2020 had it all: Disease. Death. Lockdowns. Economic despair. Social isolation. Poisoned politics. Racial strife. Street protests.
“An unprecedented convergence of crises has created one of the most difficult periods I can ever remember,” said Denver Seminary President Mark Young last fall.
These pressures have strained Americans’ mental health and tripled rates of depression, according to a Boston University study on “Life Stressors Impact on Mental Health and Well-Being.”
Seems like most of us now “live in the browns,” which is local writer Paul Asay’s phrase describing the effects of depression, “a debilitating sickness that cripples us, imprisons us, and robs of us of who we are and what we’d like to be.”
Asay (pronounced AY-see), the son of former Gazette political cartoonist Chuck Asay, was The Gazette’s religion writer from 2003 to 2007, when he went to work for Focus on the Family, reviewing TV and movies for the ministry’s “Plugged In” website, where he’s the associate editor. He also freelances and blogs on his own website.
He has written or co-written six books, including two with Focus CEO Jim Daly. But none were as scary or painful as “Beauty in the Browns: Walking with Christ in the Darkness of Depression,” to be published Feb. 9 by Focus and Illinois-based Tyndale House Publishers.
“I’ve struggled with depression, off and on, most of my life,” he writes. “For years — all of my adult life, and sometime before — I’ve kept my own personal crazy locked away, as much as I was able. I don’t like for folks to fuss or fret or worry.
“I’m an accomplice to society’s willful ignorance of depression. Even as I write this book, I secretly hope that those closest to me — my wife, my parents, my dearest friends — won’t read it.”
Asay’s primary audience is fellow believers whose struggle with depression is complicated by an evangelical subculture that embraces “a cult of happiness” and “doesn’t know what to do with us.”
But his struggles have yielded lessons that can apply to people of any, little or no faith. As he writes: “Ultimately, we choose to find hope in a world that sometimes seems hopeless, we choose joy in a culture that pushes us to despair.”
A flowing darkness
Weekly chapel services or meetings are a regular feature at dozens of Springs-based parachurch organizations, but for Asay, even these upbeat gatherings provide occasions to ruminate on death.
He describes his perspective from his balcony seat with a mix of darkness and humor: “I look below the balcony and wonder if I’d potentially die if I jumped. Likely not, so I think about hanging myself, pondering if I tied a rope to the railing if it’d be able to hold my weight. (I’ve gained a few pounds, after all.) I look at the peaked ceiling and its spiderweb of supportive struts, and I speculate how I could hang a rope up there.
“These thoughts and others flow through my mind like a small, dark brook, right alongside the other thoughts I might have — the day’s to-do list, past conversations, what I want for lunch.
“I don’t touch the stream: This suicidal ideation rarely strays from its banks, and I’ve learned not to get too close. I don’t want to die — not really. And I’d certainly not kill myself. I’d hurt too many people and miss way too many deadlines.”
Asay derives comfort from his faith in Christ and hope in God’s presence, but that’s no cure-all.
“Jesus is the answer. I say it. I know it. I believe it. But I don’t always feel it.”
Church should encourage believers, but evangelical worship rarely does.
“While Catholic sanctuaries are typically graced with the corpus of Christ, bleeding and suffering, evangelical churches are graced with an empty cross. We’ve scrapped the somber, soaring ceilings and dark stained glass of traditional church and built light, bright warehouses filled with stackable chairs,” he writes.
And though he likes Christian music, too much Christian radio makes him “feel like I’m trapped in Disney’s It’s a Small World ride, only with better percussion.”
Unfortunately, the church, “with no malice on its part, sometimes shuts down or shuts out some of the very people whom Jesus said were blessed: the poor in spirit, those who mourn.”
Not defi
ned by suffering
Asay writes to help others who struggle, but in a recent interview he said he doesn’t want suffering to define him.
“You put all these thoughts on paper, and all of a sudden, you risk turning into ‘that guy with depression,’ and they start wondering whether they should be nicer to you or hide the cutlery when you come over,” he says.
His book explores common symptoms of depression: feeling overly sad or irritable; losing interest in activities or hobbies; changes in appetite; sleep disorder and fatigue; and a sense of guilt and/or worthlessness.
Asay, who describes his depression as moderate, also explores techniques for battling depression’s dark flow.
• Staying physically active.
Asay’s weapon of choice is activity, especially running.
“While it’s perhaps a stretch to say that running saved my life, it is the single biggest cudgel that has kept my depression at bay for the last several years,” he writes.
Engaged activity has become even more important since COVID.
“Depression is inherently isolating,” Asay says. “It forces your world to get smaller and smaller, so you push against that. But for nearly a year, we’ve all been more isolated. All of our worlds have grown smaller.
“This season of COVID has really done a number on people’s psyches. One of the keys I’ve found to keeping me reasonably mentally healthy has been to get out and stay active.”
• Staying mentally active.
“Staying active means exercising the brain, too. In the book, I talk about looking in, not out. Up, not down. Forward, not back. The deadline-driven work I do helps me keep looking forward, rather than dwelling on the mistakes I’ve made in the past.”
• Giving thanks.
“In the past, I would wake up and immediately start to worry — about stuff I have to get done, or family stresses, or politics, or drought. My list of worries never ends if I allow my brain to go that way.
“But over the last several months, I’ve tried to do something different when I open my eyes: Think about three things that I can be grateful for. They don’t have to be big things. I can be grateful that my shower will have hot water. That my knees work well enough to get in the shower. That I’m not sleeping on the ground.
“It sounds weird, but it reminds me that, for all my worry, I’ve been given a tremendously beautiful life in a lot of ways. And I think that it allows me to see that beauty a little bit more throughout the course of the day.
“It doesn’t mean I don’t worry. But that worry’s more in its place.”
"light" - Google News
January 10, 2021 at 02:00PM
https://ift.tt/39xFZLd
Colorado Springs author's most personal book sheds light on depression - Colorado Springs Gazette
"light" - Google News
https://ift.tt/2Wm8QLw
https://ift.tt/2Stbv5k
Bagikan Berita Ini
0 Response to "Colorado Springs author's most personal book sheds light on depression - Colorado Springs Gazette"
Post a Comment