depression: a retrospective.

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This is a great friend of mine. And I think this is a brilliant overview of depression. Check it out.

Bo Ties's avatarthrough the trees

Depression. A word with such a wide interpretation depending on the individual. For some it means simply, “I’m sad” from any reason to the weather is not ideal, or they didn’t have my favorite brand of ice cream at the store. For others, it is a powerful demon that you have to battle every day, or for significant periods of time.

I recently went through a season of depression. If I’m totally honest, I absolutely hated every minute of it while I was going through it. By the grace of God, I’m no longer in that season and even more beautiful is that I’m starting to see how going through the process has shaped me, changed my perspective and ultimately helped me grow.

In hopes that I might help other people going through depression, or provide some understanding for those who have a loved one struggling with depression I have…

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Beauty, beauty.

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Your life is your lesson. You can’t change what people say to you, how they handle your quirks and imperfections, or even sometimes what you say when you’re not thinking. But you can learn. You can grow. And you can take everything we learned in school and make yourself the student, and life the teacher. Your life is your lesson. And you’re getting straight A’s.

…because love wins.

To look back.

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I’ve been through enough big things that I’ve learned the value of being able to look back on what was hard. I’ve learned that it always passes, but that the lessons stay. Tonight I was looking at some pictures with my mom. On my 21st birthday I could hardly stay awake in the car on the way to my birthday gathering. I was just so down and fatigued. Just depressed.

She said, “Those are some pretty deep, dark days to look back on.”

Yes, they are. And I’m so happy to be looking back, not being in them.

…because love wins.

What loving someone with ADHD has taught me about being like Jesus.

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Hi there. A preface – ADHD is kinda like this:

ADHD

The love of my life has ADHD.

That means that he can’t pay attention to what he wants to when he wants to.
That means that he can’t think through what will happen if he says what he’s thinking sometimes.
That means that he can’t sit still and listen to one voice for hours.
That means that he can’t always calm down his anxiety, because he can’t see clearly enough.
That means that for years he was treated poorly.
That means he thinks much less of himself than he should.
That means that he’s a brilliant man, who hasn’t always been able to live freely in that.
That means that he’s a person. A wonderful, wonderful, incredible person, with an illness.

ADHD is hard. Anyone who says that it isn’t or that it’s just a great benefit to their persona has probably not been treated, or hasn’t been stopped to be shown what their lives could be. I am not inferring that people cannot live life and be happy with ADHD. I am just saying that I stand in the position that a person with ADHD can’t know they need help because they don’t know how much better they could use their gifts if they actively treated their ADHD. Without being shown, that is. Jesus helped the sick. As we all should.

—

I used to be incredibly annoyed by people with ADHD. Like most people, I had no idea what it really was. I’ve made plenty of jokes about not being able to pay attention, and calling that ADHD. I used to think people with it were tactless, weren’t raised right, or had parents who just didn’t know how to discipline them. Or that they just talked more than I could handle. Of course, that can also be the case, but most of the time, it isn’t. It’s just being human with a brain with ADHD, and me wanting my life to be more comfortable.

Then I met this man.

He totally annoyed me. In fact, I knew that he had untreated ADHD, and I didn’t want to date him because of that. (I know, look at me thinking only inside the box.) I had had a few intimate relationships that didn’t go well and the other in those relationships blamed ADHD. I just didn’t really want to walk down that path again. But then I never went away, and he never went away, and it became something “we” faced rather than something just “he” faced.

I know what ADHD is now. And it’s not his fault. Nor is it his choice. Had I gone away, I wouldn’t have grown in my faith (the whole point of life) the way I have. And I would have missed the most fun, challenging, crazy, awesome, beautiful adventure of the past couple years. So I’m really glad I didn’t. And I’m glad I’ve learned these things:

—

1) Jesus is patient. I thought I was a lot more patient than I inherently am. 
Myyyy goooooodness, don’t pray for patience unless you want to learn how to be patient. And don’t expect to be able to handle medication trials and irrational anxiety really well if you’re not Jesus. Because I’m not Jesus, and handling those things are (were) really difficult. I definitely thought I was a patient person. And in some ways I was. Namely, when I fully understood situations, I was waiting in line or looking cool on a summer day. But when it comes to MY personal time, I wasn’t the best at that. Jesus is working on it. Thanks, ADHD!

2) I definitely apparently really don’t have a clue what is best for me. Jesus does. 
This fits well with the patience lesson as well. I didn’t exactly plan on having ADHD in my life forever. I was going to have a perfectly calm household where we ate nice popcorn in our perfectly clean living room each night. Where we each have 5 best friends and no tears. Nice ironed clothes and lots of perfect energy. Haha. That’s a little dramatic. But I wasn’t envisioning that we’d get to come up with awesome ways to work around forgetfulness for all of our life. But I also didn’t imagine having someone who wants to dance with me in the kitchen like a fool all the time either. See, Jesus knows better than me. And being organized is really actually super fun. Color coated post-it notes anyone?

3) Jesus makes people awesome. And as Christians in America, we’re bad at seeing that sometimes. 
One of the most challenging pieces for someone with mental illness of any kind is social interaction. I find that Christians (Sorry for saying this outright if it offends you.) are definitely cool with you being around as long as you’re working to “overcome” your issues by “letting Jesus have it.” When every issue is a spiritual one and they can just read the Bible and it should go away. And as long as we can all meet over coffee and they don’t have to deal with you crying, or being anxious, or fidgeting while you’re talking to them. But that’s not what Jesus did with the lady who touched his robe. He knelt down and talked with her. Just something I’ve learned that we can all do better – stop thinking that people are how they act. And sometimes we need medical care. That’s Jesus too. It’s just my job to show up and love. Not say how people need to be outright.

4) Jesus is LOTS of fun. 
Seriously. If you want to know that Jesus is fun, just try to get your brain to do something that it can’t. Usually it won’t work. But there’s always room to laugh. Everything doesn’t have to be straight laced and “perfect” to be absolutely wonderful. And sometimes the sheer unexpectedness of ADHD makes life lots of fun. I definitely see Jesus in new ways I wouldn’t have been able to before.

5) I cannot rely on my significant other to be my strength. But I can rely on Jesus. 
There have been lots of times when Ray wasn’t able to give me the attention that I needed because he just couldn’t. He didn’t try to be that way. He wasn’t a man that was just zoning out. He just couldn’t because his brain didn’t let him. And that was almost more annoying than just being able to blame someone. So I had to just go sit down with Jesus and let Him be who He was. And you know what? I’ve learned a lot about grace and Jesus’ love for me. And I’m so thankful for that.

6) Praying needs to always happen. 
ADHD has taught me to pray. And then pray some more. And some more. And some more. And to keep praying. And I’ll continue. Cuz it changes everything and makes the impossible possible. I prayed for healing for Ray. God sent me and taught me to be supportive and kind. Healing is happening.

—

I’ve learned tons, as we both have, but there’s a short version of what’s on the plate these days. We’ve been blessed to find some meds that work, and have been able to work through a lot of healing because of that medication slowing things down for us. And life is a lot less crazy. But I promise, there are going to be more crazy days. And those are going to teach me about Jesus, and love too.

I’m excited for that.

…because love wins.

I must dance. You must dance, too.

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She stands behind the curtain, looking at the piercing eyes in the crowd. She could back down, she could hide from the stares and the judgement, and the knowledge that she will inevitably mess up this routine. She will probably fall. It won’t be perfect. 

And they expect perfect. 

“Can I do this? Will my leg even hold out? I haven’t ever tried such a thing.” 

“Dance,” God says. 

“But how?” 

“Dance with me,” He says again quietly – strong. In a way that almost demands to be trusted. 

“No one taught me how. I can’t dance like everyone else.” 

“But you follow the beat I put in you. You need to dance. You’re My music.” He whispers. His eyes are strong – confident. 

“I can trust Him. He knows my steps,” she says to herself. 

—

Out she steps. 

Just alone out here. 

The music starts. 

A slow, gentle, beat, as she has learned like should be – slow and gentle. 

One step, and then another. Some quick steps. A magical spin under the moving orange lights. The air is crisp, and the audience silent. 

She starts to see the life events show up on the dance floor. 

A sick child – she floats to take his hand, and brings the music to him. Soon he is smiling a most magnificent smile. 

An illness in the family – she ducks for the challenge it is to get to that ill person, but finds that music unlocks the doors to stop her from helping. Healing comes in a brilliant soft white light.

Jobs, pain, rainy days – No need to face them. They resolve themselves as she floats around them and her light shine upon them fast. 

And it occurs to her – 

“I dance to my own life. That’s my own beat. I know exactly how to dance. My life is my dance. He made this. I cannot fail if I try.” 

—

God steps out onto one side of the stage, opposite of where she took her place. She sees those obstacles that are life between her and Him. But she also sees that wherever He steps, those obstacles minimize to a beautiful piece of the stage – highlighting her special steps in brilliant colors. Her favorites – making her dance more freely still. 

He guides her. A hand motion there, a step there. Pointing, carrying, dancing right along. 

She’s forgotten all about the people who were once her fear, and her eyes, heart, and soul, are locked with Him. 

—

The stage is now covered in the most beautiful flowers. Open paths. Wide spaces, where she is entirely free. The obstacles are gone. And as He spins her like she spun as a 2 year old, He gestures to the audience. 

She stops, and takes a step towards them. The lights come up on those faces. She gasps a soft breath. Every single one is someone who has come alive because of her dance. They were strangers at one time, but she now sees them all clearly. 

Best friends. Acquaintances. Used-to-be enemies. Mom, dad, kids, boyfriend.

Everyone someone she has danced into the life of.

This is her life. This is her stage. It’s important.

And it’s magnificent.

—

She beams, and takes a seat on the edge of the stage. God stands proudly and in a lovely way behind her. Tears fill her eyes. She didn’t know how to dance, she thought. She didn’t know where she would step, she thought.

“But He made the music in me know where to dance.”

“And it was the performance each of these souls needed to see to bring them to life,” He says.

—

And she knew from that point forward that our purpose in life is to dance. To dance, just as we know how. And we all learn together with each step. 

Our lives are His symphony.  

…because love wins.  

You just have to get up, get up, get up – you don’t have to change a single thing.

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Do they like you? 

Do you like you? 

…because love wins. 

Some learning about ADHD.

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I’ve decided that ADHD is worse than both depression and anxiety. I have also been able to see that not being close to someone who lives with a mental illness can make it very hard to understand what a mental illness even is. But I have learned that if you are close to someone with mental illness, you’ll learn a lot about the beauty of being human. Here’s why. 

Let me state this, as a follow up to my previous post – ADHD stinks. It’s up and down and triggered by all kinds of things. It involves the parts of the brain which need to be used to see problems. It’s like trying to process how to fix a machine through that broken machine, for the person living with it. Of course, this isn’t to say that people with ADHD can’t figure out life. But this is to say that some of them have to work way too hard to do that. 

Then there’s us. People who stand on the outside and see the symptoms of things:
Easily distracted. (Yeah, the shiny things jokes are funny for about 5 minutes, but not a lot after that.)
Wanting to be organized, and not being able to figure out why that’s challenging.
Lacking motivation (not that they don’t care).
Hard time understanding social cues and that being more surprising for them than others around them.
And anger. (I would be angry if I couldn’t understand what I was feeling or why I was too.)

If my brain wouldn’t let me see how I could get out of those things, I wouldn’t know that I was bound to live my life short of who I could be either. No one with ADHD is stupid because of it. They’re not awful. They may have developed some character difficulties, but I would have too. They’re wonderful, beautiful people. Who just happen to have a hard time fighting their own brain.

 

This has been a lot of learning about ADHD. And has me thinking I probably have a new passion to pursue in my life. 

…because love wins. 

Why ADHD is not a disorder.

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I love my boyfriend.

A whole lot.

When I met him, he talked a lot. I was really depressed and that was totally annoying to me because I couldn’t handle anything. Once, we went to lunch and he talked for the whole hour straight. I couldn’t make more than 3 sentences fit together, but he struggled to be able to make 3 sentences make sense together. I used to talk a lot too. (Haha. I still do sometimes.) So I kind of understood that. I had just gotten out of a relationship, as had he. So, we had lots of learning to do. And this clearly was not a good place to start another relationship. But there was something cool about that guy.

A couple months passed and we talked here and there. He was loyal, passionate, a dreamer, compassionate, and lively. And that’s awesome. Everyone loves that. He loved that too. And I love that. After a while, I could see that his mind always ran in 100th gear. I asked him if he ever thought of ADHD being a thing in his life. I knew a couple people with it before, but he managed really well. I could just see how tired he would get listening to his head go so fast.

So I started doing some more research. Yeah, totally could be it. I had just been treated for my depression and therefore found it hard to not be researching mental illness and how to be healthy. Fast forward a long ways, some more meds for us both, some new learning, some work and school adaptations, and here we are.

We’re not perfect by any means. We’ll tell you that. But we do understand each other pretty well. And we understand grace in new ways now. Ray can focus better, and learn things with more silence in his brain. And pay attention to me. And I’m not breaking down because he struggles to give me attention. And I have learned to be able to recognize when he does his best. And he, my best.

But the point of this post is to express that I don’t think “Attention Deficit  Hyperactivity Disorder” should be called a disorder. As I look around at the adults in my life, I see an awful lot of them that exhibit the signs of adult ADHD. They speak without thinking, they spend foolishly, they can get confused, and sometimes they can just be mean because they’re overwhelmed. And that’s pretty interesting to me. Because obviously in this society, we aim for order. And peace. And straight lines. But, that’s not always what everyone is.

Energy is suppressed rather than re-directed. They’re misunderstood and disliked because of the way they state things. They probably don’t understand some key life pieces because they couldn’t learn them when they were little. But that doesn’t mean they’re broken. That just means they’re different. So maybe people need to draw a picture rather than read a paragraph. Or maybe they have incredible insights into the world to share. That doesn’t make them broken.

I don’t love ADHD. Neither does he. But, we do understand it. And we do know that it’s a part of our life. The sooner we stop hating the person with the ADHD, the easier it is to work with and around the ADHD. Because I’ll tell you, ADHD means that that person has been through a lot in life…simply dealing with their own minds. And that means that they understand people beautifully. They may be right on the verge of helping someone else…or reaching their full potential. But they just need someone to pay attention long enough to show them how to pay their own attention.

My boyfriend doesn’t have a disorder. He’s got different abilities than I do. And he knows Jesus in a new way because of that. Because Jesus is still the king of all.

…because love wins.