Don't Look Away

From The Telegraph

Friends, we forget so quickly. We would rather waste time on the internet, play games on our phones, have political fights on Facebook. 

What is it that's keeping you from saying a prayer, or writing your congressman? What's keeping us from fighting the evil in our own hearts, and from standing up for those who are victims? 

I have been convicted by two things I've read this week. The first is a piece by Samantha at Defeating the Dragons about Ferguson (remember that?). This is a problem in our own backyard, and she exhorts us to make personal changes, to consciously chose justice over racism at every opportunity. 

The second is a piece by Julie at These Walls. She discusses the source of the evil that we see in ISIL, in Ferguson, in Central America, in the Ukraine, and how it infects us in many ways. She reminds us to stop looking away. 

My personal commitment is to use my writing. To write to my congressmen, to write letters to the editor, to write on this blog, to submit a writing to my church's newsletter. I have more time than many of you because I don't have children. It would be a shame to let that time go to waste. 

Please consider what you can do personally, even if it's just thoughts and prayers. Pray that God will show you something you can do (a scary prayer!)

Here is some information on ISIL (very preliminary)

From CNN: a timeline and other quick facts 

From BBC: Why is ISIL so violent? Some facts on its dogma

From Huffpost: a link to 11 free documentaries

Soundtracks for seasons

One reason I joined the Episcopal church was to participate in a rhythm of faith: Advent, Christmas, Epiphany, Lent, Easter, Pentecost. It makes sense to worship in a rhythm because we humans do almost everything in rhythms. We celebrate birthdays and the New Year and the Beginning of School and spring because they are new beginnings. We happily set off firecrackers every Fourth of July, carve pumpkins every Halloween, roast turkeys every Thanksgiving, decorate trees and hang up stockings at Christmas. We all need liturgy and rhythm and tradition, no matter our religion. It made sense, though, to recognize this human need at church as well.

In addition to the church year and the secular holiday calendar, I find myself listening to different music cyclically, based on the seasons. Come fall, I always turn on the Cranberries. Don't know why, it's a thing. Today I found Linger stuck in my head, and it occurred to me that it's September, even if Savannah's still hot and humid. 

Fall in general has me nostalgic, and something about the 90s feels cold.  Maybe it was all those denim jackets? There's something particularly aching about the Cranberries that seems autumnal. 

This is one of my favorites. Don't you love the opening scene where she pops the CD in the walkman? 

Abortion and "The Health of the Mother," in scare quotes

I have never been in a crisis pregnancy - or in any pregnancy. For physical reasons it's unlikely to happen any time soon, and I ache for a child. Holding a baby is a spiritual experience these days. Seeing a toddler at the grocery store makes me giddy or depressed, sometimes to be point of sobbing. My friends talk of "the horror" of being saddled with pregnancy, of being "tied down" to a child, and I never know what to say. When my twenty-something co-workers talked about children, it was as if they were discussing a flesh-eating bacteria that must be kept at bay. When I said that I would be happy with "even more than" four children some day, it was as if I had sprouted large antennae.

However, the thought of pregnancy also fills me with dread: I am a woman with severe mental illness, whose equilibrium is largely dependent on medication. This medication is not compatible with pregnancy or breastfeeding. I also think of my childhood. My mom is/was depressed and, though she was never suicidal, it obviously impacted my life in dramatic ways. I worry about the effect on our children. Moreover, my husband already carries the burden of my health and the stress of never knowing when I'll crack again. To put it mildly, getting pregnant right now would be devastating. 

At the same time, I am also fiercely pro-life - the very idea of killing my own baby makes me physically ill. Almost every day something reminds me of the fact that in our country it is legal to kill developing babies, even those capable of feeling pain, even those viable outside the womb. The tragedy of this cannot be overstated: it is our genocide. The weight of slaughtered infants grows every day, and yet there are people I know and love who don't even see the problem.

That's why it fills me with rage when Republican politicians mock the problem of pregnancy and mental health, or when McCain put air quotes around "the health of the mother." The problem, apparently, is that "the health of the mother" can include mental health, and therefore we can't use the health of the mother as an exception to possible abortion bans.

What many people don't realize is that mental illness is fatal if left untreated. Most medications are incompatible with pregnancy, which means that a depressed woman in a crisis pregnancy situation has the rug jerked out from under her in more ways than one. The risk of suicide - of the deaths of BOTH the mother and child - is huge.

Does this mean that I think abortion is the solution? No, I don't. Our culture of death looks to abortion as the quick solution to our ills, and we can do better. Women need mental health care in addition to obstetrics. We need to find alternatives to medicines during pregnancy that don't leave women in the lurch. It's not fair to expect women to chose between themselves and their unborn child.

At the same time, I don't believe in mocking the plight of women in this terrible situation. If you don't care about the health of the mother, then you're not pro-life. Stop pretending to represent us. Start putting your money where your mouth is and actually listen to those who deal with these issues. Listen to those who struggle with suicide, to mothers who put their own lives on the line for their children every day. Get the fuck off your pedestal and stop pretending you have even a clue what you're talking about.

7 Quick Takes: Depression and Robin Williams

1

My husband is a curate at an Episcopal church. As part of his job, he was looking through a pre-marital counseling article which advised couples to be wary of "fairy-tale syndrome." Trials and tribulations will come and test the merits of the marriage. Trials like... the wife having a weird laugh.

Excuse me while I laugh/ cry hysterically.

OK, can you think of anything less helpful for an engaged couple? If your wife's "weird laugh" is threatening the marriage, you need to reconsider life in general. God forbid you have a real crisis, or even the flu.

2

News events have been on my mind, and on everyone's mind, constantly. Between ISIS (or is it just ISI now?), Ferguson, US/Mexico border issues, Ebola, the Ukraine, Gaza -  what else am I missing, folks? - I've started avoiding the news most days. I guess this is wrong, and I do check on Iraq updates and send up prayers whenever I remember, but despair comes over me every time I do any in-depth searching. 

3

And then there's Robin Williams. Everything has been said that can be said, but tears start in my eyes when I contrast the joy he brought the world and the despair that devoured him. Depression is a real disease, which left untreated is FATAL. My one hope in all this is that his tragic death will wake up those who see behavioral health care as "optional." 

4

My own mental illness is wreaking havoc. It's like having a monster eat at your brain, taking away your personality, your energy, everything that makes you you. I struggle to know what is the disease and what is me, or even what are sins and what is the disease. It's easy to blame everything on myself, but it's also easy to blame it all on the disease. 

On a related note, I have yet to find a confessor in Savannah. There are so many conflicts of interest because of my husband's job, so even with the confidentiality oath I would feel uncomfortable. But of course, if it was a real priority I would have found someone already, so.... 

Pray for me.

5

Sometimes the little things in life save us. For instance, did you ever notice how pretty the inside of a red onion is?  

I was slicing produce for a salad last night and marveled at the beauty of red onion, deep-red Southern tomatoes, golden Georgia peaches, and bright-orange pepper. It's so nice to have real tomatoes and peaches again; I've been eating heirloom tomatoes like apples. 

6

Different things keep different folks from committing suicide. For me, the self-despair is too great to appeal to right to life or self-worth, unless I'm feeling well enough to NOT be tempted to suicide. What helps me is thinking about the good but simple things in life. I may not think my own self is worth much, but I can think to myself of ice water in the August heat, good-smelling soap, warm clothes from the dryer. Sometimes something that small will bring me off the edge. 

7

As a tribute to life, and a prayer for all who suffer from depression, here is a video of Robin Williams interacting with the famous gorilla Koko. 

To Jesus Through Mary

Mary is always looking out for me. How else can I explain that I had no plans of going to Mass today, but found myself following my husband's advice to attend an evening service, where the feast of the assumption was being celebrated?

The church was so quiet, full of incense. It was everything my soul needed.

Hail Holy Queen, Mother of mercy,
our life, our sweetness and our hope.
To Thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve,
To Thee do we send forth our sighs,
Mourning and weeping in this vale of tears.

Turn, then, most gracious Advocate,
Thine eyes of mercy towards us.
And after this our exile,
Show unto us the blessed fruit of Thy womb, Jesus.
O clement, O loving,
O sweet Virgin Mary.

Pray for us, O holy Mother of God,
That we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.


As I walked up the aisle, I noticed a sign over the crucifix. It said "For God so loved the world."

I managed not to break down crying until I reached the pew again. It struck me in a way it never did as a child. I felt almost resentful, then, because Jesus' sufferings were thrust up in our faces whenever we doubted. How can you do that after all that Jesus did for you? It was the ultimate guilt trip. It meant that Jesus was tortured to satisfy the Father's wrath so that I could go to heaven. It felt so remote and cold to me then.

Now I see it so differently. Now I see a God who saw His creatures in pain, saw their hurt and agony and fears, knew that without the greatest sacrifice He would never be trusted. He suffered for our peace, to hold out his hands with the nails and say look, feel the prints, you can trust me. Rest in me, abide in me, you are safe my child.

Those images of suffering are not a guilt trip anymore. They are assurance of His love, assurance of His tender care for us. My mother knew what I needed to see before I could believe it.

7 Quick Takes: What I've Learned in Group Therapy

1

While recovering from mental illness (which means learning to manage it, as opposed to hunting for a non-existent cure), I'm attending group therapy 5 days a week. It's been awesome, and I highly recommend it, though most people would only do a once a week deal. Some of what we've learned is so obvious, and yet some of it goes against everything I used to think. For instance....

2

Self-esteem is a good thing. 

Self-esteem is one of those words that I used to mock. Only the feel-gooders, the liberals, the secularists wanted self-esteem. Self-esteem was what kids had when all participants got trophies. Self-esteem was what fueled adolescent rebellion and disrespect. In my fundy days, self-esteem was equated with arrogance. 

My Calvinist background was especially derisive. After all, we knew that all humans were scum, that our good works were "as filthy rags," and that God Himself could only stand to look at us dirtwads if Jesus' righteousness was covering us. Turns out that self-esteem is simply how one estimates one's worth. Turns out that a Calvinist background doesn't help you when you're predisposed to suicide. Other folks (I'm guessing) can hit that old depression monster in the teeth when he says you're worthless and need to die already. They can say naw man, I have worth as a human being, even with all my mistakes. Calvinism jerks that rug right out from under you. 

What I'm trying to learn is that simply by virtue of being a person, I have worth. It is hypocritical of me to tell others that they have worth and a right to life and then turn around and deny it of myself. Self-esteem says nope, you're human too, and being human is OK. 

3

You are not the depression 

Another "duh" statement that nevertheless eluded me. When you're depressed, it envelopes you, takes over your life, and before long you can't even find yourself in the mix. Your interests, hobbies, skills, energies, faith - poof! gone. It helps to personify the mental illness. Give it a name even. My depression is Bob Loblaw (from Arrested Development) and the PTSD is Nelly, as in Nervous Nelly. I'm Caroline, not Bob or Nelly. Bob may want to hide indoors all day looking at blogs, and Nelly may intensify that desire because it's "safe," but Caroline would rather go out tonight. 

4

Past, future, and "should have" are not reality

CS Lewis talked about eternity in one of his books (I apologize, I can't remember which). He describes living in the present as "dipping your toe into the river of eternity." That's the idea: eternity is real; the present is real. The past has already happened, can't nothing change that. The future isn't even here yet, and who even knows if you'll be living. "Should have" is the most insidious of all, the most deadening thought you can have. It's not real, so don't even entertain those thoughts and regrets. Speaking of the past.... 

5

What happened to me is not my fault, but my present is 100% my responsibility 

I didn't deserve the things that happened to me in the past. However, if I live in misery today it's no one's fault but my own. That may sound harsh, but what's the alternative? To give authority to people in my past? To hand over my soul to those who have hurt me? No thanks. 

6

I judge others based on my own past mistakes 

Thanks to my awesome group therapist, here's what I learned about myself this week. The reason why I fear abandonment so much is that in my past, I have poured myself into people that were needy. Then, when I got resentful (because I stopped taking care of myself) I dropped them like hot potatoes. Therefore, I go around expecting others to drop me the minute I get too needy, because I expect that others will similarly take care of me without taking care of themselves until they get sick of me. Boy did that explain a lot. 

7

I'm grateful for the PTSD

Not for the depression - I'm not quite there yet. But without the PTSD, without the panic attacks and irrationality and dissociating episodes, I wouldn't have gotten the help I need. I would just drag myself along with depression, existing but not really living. The depression alone didn't push me, didn't provide the consequences that the PTSD did. So thank you anxiety, you done good in spite of yourself. 

Have you been through mental illness or group therapy? What have you learned in the experience? 

When "The World" is better than "the Church"

I wish I didn't have to write this post. Truly. I wish that my experience was so singular that no one could relate, that everyone else felt truly at home in a Christian setting.

Say yes if the following fits your experience:

1. You ask for "silent" or "unspoken" prayer requests/ intentions because you worry that your prayer group will gossip about them

2. You have received more empathy and compassion about mental health issues from "secular heathens" than you have from Christians

3. You have endured or witnessed bullies in church environments who were either ignored or encouraged by leadership

4. Those bullies were the leadership

5. You have a "church smile"

6. You have been to revivals or discipleship events or camps or retreats which acknowledged these realities, but when the emotions died down nothing changed

7. You feel shame about your lack of Christian friends, afraid that you're not good enough for that ever-elusive fellowship, afraid that your spiritual life suffers as a result

8. You feel extra shame if you are perfectly able to find friends outside of church/ Christian settings


Here is the typical response to this problem: well, the church is full of sinful people. What do you expect? When people get in groups you naturally get gossip and infighting and favorites.

Friends, are you as tired of that excuse as I am?

Here's why that reason isn't good enough: because I've had better friends and support in non-Christian environments, almost without exception, than I have in Christian ones. Those groups were also filled with people, non-perfect people who make lots of mistakes. And yet, the fellowship was better. Those friendships were made without the fear, perfectionism, and one-upmanship that plagues most Christian groups. Not to say life was perfect, because of course not. However, most of my truly supportive friends are not "believers." They aren't crazy heathens - they are law-abiding citizens who make plenty of mistakes but try their darndest to live peacefully with others. But they also are not Christians, or they are burned Christians who keep their distance from religious organizations.

What's the answer? I don't know. I'm struggling with church locally, for reasons too private to put online, but I'm also struggling with church in general. There is only one thing that I can do, and it's one of the hardest things to do.

I can be honest. I can refuse to put on the church smile. I can tell anyone who asks how I'm doing that I'm battling depression. I can be honest about my recent sojourn in a mental hospital.

If we aren't honest about our real selves, the problem will persist. As someone whose husband is working for a church full-time, whose life is wrapped up in things related to "church," that's not a viable option for me. At bottom, I'm simply tired of hiding.

Friends, let's stop hiding. As long as we hide, nothing will ever get better. And if we reveal our true selves and are still disliked... Then we make friends with those on the outside, like we always did. At the end of the day, we are responsible for living authentic lives, not for how others talked about our truth.