It is early December, and a very foggy day, and by a strange line of lateral thinking I remembered that I once wrote this piece for a blog I ran during a sabbatical in 2007. Nearly ten years later it is interesting to revisit this, and I am posting this not because I am in a low mood – I am feeling very positive – but I am mindful of so many in ministry and mission who are depressed at this time of year.
When I posted it on my blog in 2007, I was jumped by my deacons who said ‘Pastors really shouldn’t post this kind of thing. It will make your flock reluctant to share their problems with you. Keep quiet about your depression. It is most unwise to talk about it.’ Well, they leaned hard, and I took it down, and I continue to think that was wrong. In the dark of winter, or at any time of year, it is really important to talk about depression, and to be open about it and help each other. So here it is. Hope it helps someone.
Churchill called it his ‘black dog’, but it is still the great unmentionable today, and it still carries a great stigma, especially among those who do not understand it. Many people suffer from depression without realising it, and live in denial, making their own lives and the lives of their loved ones a misery. For me, the past week has brought back some of the old symptoms: noticeable mood swings, disturbed sleep, lethargy, loss of concentration and creativity (hence no blogging), loss of interest in anything (starting reading lots of books and quickly giving up), introspection with weird temptations, a malaise and listlessness, comfort eating, short temper, and the illusion that life would be so much better if we upped sticks and started again elsewhere. I would describe it best as waking up in a lead helmet.
There are several things to say about depression. First, it usually surprises you. I never expected to get a bout of depression during sabbatical, and for the first few weeks that didn’t happen: lots of jollies to look forward to – Edinburgh and Italy made me feel so happy. But now I’m home, quietly reading and deprived of my regular fix of adrenaline and other people’s attention. This is time to discover the real me rather than the busy me, and it is not a pleasant experience.
Second, it may hit you at the same time of year, as indeed happened to me when I returned from holiday in Belgium last year. There seem to be particular times of year when it strikes, and you get wise to them.
Third, there are degrees of depression – this bout is by no means the worst I have suffered, though lots of the symptoms have a familiar ring to them. Finally, when you get wise to depression, it doesn’t have to be utterly suffocating. All that is happening is that the brain’s biochemistry is lacking, and that can be restored. Rest is crucial, but also exercise. I went out on Wednesday for a 6 mile walk round Martlesham and felt hugely better the next day.
However, Friday wasn’t so good, so it takes time, and you have to ride the mood swings and get wise to them. On a good day, make the most of it but don’t overdo it, and on the bad days do what you can and get an early night. Also, work out what jobs you can do when depressed, especially things with a tangible end-product you can look at and say that you did something, and get them done, and leave the ‘road-block’ type problems to be solved on the good days. Call it ‘cognitive behavioural therapy’ if you like, but in the end if you suffer bouts of depression, in the end you get wise to it and know how to work round it. This week life is better, and I expect life will improve from here. Today I’ve had a burst of creativity and haven’t felt so threatened by failure.