To blog or not to blog, that is the question...would someone as famous as Walt Whitman in today's world have become the exquisite writer that he was if his medium were the wonderful world of web? With rejection being almost instantaneous as the writing itself, would he have become disillusioned with the process and thus meandered through life being a copy writer for some indiscreet newspaper? We will obviously never really know, but as anyone who attempts to write in this digital age knows, competition screams at a voluminous pace with the click of a mouse. By the time I have finished this sentence, easily ten writers have just submitted their writings somewhere in the cyber-connected world to someone else who will probably have an 'in-basket' with hundreds of other wannabe writers. Time has shrunk, and being the enemy of all who must be seen, it becomes a nastier foe. How will my writings ever be given the light of day? I am not John-boy Walton who has my own television series where I get to showcase my thoughts on the Depression and growing up on Walton's Mountain. I believe there are those who still write the old-fashioned way, with pen and paper...but to what end? Maybe for creativity sake, but we are now limited to the Orwellian idea of having big brother peruse it first via the NSA. We are relegated to use the 0's and 1's methodology. Can such a creative tome like War and Peace ever come out of an IPAD? Some say this is an unlikely case, but then again John-boy never thought he'd make it off Walton's Mountain did he?

What Next, Lord?

        In an off-beat way, this question enters most people’s mind AT least once in his or her lifetime. I know it has mine, AT least once a week for a long time now.  I daresay that even those who have no real conviction in a supreme being instinctively espouse some type of expletive before saying ‘what next’. Although the ‘Lord’ may not always follow, it is implied by the mystic question itself.

        In my life, I believe that the future ahead is as scary as NO future ahead.  In the realm of the unknown, those who deny any anxiety are either lying or have no plans to be in the future.  The moments ebb and flow in my life where I am not all to certain that my mind is not playing tricks on me. In one moment’s time, I will feel more serene and complete than ever, and then in the next nanosecond, the synaptic neurons pour forth bleak images that give off the odor of dread and fear.

        To live in this life cycle on a 24hr basis, seven days a week is commonly referred to as living with depression/anxiety.  The pharmaceutical world loves this reality as it has become a boon for their industry, to be the small savior to those of us who are entrapped by this condition.  I often wonder what manner of trial and error must be used and what human guinea pigs must go through to make these little wonders FDA approved!

        What, you might ask, constitutes being ‘depressed’ and how do we know that not everyone is depressed and only the rest of the world is just not ‘normal’ because they are NOT depressed.   This is a fair question these days.  We must be honest, as one reads the newspapers or clicks through the Internet, surfs the TV channels; the abundance of crappy news is everywhere.  Libya, gas prices, government shutdown, deficits, unemployment, high food prices, war everywhere!  

        What to make of it all?  The end is coming soon?  Is the proverbial writing on the wall?  Many a book and Hollywood directors think so.  Evangelicals scream Revelation and Armageddon in one breath and tout only 499 will be saved.   The beginning of the world was complex, and so too I believe will be the ending as well.

        The only thing I do know is that I DO NOT KNOW….and I think that is what is at the crux of my extreme blues.  My faith has been tested in many ways throughout my life. Ranging from 2 friends suicides to losing jobs, I have felt that God is either really ticked off at me for my past discretions and is trying to say something to me, or he is severely testing my Job-like essence.  Possibly both.

         I have heard that God will not give you more than you can handle. In the world of roller-coaster emotions, this is NOT always a reassuring point.  I must admit that if Christ said, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me” and He was His son, then I do not hold out in having more faith than that.  

        I have faith and I KNOW that in terms of things to be worried about, my problems are negligible. To the normal thinking brain, that is the case.  My brain is not normal. I see pink elephants all over the place when the roller-coaster ride begins!! Anxiety in hyper-drive kicks the shit out of you and you truly feel as though you have just run a mile.  In my case that would be a good thing, except I get none of the truly physical benefits of this crazy ass ride.  Instead, sleep-deprivation, appetite loss, and simple daily pleasures seem to elude me in these ‘fun’ times.

        That being said, I do have a sense of being closer to Christ in my hours of suffering.  Somehow I see that His suffering, although 100 times more excruciating than mine, and my suffering cleanses the spirit and makes me see God closer. Believe it or not, I do thank God for allowing me to take the suffering I have and make good use of it.  For a long time I prayed that I would NOT suffer anymore, that it is ruining my life.  I felt that I could not handle the day to day grind that it was putting on me. I am no sadist who actually enjoys the tumult, but I do see that this condition does have its’ positives.

        The mind is amazing in its function.  The space between the ears can be very dualistic in its nature, i.e. the good with the bad.  Fatigue drains here first before the body ever knows what is happening.  I understand and can appreciate that everyone goes through this process to some extent.  My tenure in this phase seems to be unending.  Misery loves company was invented for this very reason.  Somehow I have never really been neither comfortable nor taken solace in this belief.  I am almost certain neither did those on the Titanic.  Nor do I find it particularly promising in easing my pain.  The fact that I could have a much harsher life than the one I have now, is true.  My life has been in many ways, one I do not deserve.

        In depression, there is obviously a disconnect between reality and perception.  The one becomes the other.  It’s interesting how my reality in the future appears bleak for me personally and for the world.  This is how depression works insidiously so that you have very ominous and foreboding moments in your thought processes.  I wish I could feel differently.  Maybe this is God’s way of showing the path that He wills.  I do not have to go down His path if I do not want to, and many times I feel confused as to whether I should.  

        In the depressed mind, there looms the specter of negative thoughts.  Now, one could say, ‘why not just say positive things to help overcome the negative thoughts?’  The obvious is not so obvious.  I wish it were true.  I have tried and at times it does work.  However, think of the mind like you would any muscle and after a time of concentrated effort, you grow weak and tired.  I take medicine to help the synapses in the brain to work double-time.  

        I find myself drinking coffee by the gallon and if I could take it intravenously I would.  By 2:00 in the afternoon, I find myself wanting toothpicks in the eyes to stay awake.   The spry youthful morning me is replaced with the ‘I just wanna take a nap’ me.  I start to count the hours before I can put my head on a pillow and literally sleep away my depression or my life or both!

        It is not something I am proud of and I hate to admit it, but I do feel, often, defeated.  As Padre Pio  once wrote, “I am in darkness, I see no light…God has abandoned me I fear”.    I know that God has not abandoned me, but He certainly is giving my soul calluses.  Hopefully this conditioning of my will, will give me the stamina to go one more day again.

                

Clouds

        The spring-time brings a glimmer of hope to those in dark days of depression.  I know that I do feel much better when the days are sunny and warm.  I enjoy putting my face into thesun and feeling God’s wonderful rays beating down on my balding head!

        As spring usually brings the rain, it reminds me of the idea of how clouds can form in our lives that bring with them a downpour of unexpected events.  Death through suicides, friends not being friends anymore, unemployment and lives forever changed in the process.

        The mix bag of ‘unfortunate’ scenes in my life, I am sure, are to be pathways to a stronger me…I guess.  Sometimes (a lot of the times) I have a hard time accepting this theorem. I have to keep reminding myself that when times are rough, I have to look to Christ for my comfort.  I try and pray that the cup of crap, as I call it, pass over me, but not my will be done but His….

        The antidote to one’s depression can surely not be found in reading the newspaper, surfing the Internet or watching cable news.  I have become what I had hoped not to be, a cynic.  Our country, in this 2013th year of our Lord, is everything I am sure God wants it NOT to be.  Hedonistic, materialistic, monolithic, and slowly atheistic! If only more people knew their bible history.  The story of Sodom and Gomorrah should be a clanging warning bell to all who have ears. Alas, it is not.  I sometimes feel that the only part I can play in this huge mistake is that my prayers for a miracle can reach God’s ears and that somehow I can pay atonement for the U.S. bad deeds.  If only that were true!  

I wonder if I have the guts to take one for the team.  Can I make a deal with the Big Guy and say hey, give me the constant sludge of depression, the nagging and persistent drone of anxiety and all the fun that goes with it. In return, you oh Great One, will help this country return to its glory by chaffing the shit wheat from the good wheat here on earth.  

Or will it take the seismic shift of heaven to slap the face of this country by means of war and pestilence to wake it up to its responsibility for pissing off God?  I fear that this is the only option that we have left on the table. I look at the news from around the world and I see God frowning. I see only despair in the eyes of those who have been interviewed after a tornado rips through one’s house. How did we get here!?  Can I do ANYTHING in my meager existence to shape our future? Do my prayers mean anything in the scope of it all? I pray as though it was up to me and I do it not out of unmitigated gall but because it is the only thing I can think of doing.  My head spins when I think about my life and what purpose it serves here on earth. The age-old question that has been served up since the dawn of time is still as relevant today as it ever was.

Those Before Me

Depression is obviously not a new phenomenon.  Suffice to say that many historical figures probably dealt with the idiosyncrasies of this oft-called illness. Abraham Lincoln comes to my mind when I think about how others have dealt with their lot in life.  It is understood that his time in history was certainly a time for moods to be dampened.

In today ’s world, the undeniable dramatic news unfolds before us like a cheap dirty napkin…ugly, worn, and not what you expected from such a place. I thought as we advanced in years and in technology, our society would get a little smarter. It appears we have only placated the ignorant and suppressed those who warned us about our foibles and downfall.

My wife has advised me not to watch Fox News anymore, and to limit my exposure to the Internet and its content.  Maybe if I wrapped myself up in bubble wrap and lay down on the couch for the rest of my life, I would not care what happens to the rest of the world.  I think God has other plans for me. Which brings me to current conundrum…. what does God want from me?

Those before me, who see the darkness as I see it, ask this age-old question as well.  God created man probably more ignorant than any other creatures He created.  Ignorant because we know not what we do not know.  That is to say, we are a simple creature, or at least I am a simple creature. Subtleties are lost on me, as I need clearly defined marching orders in life. I ask God that every day.

I suppose this ‘station’ in life represents the cross I must bear on my life’s journey. The true testing of one’s ability is to look down the road.  Sometimes I do not see any road, only a clump of dirt in which to try and hobble through.  My termination in my job has only left me feeling more alone than anything else. This economy has left millions without a job and that fact alone does not console any of those millions. Why should I be any different than those who have also felt the burden of being disposable?  We live in a disposable society and there are people who think that this is just the way it is. The way it is….what a state in life to be summarized in your  life’s work.  

In the world of the dark, the depressive mind seeks only to confirm itself and to render your thoughts to those things that only define your identity to the events that shape your existence. Hence, when you get bad news your mind and subconscious believe that this is what you deserve as a course of destiny. God seems to play the role of the master of your destiny and being the humble Catholic that I am, I believe that He is control and not me. I know many an atheist who would counter that only I am in control of what happens to me and that this ‘God’ that I speak of and pray to is only a crutch on which I hang my successes and failures.

Who is correct? I know that my heritage tells me that all will be, in the end, fine. My heart tells me that I put my trust in God and the rest will take care of itself. My logical mind tells me that I am open to the worst of what the world will dish out. The quintessential and age-old dilemma has now been set forth. Mind versus heart, gut versus reality. Am I strong enough to let one win and the other to subside? How do we determine the victor and the vanquished? God only knows. God only knows what will become of not only me but to all in this age. In an age that arguably is growing ever so steadily towards an implosion of the worst kind. We need Jesus to return now, and in doing so, will it be the end that we had hoped for? If He were to return now, would we be ready for the justice that He would met out to those who are here waiting? I fear not, as I know that I am not ready to end things as they are now. I want to be the person that His father as planned for me and I STILL do not know what that is….do I have the stamina to put forth the day to day fight in being a good person? Does anyone have the time to set him or herself straight and be the ideal person God has envisioned?

Those who suffer the pangs of depression like me, live in a fog of doubt and fear. This I know all too well. Anti-depressants and psychoanalysis goes only so far in dealing with the outer layer of the ‘disease’, but only a true miracle can transform one who is stuck in the cycle of dread. A miracle of the mind is the intangible golden egg that I seek, like Jack in the beanstalk. I want to grab it and run and live happy ever after. What would I do with that golden egg? I tell God I would be His servant and do whatever it is that He wants me to do.   My voice and pleas go unheard, or so I feel.

This is a writing to those who see themselves in this same game of life. I know much about this game. It has many losers and winners. I have seen the downfall with the suicides of two of my best friends. One lost his will to remain in a marriage of discontent and the other in a material world where only bottomless oceans of money could not save him. Neither of these mortals believed that the continuation of life was worth their effort. I ponder on their distorted views and I empathize with what they believe to be the answer. They left the game way to early to really know what could have been.

Those in depression, possibly like my two friends, feel the game is fixed so that they lose. However, if this game is a winner takes all competition, then the winner will be the one last standing, not laying down six feet under.

I know that I must remain in the fight, as tired and beaten as I feel. I look to Christ who suffered more than any human ever could have and now He is the winner of all time. I know that to compare oneself to Christ is wholly unthinkable, but He is not telling us to be Him, only to trust like He did. I look to him as my trainer in the depression war. I swallow a pill and believe that the human doctor who made it has my minds best interest and yet I know it is God’s hand that makes the pill work.

My purpose in this expose is to share not only my religious belief, but the belief that the trials of depression can be a good thing. I now know that my outlook on life is seen with a pair of glasses that makes things more clearer, sometimes. Many times this clearer vision scares the hell out of me. Our task as depression prone people is to look past the obvious pains of the disease and to see the cleansing power of this obstacle. It can be our salvation; it can make you do things that you would otherwise not do. The goal is to go outside of yourself and your turmoil and see that others need your assistance. This is what I think the God of my faith wants of me.

Funny how strong the male ego can be at times and yet in less time than it takes to blink it can dance into a petrifying stupor. It is amazing that the human mind can be so elastic and human endurance to this elasticity remains intact.  There are times I am so totally exhausted when I fight my depression, it is all I can do but to roll up in a ball and sleep for hours. I do not pray for nor wish death, but I do want a life that has some kind of meaning, which allows me the good fortune to say I have fought the good fight.

   In my present situation, that of being a very qualified teacher looking for a teaching position in today ’s economy, the ego is the first casualty in this war.  I have learned that one must absolutely resolve himself/herself to the fact that finding a good paying job in this defunct economy may not happen quickly,  if at all.  I have become disillusioned to the idea that hard work and playing by the rules guarantees you a safety net of employment. It does NOT~!  Ask the millions like me who get the pink slip simply because you are expendable.  My theory was that if I try and made myself indispensible in my present work, I would be safe from the chopping block.  I was wrong…hugely wrong.  Yes, people say you are a great worker, but you know what…that does not count for squat when the bottom line people say, “it’s the bottom line people!!  Someone has got to go!~”

Now you might be asking yourself, what has this to do with depression?! The way I have emoted my employment conundrum has exacerbated my depressive moods so much so that there are times at night I cannot sleep without the aid of sleeping pills.  During the day, while working at the job that I will soon be departing from, I have become so despondent that I have a difficult time keeping my mind on task to do the necessary work for the day.  In my mind I am doing ok if I am doing something.  Something is not anything unless it produces outcomes desired.  My desired outcome is to show my employer that I am a good worker….to what end will that work if my employer no longer has a need for me?  The vicious cycle begins and another day drones on.  What will tomorrow bring, more of the same or less of anything different?  

How the depressed mind works is based on the circle of one’s perceived reality. This reality may not be the reality that truly exist, but more of the depressed persons notions of time and space. In my mind I am sure that things are not always what they seem…however, I can not get over the feeling that either something bad is going to happen or has already happened. My wife calls me a ‘negative Nell’ which is probably true, but little does she know that up until recently, my gut feelings I thought were fairly accurate.

There in lies the rub with my mind. Do I favor my feelings as something intuitive or is it the depression that creeps it’s way into my existence. From the time I was about 21 I have felt that I was never fully the person I wanted to be, afraid to become more positive and confident than I really was. My faith in my later years has helped me overcome this doubt and trepidation but at times I become so enthralled in my own dilemma that I have a hard time feeling any happiness.

I wish I knew what the heart and mind connection is when depression is mixed in the recipe.  Does God use this type of ‘cross’ to motivate or is this the work of the evil one trying to curtail my religious belief?  If you are prone to the atheistic mindset, then you would dismiss most of what I am saying in this writing. My pen writes from only one presupposition and that is that there is a God and He has plans for all of us. Many a time we do not even know this plan nor shall I say do we even like it. Many a time those of us who have strong faith beliefs feel that what we have happen to us, both good and bad, is justice meted out by God in accordance to our actions. The Buddhist call this karma, or what goes around comes around. Do something unethical or sinful and we reap what we sow. Do something good and parenthetically good things will fall upon you. Is this the way it works? I keep thinking about all the miscreants in this world and wonder if that philosophy holds any water.  Evil people continue to do evil things with no apparent recourse or justice given. The old adage ‘justice in the next life’ does very little in the consoling those who of us who try and live good lives.

I cant help but think that my life in all of it’s wonderful gifts that I have been given were rewards from God. Consequently, all of the unfortunate incidents were a result of my past grievances towards either my fellow man or even myself. In my depressive state this is all I can produce in my mind. Why do I follow this line of thinking? Is this normal or is it part and parcel of the state of the depression. Obviously, when we who live in this psychological state of mind, ponder on our circumstances, we do so with blinders on to only one way of rationalizing. It does not take a brain surgeon to understand this convoluted reasoning. However, in depression there are no guidelines that you follow that allows for any other conclusion. This is how it appears and the reality is hidden to the point of being a mere suggestion that is quickly dismissed.

What does Religion Got to Do with it?

The wonderful world of the 21st century has much to offer on the order of pharmaceutical drugs.  You have a headache and you take aspirin, you have a cough and you take cough syrup. You have a psychological problem, and if severe enough, your doctor prescribes Zoloft, Lexapro, or Cymbalta. Presto, you are cured!

For those of us who have the misfortunate diagnosis of depression we like to think that if we swallow that daily pill, life we be normal. It can never be. In my experiences with my prescription, I know that without my ‘happy’ pill, life would be much more difficult to say the least. But I am not cured. I will never live a life outside of that little brown bottle. Sometimes I believe that I am a slave to not only that prescription, but I am a slave to my own worst habits of finding anything that will assist me in my mood of depression. It used to be alcohol and tobacco. Things that would momentarily give me some relief from the dreaded feelings of being stressed to the point of breaking down and crying all day long.

The masculine and macho side of me never wants to let my emotions get the best of me in front of those who I work with and teach. Many a time my anxiety (a nice additive to my depression) is so strong that I am momentarily catatonic.  So what does one do who is beholden to a feeling or thought that unnerves you to the point of dread and fear. Many self-help books will tell you that therapy with a shrink will help and that will bring about what they think is causing your depression. The theories are many, ranging from your childhood days to that of being a simple chemical deficiency in your brain….or quite likely both or a myriad of other situations that can deplete your normal thought processes.

I know in my own situation, my life was ‘normal’ in the sense that I had no real experience with depression until my life stresses caught me totally unprepared for how I was to deal with things out of my control. In my earlier teaching career I took home all of my troubles from dealing with students who should have been locked up and kept it all bottled up to the point of near and total breakdown. This is when my first anxiety attack occurred and I was oblivious to the whole idea of what depression even was. I had no inclination that my life was to be altered that evening when I awoke from a dream sweating profusely and being completely tormented to who I even was. I awoke to whole other person that questioned everything about myself. Who I was, what I was as a father, husband, teacher…man. Everything spun out of control and I had no idea why….I felt as if I awoke into another planet or dimension that was foreign to me and my earlier life. This is when it all started and I have never been the same since.

In truth, my faith life began and my selfish life entered into it’s last stage. You see, it is from there that I began to see my life…any life, as one where the consummation of one’s own troubles will either eat you alive or make one see the light.  In depression, your whole existence is tied to HOW you feel about yourself. Your whole modus operandi becomes so self-serving that you will do anything, try anything to make it all go away. Believe, I have tried that angle for many years before it hit me like a sledge-hammer.  The self-absorbing and or self-loathing creates a mindset that YOU are in control of all that you are in this world. One begins to believe that YOU are all that matters in your depression and only YOU have the power to overcome it. Just read any pop-cultured self-help book on depression and that is what it will tell you. Take your medicine, talk to a therapist and you will control your own destiny.

In this secular society that is what real men and women are supposed to do. Now I am not advocating that these things are not good for you. Indeed they are…but they are only a part of the answer. You see it is the part of depressive life that makes you seek outside help in overcoming your demons. I tried for many years to be a ‘man’ about my depression and do all the things that I am supposed to do…take my meds, keep positive thought journals, do a lot of self-help talking…breath deeply and keep the mind active on positive and happy thoughts.

True enough, these things help. Yet, here I was, a 36 year old father of two and respectable teacher who would lay awake in the morning crying like a newborn. Unable to crawl out of bed and begin another day with anxiety and fear of being someone I was not. How could this keep happening when I was doing everything I KNEW to be the answer to ‘cure’ myself of this shackle of depression?

Here is the kicker, ladies and gentlemen…YOU will never completely overcome your state in life unless you do one more thing…and that is to forget about yourself. Forget about you, forget the idea that you ARE in control…let it go to the wayside like yesterdays garbage. Turn your whole mirror away from you and point it to the outside world. Swallow this pill…YOU are not in control, you never have been and you never will be.

Holy crap, what the hell is this guy saying? Is he totally nuts? Who does he think he is giving this kind of advice? Should a patient not ever see a doctor, and just let himself wish away his or her problems?

True enough, I am NOT an expert, nor have I ever claimed to be one. I can only speak from what I know. I know that taking my meds and talking to a professional are components of being a responsible human being who truly needs the expertise of those who dwell in the area of mental illness. I would never advocate that one can totally dismiss the secular world’s assistance in fighting mental ailments. The pharmaceutical companies abroad have done wonders in helping those who suffer from depression. There is no argument here for that solution. However, there is more…and I know there is more because I have lived it.

You have noticed I am sure, that my references to the secular have a particular meaning. Yes, I am one of those…a person who looks above science and technology and sees the intangible hand of a Creator. OH NO! Not one of those loony Christians who will not give their child a blood transfusion and trust in God to help my child from dying. No, not quite.

It does not work this way, no matter what you may have heard. Yes, there are miracles that happen everyday I believe. However, I am not claiming that a miracle will happen to anyone who believes in God. Most assuredly this rarely occurs even to the staunchest of believers. If the Almighty worked it that way, what need would we have for any medical person? Just believe and voile your depression would be gone.

No, just read about any person of faith who is known to be a real historical figure and you will see that their lives were never made easy. Mother Theresa of Calcutta is a great example of this. She was full of self-doubt and confusion. She often wrote about her days as dark as the night, her constant struggle with who she was as a person. She languished in a depressive like state and yet she continued to be a person who went above and beyond herself and her world.

Hey, that is Mother Theresa, you say…she is the exception and not the rule’. Maybe and maybe not. Look around this crazy world, how many of the people who inhabit this planet and do great things? More than you could ever count. Here is the surprising thing…I would bet my life’s savings (granted it is not much) that at LEAST 10 to 20 percent have what doctors would classify as ‘clinical depression.’  Statistically speaking, that is probably a low figure.  

What difference does all this make? Whether anyone realizes it or not, those who suffer from depression rarely do so in isolation. I would suggest that many do not even know they have some form of depression.  Most psychiatrist inform us, there are scores of people who have some form of depression and NEVER seek any type of treatment whatsoever.  I am aghast at these facts and figures. I know that in my state of being depressed, I am one who thinks that I could handle the rigors of being tormented, or at least I thought I could. I wonder what my persona would be like if I let myself be totally free of any type of either chemical or psychological help. Well, I do know how I would be, I would be a totally different person because I have tried to be an independent survivor with no assistance from anything or anybody. Let me tell you, it was not a pretty sight. I was not a fun person to be around and dare I say, I was not the person I should have been. I neglected my family and friends, my work and even myself. I was self-absorbed in my own little world where I would hide my feelings and drink, smoke, chew and basically deny that I had any difficulties.

It was only a matter of time before my condition became such a nuisance in my life that if I continued to be obstinate in my dealings with who I was becoming, then all that I treasured would be lost. My wife said as much when she confronted me with my behaviors. My constant need for sleep, my working in isolation, my wandering off in conversation and my absenteeism from my children’s lives was tearing at the fabric of a once happy domicile. Does any of this sound familiar?

What I described here is probably nothing out of the ordinary for a great many a people. I would not be as so bold to say that all of these types of people who run the gamut of what I have done are remotely depressed or shall I say ‘clinically depressed’. Sad to say that this type of personality is just what it is…a lifestyle many chose to live. Think about the types of people who are consistently ornery and who have no inclination to change their behaviors because others do not like them. I know many people like this, and they scare the hell out of me. Why? This personality trait is what suits them fine and by all logical accounts it simply works for them. Have you not ever met a person who treats others like a damp dish towel. Somehow these types of people seem to make it to the top of the business ladder and actually thrive once they get there. Their personality of being rude, bombastic and just plain mean dictates how they achieve their goals in this life. This is nothing new for humans, it has been happening since the dawn of time.  We call this part of the human condition.

So if this is part of the human condition, could it not be said that even depression is part of the human condition? I would suggest, to an extent, yes, depression is part and parcel of being a human. Everyone goes through at one time or another. We all have days when we do not feel like doing anything productive and we generally feel some type of malaise as we muddle through our earthy lives. Life becomes routine, boring and even tedious to say the least. This is simply a state that all people go through at one time or another.

The difference is that the depression that I speak of is much more than the common humdrums with must twaddle through. It does not take a Phd to know the difference between feeling the blues and the gut wrenching dichotomy of personality the clinically depress live day in and day out.

My own example is proof enough. I had/have a great life. A beautiful wife, two beautiful and well adjusted children. I have a job that I love with all of my being and a circle of family and friends that no one could ask more from in support and love. This was my happiness and yet there is a void that none of this could fill. I could not find in myself a joy that enabled me to live past my thoughts and feelings of helplessness and confusion. I rarely ever needed the constant self-awareness techniques that others used in times of trouble. I simply ignored the idea that I was unhappy and MADE myself think that I truly was a happy person. I had been such a good actor that for 4 yrs I fooled them all…my wife, kids, family and friends. I am the great pretender.

Or so I thought. I bet that those of you reading this, think that you have fooled many yourself.  Being an ace actor is something I am very good at doing. I have done it most of my adult life. Sure I can wear my emotions on my sleeve like anyone can when I want to get my point across, but when it comes to being hurt by someone I tend to make it appear that I am for only a brief time. Then I figure that it does no one any good being angry. The same holds true for my depression. I am the happy go lucky fella everyone loves at work. I am constantly goofing around with my co-workers not letting them see how at times I am a complete mess. I fear that my depressive state and my anxiety level, sometimes which incapacitates me, become noticeable to others. I remember times when it was all I could do just to get by one hour when I am in total shutdown mode. I have read where there are individuals who are so incapacitated with their depression that they can not go to work or even function in their daily lives. I have felt that way many times, but what I am able to do is keep myself going just enough to come home and slip away into the corner of my house and break down. My wife and kids have no idea that lately this has been my own inner hell. My current dilemma is that my job is being reduced and more than likely will be further reduced to me making McDonalds wages for what I do. The more frustrating part of it all is that there is a bleak employment forecast for teachers in my current area of expertise. I am deathly afraid that my job outlook will land me on the road to being one of the countless millions who will be without meaningful work in the near future.

I try telling myself that any employment is honorable and not to be intimidated by what the talking heads on TV blather about the national economy. Being a student of history I am well aware of where this country is headed economically speaking and it is a great cause for concern. In this modern world, your job becomes your life because without it you have no recourse to go out and simply find another good paying and gainful employment. What this does to the psyche of any individual, let alone one who suffers from depression, is devastating, especially if you are a white-male. This is not to say that others do not have the same trepidation that I feel, but sadly the fact remains that white-males are currently the demographic scapegoats for downsizing in most professional industries. I know that from my own personal experiences that I have been overlooked because I was not what the employer needed for their workforce. That is to say that I was not a minority. I say this with complete confidence and I make no apologies in saying so. This is my reality and it is because of this reality that I have more than enough concern about it that it keeps me awake at night.

I have been reading about the Depression of the United States during the 1930’s. The one thing that stands out in all of my reading is that during this time there were countless scores of men who one day had a job and the next day they did not. The suicide rate for males between the ages of 19 and 30 was astronomical during this time. My fear is that if the current trend in this country remains economically the pathway that it is headed, we may very well see another rise in this figure.

I know something about suicide. I am sure that anyone who has a severe case of depression knows something about suicide. In all honesty, I have never truly thought about suicide because I know first hand what it does to a family and all those connected to the individual who completes that task.  I could never put my family and friends through that ordeal again. I have had two close friends and have known others who did take their own lives and it is something that one never really overcomes. I think about these friends on a daily basis and I hurt.

Those in a clinical depressive state are more likely to commit suicide, but it is not axiomatic that one will commit suicide if one is clinically depressed. I am a case in point. So the question goes to point, why do some commit suicide who are clinically depressed and others like me have no intention of doing so? Conversely, why do those who are not categorized clinically depressed, like my friends, end up taking their own lives? It could be said that a professional who could determine that causation never saw these individuals. I am sure that there are thousands of suicides that were committed by people who. if they had been seen by a doctor, would have been diagnosed with clinical depression. Sadly enough we will never know that fact.

Back to my original question, which was why do some off themselves and others who are just as distraught do not? Fear of the unknown of what lies beyond the grave? Or is it something else like not wanting to put the family and friends through that turmoil. Like me, that is true, but in my case, it is something much more than that. I see suicide as an escape from one’s troubles and not facing the difficulties that lay ahead. There are times when I experience, and I am sure there are others who have felt the same way, a type of survivors guilt. Why have I not been so distraught as to take my own life and others who I know have? I certainly have known the anguish that COULD make me go that far, but I have never gone beyond the normal feeling of being suicidal. Why? Is it simply a matter of degree in that primordial state of mind?

It is here where I once again bring forth the religious and spiritual dimension of this challenging condition called depression. I know that the one thing that separates me from my friends who have committed suicide, and that is my faith. I know that if my two closest friends had confided in me their inclinations, I would have moved heaven and earth to show them that there is another way out of the suicidal pact. The ONLY way that can guarantee the salvation from going down that one way street is having FAITH in God and His plans for each and everyone of us.

Those who are agnostic or atheistic will stop reading this now and laugh at my conclusions. They do so at their own peril. I have no delusions that this cure is foolproof. If my thesis is in error, then paradoxically I would not be here. I too would have gone to the path of least resistance a long time ago.

My purpose here is to recommend to those of you who are in a place where we call it ‘depression’ or some other nefarious mental state, to at least be open to the idea that all that we are is but a blip on the screen of what we are to become.  The current state of any time in life is so transitional that all one need to do is play the game.  Yes, life is truly a game. Ask anyone who has gone through such horrific experiences such as those who were in a concentration camp.

As a student of history, I have read a plethora  of books dealing with the Holocaust and it’s affects on those who lived through it.  By far, the best book on this subject is by a man named Victor Frankl.  Here was a man who actually lived through this incredible ordeal and actually came away from this experience a BETTER person.  He claims, unbelievable as it mayseem , to be THANKFUL for having done so!

He writes in his book,  “Mans Search for Meaning”…

“A thought transfixed me: for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love.”

I recommend that those of you who have the inclination to read on a subject that obviously is very disturbing, do so for therapeutic exercise.  Frankl describes in many detailed ways, the inhumane treatment that was vetted to those in Auschwitz, Dachau and Treblinka concentration camps. Mind numbing examples of how the Nazis used their victims for experiments, labor and for their own sadistic pleasures.  Suffice to say, it was a time in which those who were there, would never be the same afterwards, if they lived.

   So, you might think, is this thing called ‘love’ the big panacea that will wipe away my depressive state?  Well, ‘love’ as I have shown through Victor Frank’s description is that type of love which he is describing as I understand it, is the type of ‘love’ one has for ALL those who we see as non-lovable. I think that could aptly apply to those of us who see their lives as one that may not have love abundantly.  I suggest more to point, the type of love which we call self-love.  

I know in my own experiences, I have had many moments where my self-love was deficient enough that I question my own self-worth, especially when I was let go in my teaching career. It is not so unusual for anyone to doubt themselves in this category when your life’s work is put on hold and your life’s calling is now in jeopardy.

Victor Frankl’s experiences (and others like him) have made me REALLY question my understanding of the meaning of life.  I have been given the ability to at least comprehend the oft quoted saying, “life is always greener on the other side of the fence”.   In reading his account of his life in the concentration camps, I have a better grip on what TRUE suffering is and paradoxically, what it is not.  

What this man went through and others like him, is nothing short of a miracle that he came out alive and mentally able to stand tall afterwards.  Here was a man who had it all before his incarceration and then within a week’s time was gasping and clinging to his very existence. The complete and utter destruction of his whole psyche was ambushed beyond what I would call human thought.

I do not want to give away his life story, for those of you interested in reading his book, Mans Search for Meaning” but I would like to put into context what this extraordinary man went through in the tumultuous years he survived the death camps.

Imagine….if you can…if you possibly can….being torn apart from your family, your friends, your job.

Sitting out here in the bleacher seats as I humbly call my existence sometimes, makes me comfortable in stating that I have not a clue when it comes to true suffering.  I think that suffering is something personal and different for each person. Universally speaking, those that went through what Frankl went through was truly nothing short of tremendous physical, emotional and psychological suffering.  So what is the hesitation on my part to identify myself with Frankl? Surely most of us can not even fathom the depths of despair that he went through.  Yet, is not suffering a plague that does not differentiate?

      As I sit here smoking a cigar and being at peace typing this blog, am I really suffering from anything that could even compare to Frankl. How is it that I can even contemplate my suffering to those who went through such an ordeal? The simple truth, is that I cannot. Nor can anyone else who suffers from depression. The 'suffering' or pain of depression is one that needs to be examined by all of us who think that this 'disease' is nothing more than an inconvenience. Yes, I said it, and I believe that with all my being. We know nothing about suffering compared to those who lives have been shattered in such a monolithic event as the holocaust. This is where I draw the line on my pity party.

     There are those who have had many tragic events in their lives...the  lost of a loved one....the dependency on drugs....the failure of a marriage...the denial of love from another...I could go on and on....but in the scheme of things, if a person can come from the ashes of the holocaust and preach about the abundance of life....then I need, and we need to listen. For it is from the pit of hell that they speak and theirs is a reason for hope.

      They often say that ones hell could be another's heaven...although I have a hard time fathoming ANYONE could have ENJOYED being in a concentration

camp.  I find myself wondering how would I have reacted to the state of life if I were in that situation. I think long and hard on that unplausible event.  At the very most in my life, I have been put into UNCOMFORTABLE situations, but I never been remotely close to this type of environment!  There is no way anyone can relate to this experience unless they have actually been there, and therein lies the dilemma. That being said, is there any way a person can relate to Frankl? Yes, in our  own ways, there are times when we feel the gauntlet of life beating us down to the extreme that we no longer wish to feel the pain. At times  I am sure there are those who feel they are living their own Auchwitz experience.  I am not blasely stating or comparing the events in any way shape or form. However, perception is sometimes one's reality.  Just ask any person who suffers from acute anxiety and they will tell you that it is truly an unbearable state of existence.

     What does this mean in a world of complex emotions? Can there be any meaning to the comparison of one mans horror to anothers?  I can only postulate that is all that we can do in our meager minds to comprehend the world of those who suffer something as cataclysmic as Auschwitz.

     Comparisons of suffering, like the old attage says "misery loves company" is way for those of us who have the inclinations to become emotionally distraught as a source of comraderi with eachother. It is sometimes all we have. That and the ever secular idea of medication. I would love to find out if Victor Frankl ever felt the need to prescribe to himself any type of medication after his experiences in Auschwitz. Being a  psyciatrist, I am certain he could. Although I am uncertain as to what type of medications would even be available to him in 1945!

    I am certainly not saying medications are wrong...I myself am taking anti-depressants.  I wish I was not, it is for my family's sake that I do so.  In Frankl's time, the standard procedure for those who suffered from acute depression was to have them electro-shocked therapy.  If you know the movie "One Flew Over The Cooku's Nest" you might remember the horrific nature of this event given to the main character McMichaels (Jack Nicholson). It seems barbaric to those of us in this day and age, however, that was the archaic methodology known to work.  I know from my own family history that this very procedure was done to my maternal grandfather.

     I had no idea about my grandfather's experiences with depression because it was never discussed by my mother.  It was,  and to some extent still is, considered taboo to speak of this 'ailment'.   Today we know the folly of this type of thinking.

     I must keep reminding myself that the purpose of this blog is to help assuage the feeling of hopelessness for those who feel they are doomed to the chains and limitations of depression.

     I will not, nor should anyone else EVER succumb to the ignoble idea that this is a disease that can only be treated with medication and physcho-therapy.  I hesitate to even call it a disease inasmuch as it has been called.  True it has been shown, without (in my opinion) clear evidence that there are brain synapses that do not seem to be firing on all cylinders. This may or may not be true.  My point is that it seems to me that there is much more at play then this physiological explanation.  

     What then am I saying? The human brain, in most people, operates the whole  complex system we call the human mind.  Now your mind, from a physical perspective, appears in like and fashion as does the average human. What truly makes one unique from one another is WHAT goes on in that shell or organ. Obviously, the differences in our thinking (a non-matter if you will) is as abundant as the stars in the skies and the sand on the beach.

     Few examples are needed to prove this point, but let's take one very infamous mind...that of Adolf Hitler. Now, many psychiatrist have studied this man and his mind.  Most will concur that his mind, ie...his thinking process,  was fully concentrated on those thoughts that were of human nature very evil. Therefore, his ACTIONS led him to obviously do the things his mind had told him to do. Is there anyone out there in the blogosphere who would debate this...aside from those who are skin-head types? I, for one, do not doubt the veracity of this statement.

     Is not, however, the term evil a SUBJECTIVE term? I am sure to Hitler and his sycophants, the completion of Hitlers thoughts and plans were completely within the realm of normalcy.  As James Allen in his book, "As A Man Thinketh"  "As a man thinketh in his heart so is he," not only embraces the whole of a man's being, but is so comprehensive as to reach out to every condition and circumstance of his life. A man is literally what he thinks, his character being the complete sum of all his thoughts."

     We as a civilized society have certain standards by which we ascribe to in order for there to be stability.  However, history is replete with those individuals like Hitler who would not be characterized as followers of these accepted norms.

     What does all of this have to do with depression? In my humble opinion depression can be as simple and subjective as the term 'evil'.  Now many will argue this point, but let me be clear....depression can be a state of mind that in many circumstances can be overcome...but not necessarily 'cured'.  Yes, there is or there are times when this disability is lessened with man's medicinal acumen, but in a larger sense, it is the will of the individual that can make it such that this 'negative' thing can truly be a blessing in disguise.

     A blessing in disguise!!?? The term sadist might be making it's way into your mind right now, and truth be told, I would not blame you for your thinking me as such. However, you mayhave noticed by now that I am not writing this blog as a secularist, but as a man of deep and abiding faith in Christ.  My Catholic faith has taught me many things and for those who are not familiar with it's teachings, my writings may appear to be that of a 'holy-roller' or a religious nut.

     I can assure you that if you think of me as such, then no matter what I write, you will out of hand dismiss it. That is your prerogative do so, but hopefully there will be those of you reading this who may consider at least my point of view a valid one. I do not claim, as I stated earlier, a scholar on depression or in Catholic dogma. However, I believe what the Church says about personal suffering, that it can lead to a better life for those who take the negative and reverse it into a positive.

     For argument sake, let me take the religious aspect away for a moment and go back to Victor Frankl.  I cannot say it more emphatically that, in my humble opinion, no greater secular resource is available today for those of you who are troubled by the concept of suffering, than Frankl's writings in Man's Search For Meaning.  I could blog all day long on this man's insights.  As Frankl writes " the last of the human freedoms-to choose ones attitude in ANY given set of circumstances, to choose one's way."  This refers to your mental and spiritual state of being.  That is so powerful if you really think about it.

     Suffering from clinical and to some extent even the non-clinical bouts of depression DOES NOT mean we have to be a slave to this way of life.  As I  stated earlier in this blog, I know from which I speak.  In my life, I have had a terrible time coming to accept the 'bad' things in my life that have occurred. Recently, I was let go from my teaching position. The truly one thing in my life that I believed was my true calling.  I loved most things about my job, the daily interactions with students, the ability to help kids reach their potential...a truly rewarding profession....however, like many institutions, it does come with some baggage.  I have had the displeasure of working with very questionable administrative leaders.  I do not mention this as a form of 'sour grapes' on my part, but I only mention it because I have had my life's profession derailed due to what I believe was incompetence on certain administrators .  Suffice it to say, this situation(s) have led me down a dark road emotionally. My depression and anxiety intensified greatly during this stage of my life. I felt betrayed and was terribly hurt by those who I trusted.

    To add insult to injury, I am at this point in this writing, still without full- time work as a teacher or in any other professional capacity.  I have been regulated to working as a sub teacher and working nights at a local grocery store stocking YOGURT! One of the seven deadly sins is pride, which can be very detrimental to a person who has worked in a profession for over 20 years only to find that he is no longer wanted by the only job he/she ever wanted.

     I only mention this as means of personalizing my suffering.  It is the same for the countless others who have lost their jobs in this deficient economy. One's suffering of course has degrees.  In my case , I am very fortunate to have a wife who has a very good job, and although we are not destitute, we have been hurt financially without my former income.

     Suffering due to a loss of employment is not a total calamity for some, as it might be for others obviously.  However, I venture to say that if you were to ask a person who has lost a job, due to circumstances beyond his/her own control, they would tell you they feel hopeless when they can not find another job. This is exactly what I feel at this very moment. Try as I might, I have had one job after another turned down. Either I am too qualified or not enough qualified, or for any other myriad of reasons.

     Being unemployed is difficult enough, and if you are also a person who has depression already in the midst of this situation, the combination of the two can make for a very tenuous period in one's life.  Tenuous, but absolutely not hopeless.  I believe that here in lies the ability of one such person to do what Frankl suggest in his logotherapy  sessions. The term 'logos' is a Greek word for ''meaning'. In his writing's, Frankl states, "Life has meaning under all circumstances, even the most miserable ones.

Our main motivation for living is our will to find meaning in life.

We have freedom to find meaning in what we do, and what we experience, or at least in the stand we take when faced with a situation of unchangeable suffering."

     So, how do we, who 'suffer' from depression find meaning in something that at times becomes  unbearable?  It is here where I employ my faith and Frankl's "will to meaning".

     It does not take a PhD in psychology to understand the connection between a persons self-worth and what they do for a living. To be more precise, I believe that if a person is confident and happy,  there is a very strong relationship with this feeling and that person's life work.  It can be said that this type of person has a fairly healthy 'will to meaning' in their life. That is to say that their career choice has given that person a meaning or a purpose in life.

     If, for example, you are a doctor or a lawyer, or any other type of what is considered a high-profile occupation, is it axiomatic that you have a strong 'will to meaning' in your life? Maybe or maybe not...and I think that is where some of us who have depressive tendencies, tend to believe that having such high-profile jobs will make us 'better' in the sense of our self-worth. Our modern day culture has systematically instilled this belief throughout our lives. To have a good paying job is all that you need tone happy! This is truly a fallacious thought. Many people who have great paying jobs are not truly happy.  I believe the term is called materialistic.

     Conversely,  those who do not have high-paying occupations, are not necessarily despondent over their state in life.  A person who digs ditches for a living may be happy as a loon.  What is the difference in their outlook on life? I believe that each has an adjusted view of their life's worth based on their current occupation. If that current occupation is not meaningful, regardless of which one, then the chances are that person(s) are probably not content with their life.

    The key 'element' in this scenario is 'meaning'. Not just any old meaning, but I believe a profound and life altering 'meaning' and purpose that is precipitated by one's WILL TO MEANING.  By this I mean that a person in mind and spirit seek out meaning BEYOND their own existence. Take for example my ditch digger....if he/she truly believes that their life work (i.e digging ditches) is a calling by what I  believe is God, and that find a meaning beyond their pay check...then they have a 'will to meaning'! Theirs is an existence that is not centered on self!

     Depression often times does not occur within this framework, but is simply a condition not fully understood by physicians, neurosurgeons, psychiatrist, psychologist and academia alike.  So how then does this station in life become something that one can turn the tables and become a force for good? If this mental state is perceived as being nothing but a debilitating 'disease', then is there any way it can become a positive lifestyle for those who are prone to live with it?

     As a special education teacher, I have worked with many students who have many physical and mental difficulties that interfere to some extent their ability to participate fully in regular education classes.  The various challenges they face does not limit them in their outlook on life as I have observed.

     Life's history is replete with extraordinary people who have taken the road less traveled and rose above their unfortunate lot in life. What is sometimes even more amazing are the people who do so with an attitude of gratitude for their 'cross' of which they bare.

     Frankl himself is a prime example, but I would like to mention people I know personally. As I mentioned earlier, I have the honor of working one-on-one with a student who is confined to a wheelchair and is also somewhat academically challenged. This young man has a great attitude about his life. I for one have come to the realization that I believe the good Lord put him in my life to answer my life's meaning.

     There are those who may feel sympathy for those who are predicated on living by means of almost complete and total outside physical and mental assistance. True, my first instinctive emotion was one of sympathy, but as I became more aware of this young man's capabilities I was far more impressed with what he could do instead of what he could not do. He was there for me! Whether or not this relationship will remain a permanent position for me instead of teaching in a regular education class is yet to be determined.

     These past few months have been very difficult for my pride. Being out of full- time work, is to say the least, very discouraging. I have gone through all of the stages of death ( i.e the death of my career) in coming to terms to what has happened.  At first I was in a state of complete denial when my principal told me in March of 2013 that the school was not going to renew my contract. I was outraged as there was virtually no indications that I was doing anything wrong in my teaching techniques. I was originally told that it was due to a decline in the middle school enrollment and therefore there needed to be a reduction in the middle school staff.

     It was later that I learned that my being chosen as the 'sacrificial' lamb was due in large part because my principal felt that I was not suited for the job and was too flexible in my teaching style.  I found this very hard to understand because my teacher evaluations were very positive. I mention this not as a means of venting my displeasure, but to describe a situation in my life that has led to a monumental shifting of my life's work. This type of change in one's life can have implications for a person who has difficulty accepting such changes. I unfortunately have this personality flaw.
     As Kubler-Ross explains in her oft quoted book, "The Stages of Death", the four levels of 'death' must be processed in order for a person to accept their fate. Now that may or may not be true for some people, however for me, I believe I am stuck in the angry stage. It is difficult for me to accept the fact that I was wronged in my last job. Part and parcel of my mental conflicts are steeped in accepting facts as they are sometimes presented. This is a failure on my part, and not a condition that is easily overcome with a depressive state of mind. That being said, it is incumbent on me, and ONLY me to work through this paradigm.

     I mention my current employment status as one in flux, a state of being not conducive to one who likes order in his or her life. Not knowing whether or not I will have steady employment is nerve racking enough, compound that with a depressive mood 'disorder' and that is recipe for more angst in my life.

     To conclude my blog writing here, I want to convey more clearly why I am blogging for those of you out there in the cyber-world. My goal is to establish the fact that having the stigma of a depressive mood disorder, can in fact be blessing in disguise as I mentioned before. As humans, we like to believe that any type of suffering is a bad thing. Unless you are a masochist, this would by all appearances be a normal attitude. I, for one would rather not have the genetically assigned predisposition to depression.

     In the end, it all comes down to whether or not you have a faith that enables you to reconcile your peculiar existence as one of necessity in living a life that our maker has ordained for you.

    For those of you who do not entertain the belief in a superior being,this could prove problematic. However you look at life, as I reference Victor Frankl one last time, "we ALL have a WILL to meaning in our lives", now it is up to each of us to find it.