I Trust When Dark My Road

Good Friday is really about life for me. Two years ago Good Friday, I was sitting at home, preparing for my minimal role in services. I had been on disability for about 2 months, and things were going fairly well. I got a phone call from the people that handle disability claims at our insurance company. They were just calling to inform me that since I had shown “some” improvement according to my doctor, that they were taking me off disability.

This began a series of events that I can only describe as surreal. I began a downward spiral that brought be to being suicidal. It was a gift from God that we had the divine service that day, for without that, I don’t know what I would have been doing. My pastor stayed with me as much as possible. I was a zombie, barely conscious, yet fully believing that there was no way I could get out of this, no way I could recover from such a blow. If I didn’t have the time and space I needed to heal, then I would only get worse. What was the point?

But God is merciful.

I lived.  Somehow our Lord got me through the Great Three Days.   After Easter I went to stay with some dear friends for a couple weeks to rest and try to recover some level of sanity and normalcy.  Things got better.  It took a long time, with setbacks along the way and all kinds of other gunk to go through, but things did get better.

So Good Friday for me is about life.  It’s about that life God gives to each one of us.  It’s about the Life that was given for my life.   It’s about the gift of seeing my children grow up, having friends and family who care deeply for us, and it’s about the ongoing work that our Lord does to keep us in the faith all the days of our lives.  No matter how dark the road.

A blessed Good Friday to you.

-DMR

I have posted on the travails of shut-in call a number of times, specifically here, and here. I’m not sure if I’m a bad pastor or what, but I have just never really enjoyed shut-in calls. Really it is more the concept of shut-in calls that bugs me more than the reality of them. I generally like the people whom I visit and commune. I don’t have a problem with them. Really the difficulty lies in the emotional drain which may go along with the visit, as well as the time, etc.

So this morning I was faced with two competing avoidance issues: (continue reading…)

I’ve been off clonazepam for a week now, and things seem to be going pretty well. It seemed to help me in the past with stressful situations, excessive noise, and either visual or verbal clutter. After a week, I seem to be able to manage these things fairly well.

One of the signs for me that things were starting to resemble normalcy was Panera. I love Panera. Half of my sermons are written at Panera. But that has not been the case for some time. I just haven’t been able to handle the hustle and bustle one finds there. It’s really kinda driven me crazy.

So Monday I went to Panera, and after being there 45 minutes, I noticed that I wasn’t having the huge desire to run and hide. I know, that sounds a little silly, but it’s true. Sometimes victories may be found in very small things. Being able to drink a cup of coffee in peace, for example.

Hopefully getting of Welbutrin will go s smoothly. But we’ll try one step at a time for now…

-DMR

Read this GREAT POST on Anxiety and Identity. You’ll be glad you did.

-DMR

I hate it when that happens.

I hate it when that happens.

So I have now been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication for over two years. My current cocktail (zoloft/sertraline, welbutrin, and clonazapam) has been fairly steady for over a year. Things are going well for the most part, so I am starting to wean myself off of the medications.

The concept is both exciting and terrifying.

When I started taking all of this stuff, I was in a very desperate position. There were few options. It was medication or check myself into a hospital. I’m glad that I made the decision to go on this medication, as it has allowed me to live and regain some semblance of normalcy.

Having said that, there is no doubt that you also lose something by taking anti-depressants and anxiety medication. The lows aren’t nearly as low, but the highs aren’t as high, either. The anxiety medication makes it so that I don’t feel claustrophobic, but it also just makes you a little dulled to the world around you. I feel like I have been tired for two years, and that I don’t even remember what it is like to be fully awake.

I am excited to start the process of going off of them, but I’m also scared. They have served as a safety net for a long time. They are one of the earthly causes to my ongoing healing. I don’t want to go off of them, because I don’t want to go back to where I was. But I don’t want to stay where I am, either.

So there is the dilemma. I can’t stay where I am, but I can’t go forward either.

Well, actually I can. By the mercy of God, I can start this process of going off medication. The absolute worst thing that happens is that I go back it/them for a time. I am baptized. My inheritance is sure, and my future is as certain as Jesus’ death and His words, “for you”.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

-DMR

So I have now been on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety medication for over two years. My current cocktail (zoloft/sertraline, welbutrin, and clonazapam) has been fairly steady for over a year. Things are going well for the most part, so I am starting to wean myself off of the medications.

The concept is both exciting and terrifying.

When I started taking all of this stuff, I was in a very desperate position. There were few options. It was medication or check myself into a hospital. I’m glad that I made the decision to go on this medication, as it has allowed me to live and regain some semblance of normalcy.

Having said that, there is no doubt that you also lose something by taking anti-depressants and anxiety medication. The lows aren’t nearly as low, but the highs aren’t as high, either. The anxiety medication makes it so that I don’t feel claustrophobic, but it also just makes you a little dulled to the world around you. I feel like I have been tired for two years, and that I don’t even remember what it is like to be fully awake.

I am excited to start the process of going off of them, but I’m also scared. They have served as a safety net for a long time. They are one of the earthly causes to my ongoing healing. I don’t want to go off of them, because I don’t want to go back to where I was. But I don’t want to stay where I am, either.

So there is the dilemma. I can’t stay where I am, but I can’t go forward either.

Well, actually I can. By the mercy of God, I can start this process of going off medication. The absolute worst thing that happens is that I go back it/them for a time. I am baptized. My inheritance is sure, and my future is as certain as Jesus’ death and His words, “for you”.

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

-DMR

I’ve seen a number of comments about the ongoing anxiety of preaching. I know preachers who throw up before every service. I know preachers who haven’t loved it for years. Preaching, if it is done right, is profoundly self-exposing. Preachers who know their people must know themselves, the depths of their own sin. These who preach to their congregation best probably preach to (sometimes against) themselves first.

So what does this mean for the preacher who has a mental illness like generalized anxiety disorder or clinical depression? Therein lies the rub. (continue reading…)

One of our gentle writes asked me to write a little about meditation vs. medication. If you read much in the way of comments here, you will find that many of the readers here have a much lower view of pharmacology and medication that I do. That’s okay, I can take the heat.

One does not have to do much research to discover that there is a whole field of study on the relationship between meditation and depression. Some of the articles I found after a quick search are HERE, HERE and HERE. One of the things we have to establish is what is really meant by meditation.

Meditation can mean everything from yoga, visualization techniques, Cognitive Therapy (my personal favorite), and a world of other types of meditation that may or may not have a religious element to them. Probably the common element among them is using some method to cleanse or clear the mind, to focus on one thing, and through this process to change one’s thinking. I won’t claim to be an expert on non-Western forms of meditation, but I know just enough to be dangerous.

Here are a few preliminary observations from a Lutheran perspective:

• Evaluate whether the technique works within the framework of a religious system that is contrary to Christianity. Some types of meditation are benign; others have a totally skewed view of human spirit (usually a variation on denying original sin). Does the form of meditation have aspects of it that just don’t sit with the theology of the cross? Is meditation seen as a way of supplanting prayer?
• What are the expectations of the writer/teacher/guide who is leading the meditation? If there is talk about being a disciple of a certain form, I would start to get nervous.
• Does the form have history, is it established and recognized at least at some level by professionals in different fields? While this isn’t absolutely necessary, if something is written off as complete quackery, it may be because it is.

My therapist has used and is a proponent of cognitive therapy or cognitive reframing. We have also used some basic relaxation techniques to help deal with anxiety. I’ve found them both to be extremely helpful. Are they THE solution? No? Can they replace medication and other means of help? Not for me. If you don’t have the energy to get out of bed, it is very difficult to imagine having the energy to meditate, no matter how relaxing or liberating it may be. I can know something is good for me and still not be able to do it.

Anyway, those are a few initial thoughts. What are yours?

-DMR