with and on-going treatment for clinical depression define my "calling". i am not extraordinary. i just tell my story, as i believe god wants me to, and pray that it connects with any other soul that may be suffering. because, none of us should ever have to suffer alone.

to me it's ironic, for a couple of reasons, that the pbs special aired this week. my first episode of depression happened in may 1989, a week before my college graduation. i didn't know what it was. i vividly remember driving home for the weekend, going up to my bedroom, kneeling on the right side of the bed, and literally knocking on the side of my head the way you do when you have water in your ears. my brain felt full. something was wrong. my mind was racing. i couldn't tell a soul, mainly because i had no idea what was happening. and if i couldn't adequately define it, i certainly couldn't get help for it. a few days later, it dissipated and was gone. i chalked it up to the stress of graduation, the uncertainty of my future, and being madly in love for the first time in my life.

after 8 more years of on-again and off-again silent suffering, i got help.

some of you know the story...after weeks of not sleeping or eating, yet not missing work or telling my husband, i paced my house. from one end to the other, stopping every now and then to peer at myself in the mirror, horrified. finally, i looked at my husband and said, "you need to take me to the hospital". he was clueless. i called adena, and told the e.r., "i'm losing it, i'm on my way, and you need to have somebody ready for me." thus began my recovery.

this week, a friend (whom i can't name for fear that the ever-present "depression-stigma" may affect her professionally) confided in me that she was suffering terribly. jane (not her real name) said that she remembered me explaining how i initially got help, and so, after suffering in silence for the past several months, she left work and drove herself straight to a hospital. also like me, she described how she didn't want to intentionally kill herself, but if she had been in a car accident on the way to the e.r, that would've been okay.

her family's responses to her diagnosis have been somewhat typical: "you need to lean more on god," "you're apparently not a good christian," and the good old-fashioned, "what have you got to be said about? shake it off. "

(*sigh*)

andrew solomon, author of the noonday demon, provides some of the most amazing dialogue on depression in the pbs special:

It's a poverty of the English language that we only have that one word, depression, that's used to describe how a little kid feels when it rains on the day of his baseball game, and it's also used to describe why people spend their lives in mental hospitals and end up killing themselves. But clinical depression really has to do with the feeling that you can't do anything, that everything is unbelievably difficult, that life is completely terrifying, and a feeling of this free-floating despair, which is overpowering and horrifying.

interestingly, i learned from the documentary that scientists have identified the positive biological effect that talk therapy produces in the brain. i mean, we all know that there is power in verbalizing our hurts and insecurities and fears with someone we feel safe with it. but there are also real, physiological benefits:

"New evidence shows that the act of talking, like medication, also produces changes in the brain, impacting a group of regions including the frontal area and the hippocampus, which is associated with learning and memory."

so talking is good. don't stay in the dark. no one has to suffer alone.

philip burguries, chairman and ceo of a fortune 100 company and vice-chairman of the houston texans, recounted his initial diagnosis and subsequent stay in a mental hospital by tearfully sharing the story of a woman he met while in treatment:

Safe in a hospital, he met another patient who encouraged him to speak out. She looked me right in the eye. And she said, "Philip, I'm not gonna make it. But you are." And then she said, "I want you to promise me something. When you make it, I want you to promise me that you'll tell your story, because you can help other people." Philip took his story public in Houston before a group of business leaders. This action inspired executives the world over to seek his advice about their own battles with depression.

we have the ability to nourish each other...to sustain one another with love and patience and understanding and education and grace and honesty and vulnerability...and perhaps most importantly, with availability.

jesus said, "go tell your story."

because no one should ever have to suffer alone.