The Green-Eyed Monster

It started off simply and innocently enough.  One of my closest friends posted on Facebook an encouraging post to her three children.  It said how proud she was of all of her children for having found meaningful employment and independence as young adults.

But it was like a slap in my face, a kick to the stomach.  It really hurt, and I mean physically as well as emotionally, as I wondered for the bazillionth time if my son will ever achieve independence.  If I will ever be able to sit back in happy contentment and glow with parental pride about my son's accomplishments.

My own downward spiral began, and my jealousy raged out of control. I found myself knotted over any good news where I was not the direct recipient.  A friend's retirement travel plans.  A relative's upcoming wedding.  A friend's husband's new job.  I am ashamed to say that my descent continued for weeks.

I knew my pain and jealousy was rapidly headed down the road to bitterness.  I could feel it in my tightly clenched jaw.

I had a vague recollection of a page in my Bible that grouped and listed "Psalms For When ..."  Sure enough, there was a category for "Psalms For When You are Feeling Jealous."  I started with Psalm 37.

Depending on the translation you prefer, the opening words of Psalm 37 are "Fret not" or "Do not fret."  The ESV and the Amplified Bible say "Fret not yourself."  The word "fret" and the admonition not to do it appears several more times in the same Psalm.  

I've been taught as a general rule in Bible study, that when a word appears more than once, it is worthy to research it. 

Listen to some of the synonyms or alternate meanings for the word "fret" as listed by Strong's:  to glow or grow warm; to blaze up; anger; to burn, be displeased, jealous; self, grieve; kindle.

What a word picture!  Fretting is something I do to myself when I think the same thoughts over and over.  I grieve myself, I kindle my anger and jealousy until it glows and then blazes into anger.  I am doing it to myself.

The fire hose is found in Philippians 4:8 "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things."  (NIV)

Here, I like the NIV, because some years ago I did a Bible study (Conversation Peace by Mary Kassian) where the author made up an acronym for Philippians 4:8 -- albeit out of order -- PRE-PLANT, for my thoughts.  Before allowing some alien invasive species of thought to take root in and over my mind and heart like kudzu, I need to treat the soil of my mind with whatever is Pure, Right, Excellent, Praiseworthy, Lovely, Admirable, Noble, and True.

A most excellent resource for helping me (us) to channel our thoughts in the right direction is Ann Voskamp's book, 1,000 Gifts.  I cannot do justice to her words or her journey to healing, but she writes about a friend daring her to list 1,000 things she was grateful for, and the miraculous transformation she has experienced by focusing on "such things."

I wish I could close today by saying that I've made it; I've mastered my jealousy and am at total peace.  But I can't.  Like my son, I am a work in progress.

Put On Your Own Oxygen Mask First

If you've ever listened and paid attention to the flight attendant's instructions on what to do in case of emergency, you will know that parents are instructed to first put on their own oxygen mask before attempting to help your child put theirs on.  It does seem selfish somehow, or counterintuitive.  But it is wise advice.  If you lose consciousness, who then is left to help your child?

The same is true for living with a depressed child.  But instead of needing oxygen to breathe, we just need to remove ourself from the radioactive depression fallout.  To breathe fresh air without depression polluting our air.

For me, it is the hardest thing to do.  My son is an adult, quite capable of managing and mostly caring for himself.  But dare I go away for a weekend? What if he forgets to eat, or decides that the effort of going into the kitchen and preparing something and then eating it is overwhelming?  What if he suddenly comes out of his room and needs to talk it out and I'm not there? What if something happens and he plunges down to suicidal depths? 

I stand before you as the parent who did not put her own oxygen mask on first.  After that scary phone call from the mental health facility, I became afraid to leave my son alone.  Which, in hindsight sounds almost comical, given that he never leaves his bedroom and is in there alone with the door always closed.

His depression affects me profoundly and deeply.  Depression fallout, indeed.  It's radioactive.  I began to realize that days would pass and I hadn't showered or left the house, choosing to work quietly in my home office, trying to get my human contact from Facebook.  My weight got out of hand as I would wander in the kitchen and mindlessly find some pleasurable stimulation in a bag of chips or a plate of homemade nachos.  I was staying up later and later watching mind-numbingly stupid television shows, and so I was sleeping later.

What a fun gal I am!  My husband is a saint.

And when son leaves his room?  He sees me, unshowered, sitting in a strange mix of clothing that I affectionately call my "clown suit."  Sweats with a T-shirt that doesn't go, and socks that don't match either the shirt or the sweats, my way-old Birkenstocks.  Dull eyes meet dull eyes, and I assure you, I am not helping him a single bit.

We need lifelines, you and I.  Oxygen masks for us first so we can help our child put theirs on.

I hope you are praying for your depressive.  Begin by praying first for yourself.  That is number one on our list of lifelines.

The non-negotiables:

1.  Pray for yourself.  Ask God to help you trust Him to work in your loved one's life.  Our Heavenly Father is a much better and stronger God than you and I could ever be.   Release your loved one into His hands.  Pray for God's protection over your own mind.

2.  Read your Bible every day.  If you don't know where to start, there are plenty of reading plans and word studies online you can begin with.  Just Google it. I  hope to post later on some helpful hints for personal Bible study, journaling, and prayer time.

3.  Get out of the house every day.   Take the time to breathe air that is not polluted by radioactive depression fallout.  Even if it is to walk the dog, plant flowers in a flower box on your porch, watch the squirrels, go to the gas station to put gas in your car. 

Negotiables, pick and choose:

4. Join something that requires your repeated involvement and attendance.  It could be a weekly Bible study group, a yoga class, a twice-a-month support group, Weight Watchers, a mall-walking club.  Bible study groups are free, support groups are free, walking clubs are free if you cannot afford any kind of group with a membership charge.

5.  Treat yourself from time to time.  Depending on your financial situation, you may have to skim from your grocery list.  Try generic diapers a couple of times and pocket the savings.  Use a coupon and pocket the savings.   Try a meatless dinner or packing your lunch to carry to work so that you have a little splurge money.  Groupon frequently has offers for mani/pedi services.  Go to a coffee shop and get a cup of gourmet coffee and people watch.

6.  Find a support group that specializes in helping families of mental illness.  I was delighted to discover that NAMI has support meetings twice a month that meet right down the street from me.  Hubby does not care to go, but I must.  I can't wait to go to my first meeting.

7.  Find a confidante who is not living under the same roof with you and your depressive.  Fresh perspective is valuable.

8.  Sing! Download praise music with a lively beat and walk around the block.  If you don't have an iPod, most phones now days have the ability to play music.  Or turn up your car radio and go for a drive.

9.  Paint your bedroom.  Or living room.  Or your kitchen counters.

10.Volunteer at an animal shelter or nursing home.

The possibilities are endless.

It's not selfish to care for yourself.   You're no help to your loved one if you're incapacitated. 

Even Paul instructed Timothy to take care of himself:

Stop drinking only water, and use a little wine because of your stomach and your frequent illnesses.  1 Timothy 5:23

Depression - Can it be contagious?

The sight of his closed bedroom door ties my stomach in knots and I feel the weight of the world almost physically press my shoulders down.  I confess that most days, my mood and my outlook on life seem to mirror his.  Oh, how I have prayed for this child!  And yet, my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.

I strain my ears in an attempt to discern what he could be possibly doing in there after so many hours.   The door stays closed.  I wonder, if I lay down on the floor, will I be able to discern if there's even a light on in there?

Some days,  through that closed door, I can hear a low murmur of him talking on the phone and his voice sounds pleasantly normal.  I wish I could hear who he is talking to and what he is saying.  But I feel hope soar, a tenuous smile curves my lips, and there is a lightness to my steps.

Some days, I hear the rapid-fire tapping of his keyboard, and I know he is working.  I thank God for this age of technology where people can work from home using computer and internet and never have to go to the office.   At least he is doing something productive and learning life skills.

But then there's the day like today.  No sound comes from the inner sanctum.  No light.  Is he sleeping?  Is he staring at the wall?  After hours pass, I get bold enough to knock on the door.  I really could use his help.  When he responds, I can tell he has not been sleeping.  I open the door and discover him at his standing desk, playing a computer game.  In the dark.

It takes great effort to keep my despair from entering my voice  for him to hear.  Lend a hand? I ask, and he nods.  I explain.  He nods.  No words.

He moves through the house, silently, like a wraith, a ghost inhabiting my house.  He does as he is asked, and just as wordlessly, returns to his room.  Wait, I say.  He responds with a slightly raised eyebrow.  I continue:  open your blinds, the sun is shining.  And please, leave your door open for a while so you can hear me if I call you.  He does as I ask, but still without words.

A slow dull ache starts in my head.  Tears prickle behind my eyes.   A deep fatigue overwhelms my body, mind, and spirit.  I am so tired, I just cannot go on.

Yes, I think.  This depression, this evil illness, it is contagious.