Robin Williams died today. He committed suicide. So many people laughed at his movies, but in the end, I guess it wasn't enough. Makes me want to cry.
In reaction to this, some Christians look at Williams' life, shake their heads, and say "all he needed was Jesus, then he wouldn't have been depressed." To them, it's a non-issue with a single solution: know God and you will have all of the joy you need. Because no Christian would ever lose the hope Jesus gave them, after all, depression is simply an emotion, right?
But depression is not only an emotional reaction to our surroundings, it's also a biological issue, treatable with drugs and therapy. It is a problem, not an easily dismissed figment of some disturbed mind. People suffering from depression need support and help, just as any of us would if we contracted a disease. As Williams just proved, depression can kill. It is not a non-issue.
I admit, I've never been diagnosed with chronic depression, but I do have anxiety and take medication for it. Since I started taking it, my life has improved drastically. Yes, in my case medication was not the sole factor in helping me overcome anxiety, but it helps a lot more than I had hoped. Is it a placebo effect? Maybe, who knows. I personally don't care. The fact that it helps tells me that I needed a boost to get out of the hole my anxiety created and start looking at the world around me.
As far as I can tell, depression is like this as well. Yes, praying and having a relationship with God is theoretically the best medicine, but would you treat a disease solely with prayer? No. Would you tell a friend going those the loss of a loved one simply to know Jesus more? No. So don't treat depression like a simple little issue that can be wiped away by "knowing Jesus." Life is so much more complex, as much as Christians would like God to fix everything.
That might not have sounded like a rant to you, but guys, I'm pissed off by anyone who insults depression by shoving it off. People are hurting and we are the church - love others, don't demean their problems. Listen. Help. Leave judgment to God. Just because you personally have not experienced a sadness so deep that you can't walk away does not mean to dismiss the problem.
I've had extroverts do the same thing to my anxiety. It affects my faith to this day. Sometimes we need to listen instead of fixing problems.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Memories
Today I sat with my mom in a beautiful tea shop, just talking and enjoying each other's company.
There are so many favourite memories.
The Nosebag watching my dad take his first bite of clotted cream.
Tea and biscuits in an attic room as my roommate and I watched North & South.
Tea and scones on the floor of another room gushing over David Tennant's pretty face.
Countless conversations in the Rendezvous as we recovered from a long day at the library.
The day the stress of Oxford made me break into tears and my roommate was there to drag my off to a comforting cup, despite her own busy day.
Snow piled high around a Finnish house as a friend's mom lays out an amazing tea.
Another roommate walking in to find me curled up on her bed in tears after a recent breakup and promptly asking if I needed tea, which she proceeded to make and then watch anime with me.
Mint tea made with loving hands and much complaining.
Deciding on iced tea flavours with Mom.
Carefully cleaning and polishing her old oak recipe box in order to fill it with our bags. Seeing many memories and stories hidden in its hinges.
Handing a 5 year-old his first cup, and watching him spill it all over himself.
Memories. No wonder the British are so obsessed with tea. It's like drinking a bit of home, all the different homes, even when I feel so far away.
There are so many favourite memories.
The Nosebag watching my dad take his first bite of clotted cream.
Tea and biscuits in an attic room as my roommate and I watched North & South.
Tea and scones on the floor of another room gushing over David Tennant's pretty face.
Countless conversations in the Rendezvous as we recovered from a long day at the library.
The day the stress of Oxford made me break into tears and my roommate was there to drag my off to a comforting cup, despite her own busy day.
Snow piled high around a Finnish house as a friend's mom lays out an amazing tea.
Another roommate walking in to find me curled up on her bed in tears after a recent breakup and promptly asking if I needed tea, which she proceeded to make and then watch anime with me.
Mint tea made with loving hands and much complaining.
Deciding on iced tea flavours with Mom.
Carefully cleaning and polishing her old oak recipe box in order to fill it with our bags. Seeing many memories and stories hidden in its hinges.
Handing a 5 year-old his first cup, and watching him spill it all over himself.
Memories. No wonder the British are so obsessed with tea. It's like drinking a bit of home, all the different homes, even when I feel so far away.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Control
I'm a tiny little bit dyslexic. Not much, just enough to make spelling difficult and to switch around numbers more than some. Usually it doesn't bother me - just pay attention to reading numbers out loud and be constantly aware of double checking spelling.
Today though, I switched numbers and letters around constantly while completely paperwork with my boss. She would read a number to me and I would have it backwards. A customer or two had to spell their names twice. Apparently I was told to type "bry" and spelled "byr" several times before getting it right. I am completely convinced that I was spelling it right the entire time, but that's another story.
Anyway, it's weird to have your brain mess with inputs to spit out a different result. Not my favourite experience and shows that I probably can't stay up until midnight reading all that often.
Mostly though, I realize how much I hate being out of control. That's my safety zone. As my perceived control over my actions and environment grows, I feel more confident to explore and adventure. But take that control away, well, I'm not happy. Probably something I should work on.
Today though, I switched numbers and letters around constantly while completely paperwork with my boss. She would read a number to me and I would have it backwards. A customer or two had to spell their names twice. Apparently I was told to type "bry" and spelled "byr" several times before getting it right. I am completely convinced that I was spelling it right the entire time, but that's another story.
Anyway, it's weird to have your brain mess with inputs to spit out a different result. Not my favourite experience and shows that I probably can't stay up until midnight reading all that often.
Mostly though, I realize how much I hate being out of control. That's my safety zone. As my perceived control over my actions and environment grows, I feel more confident to explore and adventure. But take that control away, well, I'm not happy. Probably something I should work on.
Monday, July 28, 2014
Tradition
One of my good friends just wrote a piece on tradition and its value vs. technology (http://savannahcordry.wordpress.com/2014/07/26/tradition/). It's one of my favourite paradoxes to consider, so I thought I'd continue the conversation here, but with a more limited scope: the church. This is one of the places that is both helped the most by tradition, and yet so hindered by it.
First, I should note that I hate parts of tradition. Women should be allowed to speak, dress, and act as they please. Men should be allowed to express their emotions, give hugs, and dislike sports without judgment. Christians have fervently upheld many of the traditions that trap both men and women in little boxes based on sex, refusing to allow their unique talents flourish.
However, my favourite place to worship is in the grand cathedrals of Europe or Central America. Here you can feel the contradictions of Christians - servants and slaves built these beautiful buildings because their masters believed they were truly loving God. But then, there are the parts made by the master craftsmen. The places with such detail and beauty, you glimpse a bit of heaven. In these traditions, in these holy places, you can glimpse the wider world of Christianity and all it has encompassed over the centuries. Whatever your thoughts on Christians, our history is not something to be dismissed lightly.
Similarly, tradition brings us closer together, while tearing us apart. Belief in the cross holds us together, until some break with tradition as others cling tight. Tradition cannot be the end or the beginning of our faith, but in many ways it feels like the glue that holds us together. I want to weave the central part of tradition into my life, but reject the parts that disrespect and hate others. Not only do I want to learn from tradition, I want to actively use it to shape my life and use the wisdom (or mistakes) of others before me.
First, I should note that I hate parts of tradition. Women should be allowed to speak, dress, and act as they please. Men should be allowed to express their emotions, give hugs, and dislike sports without judgment. Christians have fervently upheld many of the traditions that trap both men and women in little boxes based on sex, refusing to allow their unique talents flourish.
However, my favourite place to worship is in the grand cathedrals of Europe or Central America. Here you can feel the contradictions of Christians - servants and slaves built these beautiful buildings because their masters believed they were truly loving God. But then, there are the parts made by the master craftsmen. The places with such detail and beauty, you glimpse a bit of heaven. In these traditions, in these holy places, you can glimpse the wider world of Christianity and all it has encompassed over the centuries. Whatever your thoughts on Christians, our history is not something to be dismissed lightly.
Similarly, tradition brings us closer together, while tearing us apart. Belief in the cross holds us together, until some break with tradition as others cling tight. Tradition cannot be the end or the beginning of our faith, but in many ways it feels like the glue that holds us together. I want to weave the central part of tradition into my life, but reject the parts that disrespect and hate others. Not only do I want to learn from tradition, I want to actively use it to shape my life and use the wisdom (or mistakes) of others before me.
Sunday, July 27, 2014
Why?
Today I spent the morning and afternoon running around with two great chatterbo kids, an 8 year old girl and a five year old boy. This resulted in several rather awkward conversations, but this was the true gem of the day:
Boy: "How old are you?"
Me: "22"
Boy: "Are you a mama?"
Me: "No..."
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "I'm not married, so I don't have kids" (keep it simple - he can learn about single parents later, and not from me)
*silence*
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "Um, I haven't met the right person yet" (Seriously, is there a worse question for a single, Christian, twenty-something watching her friends get married off?)
Girl: "Well how do you know who the right person is?"
Me: "Um, well, um, uh, everyone has different ideas..."
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "..."
And the conversation ended shortly after that, probably with the two kids having no greater understanding of romance.
This just barely won out over the brief discussion of armpit hair and why girls shave it and guys don't.
Boy: "How old are you?"
Me: "22"
Boy: "Are you a mama?"
Me: "No..."
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "I'm not married, so I don't have kids" (keep it simple - he can learn about single parents later, and not from me)
*silence*
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "Um, I haven't met the right person yet" (Seriously, is there a worse question for a single, Christian, twenty-something watching her friends get married off?)
Girl: "Well how do you know who the right person is?"
Me: "Um, well, um, uh, everyone has different ideas..."
Boy: "Why?"
Me: "..."
And the conversation ended shortly after that, probably with the two kids having no greater understanding of romance.
This just barely won out over the brief discussion of armpit hair and why girls shave it and guys don't.
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Average
I've never viewed myself as particularly average. In school, I've always been one of the smart kids. In social situations, I've been the really shy ones. In places I'm comfortable, I'm an odd duck. Other people have noted that I'm very nice and kind. For good or bad, I've always had some defining characteristic that no one really shares with me.
For fun, I just took a fairly long online personality test. The format was a bit different than what I've encountered, so I was able to answer more truthfully than normal. Pretty much, it told me I was just like anyone else my age. Is the test right? Who knows, who cares. What got me thinking was how disappointed I was in being average.
Now that I'm graduated, I'm not special. I'm not different. I'm just one in a billion people wandering around doing stuff. The fact is that I can be ok with that. If I want, I could strive to do something that would hold me out of the average camp or I could do something more "normal," but just as meaningful. It doesn't matter.
I have the choice to base my worth on my own judgments. Meaning is what I make of it. I can choose to believe I am worthwhile because God loves me. Or because my parents love me. Or because I love stacking birdseed. Average is not an expression of worth, but simply an interesting factoid. Think about it this way, would you rather be known as unique or kind? Is it important to be known at all? Probably depends on the person.
Anyway, growing up is hard, just fyi.
For fun, I just took a fairly long online personality test. The format was a bit different than what I've encountered, so I was able to answer more truthfully than normal. Pretty much, it told me I was just like anyone else my age. Is the test right? Who knows, who cares. What got me thinking was how disappointed I was in being average.
Now that I'm graduated, I'm not special. I'm not different. I'm just one in a billion people wandering around doing stuff. The fact is that I can be ok with that. If I want, I could strive to do something that would hold me out of the average camp or I could do something more "normal," but just as meaningful. It doesn't matter.
I have the choice to base my worth on my own judgments. Meaning is what I make of it. I can choose to believe I am worthwhile because God loves me. Or because my parents love me. Or because I love stacking birdseed. Average is not an expression of worth, but simply an interesting factoid. Think about it this way, would you rather be known as unique or kind? Is it important to be known at all? Probably depends on the person.
Anyway, growing up is hard, just fyi.
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Yay!
Things I'm not scared of any more:
- Strangers
- Large groups of strangers
- Garages, dark streets, my car at night, or any where a monster/criminal could be living out of sight
- Attracting attention through my appearance
- Breaking rules, within limits
- Coffee dates with people I don't know so well. An hour long conversation used to leave me exhausted, now it doesn't
- Lakes/oceans
- Randomly ending up on stage in front of a bunch of people, say to help the speak display a toy Thomas the Tank Engine as a visual aid
- My relatives. Used to freak me out that there was this bunch of practical strangers I had to converse with once-twice a year. Now I can love them and enjoy family gatherings.
- Airports
- Driving
- Eating with people I don't know very well
- Using public restrooms
Basically, having social anxiety sucks. It made my world very small and very scary for a long time. Now I'm getting a handle on it and I'm happy. Most of you will not understand this at all or think many of the things on this list are silly, but trust me, the silliest things can be very frightening indeed. In a world run by extroverts, my introverted anxiety driven brain can get a little squashed. I am thankful that my particular anxiety is controllable and I pray for those who don't have options.
- Strangers
- Large groups of strangers
- Garages, dark streets, my car at night, or any where a monster/criminal could be living out of sight
- Attracting attention through my appearance
- Breaking rules, within limits
- Coffee dates with people I don't know so well. An hour long conversation used to leave me exhausted, now it doesn't
- Lakes/oceans
- Randomly ending up on stage in front of a bunch of people, say to help the speak display a toy Thomas the Tank Engine as a visual aid
- My relatives. Used to freak me out that there was this bunch of practical strangers I had to converse with once-twice a year. Now I can love them and enjoy family gatherings.
- Airports
- Driving
- Eating with people I don't know very well
- Using public restrooms
Basically, having social anxiety sucks. It made my world very small and very scary for a long time. Now I'm getting a handle on it and I'm happy. Most of you will not understand this at all or think many of the things on this list are silly, but trust me, the silliest things can be very frightening indeed. In a world run by extroverts, my introverted anxiety driven brain can get a little squashed. I am thankful that my particular anxiety is controllable and I pray for those who don't have options.
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