Trying to stay true to my title.

So, I guess now that I’m over my last bout of depression, I can write about depression.  That doesn’t make sense, does it? When I need to be cheery on a beautiful Sunday afternoon in Florida, I choose to write about something that sounds more like Edgar Allan Poe’s “Pit and the Pendulum,” and he was depressed most of his writing career. 

Here goes, from my vantage point, I can only speak to what I’m dealing with.  First, it’s not like having a bad day. I could shake that off, and when things went totally wrong, I’d laugh after my fit of anger and a cursory barrage of F-bombs and say Lord what next the locusts and frogs?  No, this is like being between the reality of the past and being like a spectator in the present.  People want to help, give advice, ask how you are feeling and console you, then move on in their hectic and plugged-in world, and you’re not.  You wish someone would understand and give you the magic words that will snap you out of it and put things back where they were (only the good stuff, though).  I generally accept that even the most well-meaning folks can’t do that for me.

My Christian Shrink is good and suggested I write this blog, so I am.  He thinks I have some talent in this, but rest assured I won’t be a New York Times best-selling author, any time soon.  I like to tell it like it is and enjoy sarcasm and earthy humor, and that’s how I write as long as my wife edits it so that it is somewhat readable. 

A big help in my coping is a new dog we have named bear – we didn’t give him that name; it was given to him by his previous master, who died and was given to the ASPCA.  With God inspiring my 16-year old son to adopt him after our last dog Teddy died in his arms while my wife and I were at the hospital getting a post-stroke stress test on my heart.  Bear pesters me to play fetch with him and is my constant companion.  I recommend a dog for a companion in the battle with depression.  He doesn’t ask tough questions, just looks up at me with his eyes and a wag of his tail, and says, “let’s play ball,” no matter the weather.

After the stroke, I had a bit of depression, and my general practitioner prescribed anti-depressants.  Following that advice was my first mistake.  I had a reaction, and it sent me into an unannounced and somewhat violent seizure, and never in my life had I had this happen.  I would look like a freshly caught bass flopping around on the bottom of a johnboat.  After the 2^nd bout of seizures, they did a DNA test and found out that I am prone to these reactions with the medication they prescribed.  They fiddled around with dosages and different types and treating me like a science experiment.  Nobody knows what the deal is, but going through seizures, losing some of my peripheral vision on my left side, left me not able to drive safely.

Very quickly, I went from a hard-charging go for the gold guy to suddenly sidelined, and I am now a virtual prisoner in my house occasionally going out to church, bible study, and the dollar menu at McDonald’s. Don’t get me wrong, it could be so much worse, and I pray each morning for those who have it much worse than I and that with thanks to God for my blessings, lifts me.  I ask God the really tough question.  What do you want me to do now?    I feel like I just landed on the moon, wondering how I got here.  I cry out to God, not for mercy and things, but how can I serve and be useful.   The answer here to date has not been forthcoming, or my depression has shut my ears.  I know God is there, but I don’t understand what he wants me to do. Isaiah 55:8 states, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord” this gives me an excellent default for unanswered prayers or answers I don’t hear.  But being an impatient and get it done kind of guy God’s not fast enough for me.  I got Kingdom stuff to do. Don’t put me on the bench now! I also know that you must wait upon the Lord and give the battle to the Lord or, as an old business mentor, Walter told me when I was going through a rough stretch, “If you got a problem too big to solve, give it to someone else.  He was an old school hard-nosed Irishman. I’m doing precisely that and letting God handle the stuff he won’t let me do myself, and he’s got “the juice,” to smite anything, just ask the Egyptians.

However, staring down creditors and the more personal ones with old relationships that you owe and are struggling to pay is not a prescription for a depression cure.  Fortunately, and through truth and communication, the situation, with God in the middle, makes it more tolerable.  The corporate greedheads who have made much off of me over the years, I treat with dignity to the worker bees and play hardball with lawyers and bullies.  They can take everything sometimes but never your dignity, so in the end, the corporations are just a thing, not another child of God. Don’t get me wrong; you should always pay your bills, but if you have never been in business and on the writing end of paychecks, you may want to withhold judgment on tough life choices. 

I remember one time we weren’t going to make payroll unless we let a check bounce to the Florida Dept of Revenue for sales tax. I’m staring at a parking lot full of wives and their kids waiting on those paychecks before our truck drivers returned from a grueling 10-12-hour day on the road.  They live paycheck to paycheck, and there wasn’t any “oh sorry we just ran out of money could you wait until Monday when we got more money or borrow some? No, I did what I thought was the right thing to do on a difficult choice. That next day the FDOR got a warrant for my arrest for a bad check, and I was arrested in my own office and hauled off to county jail. In the holding room with me, I had the company of several fellow citizens who made tough choices, one for child support he didn’t get in on time by a week another for bouncing a $40 check to Publix for groceries to feed his family until payday.  Friends this was 30 years ago, and nothing has changed, it is the way of the world.  I got bailed out that night, but not before I had to take a ride with others of my criminality along with robbers and thugs AND plucked out of the holding room just before I was to be issued an orange jumpsuit and sent out onto the floor with the real bad guys.  Never was I so happy to see my oldest son on that day with bail money.  I made the check good the following week but had to serve 3 months’ probation. Once again, an angel, in the form of my longtime attorney and friend, Charles, had the whole thing expunged from my record.  I guess this blog revealed that, but I don’t care I never feared the truth, and as Jesus said, “the truth will set you free.”
  

You see my brothers and sisters in depression; it can always be worse no matter what the injustices and persecution may be. I’m not feeling the pure joy of persecution and suffering that the Apostle Paul speaks of, but I don’t dwell on it either, this is where the Devil will destroy you.

How do I know Jesus has almighty power?  Recently as I journey through this desert called depression, I had an episode while trying to sleep and trying to medicate myself with tv.  I suddenly was overcome with sweat, chills, and severe headache and a bad taste in my mouth, and I thought maybe I was going to have another seizure.  But this was different; I felt a cloud of pure dark evil come upon me and fear and panic.  I read scripture earlier in the week about how demons and Satan were cast out in the name of Jesus. I was so panicked and desperate. I blurted out loudly, “IN THE NAME OF JESUS I REBUKE YOU SATAN LEAVE ME AND MY FAMILY ALONE AND BE GONE!” After just a few seconds, the chills went away, the sweat subsided, and the bad taste went away with my next swallow.  I was calm and drifted off to sleep to the science channel.  I woke up a few hours later and thanked Jesus and the Father for rescuing me.  Somewhat more lightheartedly later, I thought, Wow! This stuff works. 

 Later, still, I remember another episode in my life where the Devil played to my weakness.  My first wife and I, were growing passionless in our relationship and we began sharing and comforting each other with food instead of the passion we used to have along with that midlife crisis men have a tendency to experience, I plainly said to know one in particular ‘If I could lose a hundred pounds and be thin again, I’d give $50,000.  The Devil was listening. He took the 50k, my business, my wife, and another half-million to boot. My oldest son was left to facing the world from a single-parent household.  Well, the Devil kept part of his deal, I lost the hundred pounds got another wife had a beautiful daughter divorced her and landed into the wonderful person I’m married to now.  Out of the Devil imposed chaos, a lot of help was given to me from a great young country bible preaching pastor named Ken Wagstaff, from the Ft. Drum Community Church, a Village Ministry Outreach church. We needed each other He’d ride back to Melbourne with me, and we’d talk about old cars which much to the congregation’s dismay he had several locals under repair on the parsonage front yard and sometimes one he’d own.   One morning in worship praise time in this little country church I remember this little bedraggled 12-year-old boy got up in his rural southern accent proudly testified that he thanked the Lord because I quit chewing (tobacco) this week and abruptly sat down with the little congregation breaking into applause and praising God.  As time went on, my 2^nd wife and I fought more and more, and one night I spent the night sleeping in my truck at the local community dump because I didn’t have anywhere to go. Talk about feeling low.  But that is different than now. My 2^nd ex and my daughter live in upstate New York, and my daughter, now 28, lives with her taking care of her as she is not well.  We still pray for each other, remember the best of what we were to each other, and marvel at how God brings good out of our foolishness.

While I’m on a full disclosure true confession role, my first wife and I before we were married had an abortion right after Roe vs. Wade.  We were scared and murdered an innocent little boy.  Yes, among other things, I am a murderer and an adulterer. My 1^st wife now runs a church offshoot to counsel women who bear the guilt of abortion and works to help them seek redemption for themselves.  God has a way of leading us back no matter how bad we are and making the terrible something excellent and Holy. He is an amazing God that I struggle to understand, but I can behold in awe.

Recently I attended a class at my church on discernment and hearing God. We got off on a side trip about Bartimaeus, the blind man Jesus healed on the way to/from Jericho and how he had faith, and Jesus stopped and touched him, and he got his eyesight back.  I spoke up and told the class that if we add a little bit to the story that Bartimaeus might have been a successful merchant and lost his livelihood and everything he had and couldn’t provide for his family, well, I’m that guy!  Sitting alongside the road my depression is my blindness in addition to the physical loss of some vision and waiting for Jesus to come by and stop to have mercy (not pity) on me and heal me and give me my dignity back like the real healing he did for Bartimaeus, restoring his dignity.  Someone from the class complimented me on what an excellent interpretation of the parable I did and how transparent I was about my own life.  I replied politely and thanked her, but being open is easy for me because it isn’t what you and others think of me. The truth comes easy, after all. When you do not fear your past or what you are going through right now.  This is probably as good of a place as any to inject a long one-liner I have recently composed that helps me stay focused and grounded.  I jokingly call it Chapter 1 verse 1 of the non-canonized book of Rick.  THE ROAD OF CONVICTION LEADS TO GOD’S GRACE AND IS PAVED WITH REPENTANCE AND WASHED CLEAN OF GUILT WITH THE BLOOD OF JESUS, LIVE LIFE WITH NO REGRETS if I keep telling myself that I can get through another day.

I am chemical free for depression. I’m relying on prayer, discernment of the Holy Spirit, and my always supportive and faithful wife. I’m not cured like Bartimaeus, but I’m coping and accepting my lot.  Some people may be able to cope with help from the chemicals; I can’t.   Thomas Jefferson said, “Question everything, even the very existence of God” Thomas wouldn’t have made that statement had he at least known the answer was yes to the last part but question everything else that comes from man.  Question your doctors and Psychologists. Don’t make them your God but ask God to guide them, use them.  Be careful, the world is a minefield, walk with God, and you won’t perish except to journey to a better and safer place.

Next, we’ll get back to Haiti with more to that story with intrigue, tears, and laughter. Kind of Tom Clancy, Samaritans Purse, and the Keystone cops all rolled into one. After that, we may take another stroll down music row with my bazaar and comical performance sketches and some original vintage recordings by Topaz from 1979 (wow! that was 40 years ago. man am I old.)  I hope to “talk” to you all soon if I’m not too depressed. 😊

My Counselor suggested that I, in blog terms, encourage you “my tribe” and solicit feedback and insights from my readers.  I would love that, and I hope I might connect with you all.