Tag: TheSouthernNut

Depressed and Disappearing

~ gannebassett ~ 1 Comment

The report of Robin Williams death from suicide rocked the world.

Depression sucks.

Too many people find it easy to pass judgment, making shameful accusation and calling the victims of depression “cowards” for taking the easy way out. Anyone who has walked the path of depression knows every step takes courage. You don’t wake up sad one day and say “I’m sad, I think I’ll commit suicide.” It’s a long journey of weight and pain and melancholy. It’s an hourly battle that never lets up; a fight with a dragon whose talons are so deeply imbedded in your skin every move creates a deeper cut.

Robin made people laugh. He was generous with his time and his heart and his gift. He chose to put others before himself most of the time. That’s not an uncommon approach. Helping others gets your mind off the pain for a few minutes at least. But in the darkness of night the demons are restless. In the quiet places, there’s a cacophony of hate and shame. In the mundane tasks of life, there is a rhythmic pounding of a pressure cooker in the soul. The silent places are torture chambers for the depressed.

I was never a depressed person. I had moments of sadness, sometimes even melancholy, but for the most part I had a faith that carried me into a space of peace. I had my faith, I believed in myself, I made people laugh: it helped me rise above circumstance.

But earlier this year I had thoughts of suicide.

A few days after my birthday, during a long drive home, I internally collapsed beneath the pressure. Too long carrying the burden, too long alone, too many life blows and relational disappointments, a failed support system: I was too weak to take another step.

Clinical depression and situational depression are two very different entities, but the emotional distress and the altered vision is often very similar. Both situational depression and clinical depression share a common bundle of symptoms: Feeling the blues, loss of appetite or increased appetite, change in sex drive, trouble sleeping, lack of energy, apathy, problems concentrating, feelings of guilt, physical pain, agitation, feelings of hopelessness. However, the length of time for situational depression symptoms usually coincide with the duration of the stressful event(s).

This is where it becomes difficult for the long-term unemployed.

You see, situational depression is quite normal for the unemployed, but it is important to note, the unemployment itself is often only one of MANY stressors causing depression. Life happens regardless of job status. There will still be problems with the children, there will still be deaths in the family, miscarriages, and accidents; natural disasters and the world economy will still create anxiety and fear. Ironically, some of the most common stressors that bring about situational depression often accompany long-term unemployment, such as relational strife, divorce, loss of income, failure of goals, loss of self-esteem and physical illness.

The normal response is to grieve over these situations, knowing the depression will typically remit once the stressors are no longer present, or it will decrease as one learns to cope with the disturbing situation. For the long-term unemployed, the stressor doesn’t go away, it remains a catalyst for more stress, for more symptoms and more situations. Normal coping mechanisms, such as exercise, good diet, taking a break from negative input, and changing your world view, simply do not work. Coping takes a backseat to survival.

The job hunter faces rejection every day, hopelessness every day, judgement and shaming every day. Lack of income results in limited food options, and the pervasive sadness makes exercise almost impossible. This kind of situational depression is very debilitating, and all too common for the long-term unemployed.

So on that long drive home, I thought about accidental death, which would be easier for my family to mourn, would relieve their burden and certainly end my pain.

I found myself dictating a letter to my family and friends. I was angry at myself for planning it, ashamed I’d sunk so low. Those emotions only fueled the defeat. I just wasn’t strong enough to go on. I was tired, exhausted, bone weary from a journey that had me traveling the river Styxx, battling giants and demons and Satan himself. It hadn’t been a brief detour. It hadn’t been a small mishap down the mountain, or a pothole in the road. It had been years of one blow after another without any time to heal or recover. I had been bleeding out, hemorrhaging internally, and now I had gone into shock. My systems were no longer working properly, and I was alone.

When I had felt the weakness overtaking me, I had reached out for help. It wasn’t easy. It’s never easy to be so humbled; it’s never easy to admit you’re broken. I wasn’t asking for monetary assistance. I have never asked for that. I know that without a job, without an ongoing plan of action, any financial assistance is just using a teaspoon to ladle the water from a sinking ship. So, when I reached out, I was asking for an ear, a shoulder, perhaps even a creative brainstorming session. Mostly, I just needed hope.

I wanted to make certain I was concise with my words; my humor has a tendency to hide or override the severity of what I am feeling. I told my small group of friends: “I’m not doing well; I can’t take any more; I’m breaking.” I tried to be clear it wasn’t just the job loss, or my mother’s illness and death, or the miscarriage, or even the loss of friends. It was the systematic breaking down of hope and faith and self-worth. Five years of life-altering events. One was enough to justify grief and depression. The compounding events were crushing.

Comfort didn’t come as expected. Life has a way of bringing biting flies, stinging scorpions, and vicious scavengers before a good Samaritan can arrive.

I remember the Saturday I received a call that proved to be that start of a new blow. I was placed in an impossible situation. In the end I had to remove all emotion and view the situation from a lens of honesty and integrity, in truth and obligation.

When I hung up the phone, feeling trapped and defeated, I knew I’d done the only thing I could do. The wheels were already in motion: evidence had been viewed, and action was already being taken. Denying, hiding and protecting would only ensure I would be sucked into the storm as well. It would devastate me.

As it turned out, the chain of events that followed almost did. You see, the day-to-day dramas and annoyances feel insurmountable when you carry the lead skin of depression. Personal attacks, faulty assumptions, accusations, gossip, social freeze-outs: these are intermittent storms of destruction to an already beat and battered emotional landscape. People rarely understand this aspect of the long-term unemployed experience. The things considered trivial, small pebbles thrown at the “average” person, are crushing boulders to the long-term unemployed.

I felt like Wiley Coyote, crushed beneath the Acme weight and a mountain of rubble and debris. The world moved on: Beep! Beep! It would continue to move on.

After the long drive, I walked in the house and looked through the mail, numb but resolved.

The box I opened that day would change everything.

To Be continued

How It Happens: The Downward Spiral Part 2

~ gannebassett ~ 1 Comment

Your realtor tells you to talk to a lawyer who specializes in foreclosures, who can advise you properly. She has the name of someone who’s helped quite a few of her clients.

How will you ever pay for a lawyer?

You call and leave a message, then wait the nail-biting two days for a response.

The mortgage company is still jerking you around about the loan modification papers, asking for clarifications, letters and signatures to back the information that has already been certified.

And they continue to return your payments.

You talk to your roommate, guilty and sad that it is going to affect him, too. It doesn’t matter that he knew the situation going in, that you kept him abreast of the job search and the uncertainties you were facing. You still feel like you’re letting him down.

You start cleaning house. There are things you don’t want to risk losing. Mostly your mother’s things. You stopped being sentimental about your own things when you were forced to start selling them to make ends meet.

But her life mattered. Her memory matters.

Remembering how she loved you, believed in you brings more shame.

What a disappointment you are.

And yet even now you hear her voice. She would never be ashamed of you. Not even now. You know beyond any doubt, her love for you never wavered. She would cherish each shattered piece of you. It somehow brings comfort.

People tell you to be strong, go to church, stand on the Word. Some pray, some cross their fingers, some send good wishes. Mostly people feel afraid because they don’t know what to say, so they disappear. You’ve been there before; it’s not an unusual response. The friends who say “I don’t know what to say” then talk you to distraction are a relief. For a few moments, you can feel normal. For a few minutes you have a place.

The lawyer says to take a deep breath, it’s going to get worse before she can step in and hopefully make it better. There are no guarantees.

You’re barely treading water. That means you’re going under. The “deep breath” is good advice.

She has a plan, though. You have no choice but to trust her.

Trust is hard. Faith is harder. You remember when they use to be so much a part of your being it felt like they were part of your name. That was years ago. Before the disappointments. The miscarriage. The loss. That was before death had taken its toll and life had pummeled.

“If you need to talk…”

You don’t want to talk about it. You don’t want to think about it anymore. But it’s taken over your mind.

The light is getting dimmer every day. You’re not sleeping well and it’s hard to get out of bed. But you force yourself. You have to move. You have to keep trying, keep pushing. That’s what’s expected; that’s what you do. You may fail at life, but it won’t be because you slept through it.

More phone calls. More applications. More resumes. The only thing darker than the black hole of the job search is the black hell inside. That’s where demons reside. They have talons of humiliation and fangs of shame. They peck and bite and sneer. They mock you for believing you have something to offer, for thinking you still have value.

“Being hopeless won’t get you a job.”

“You need to think positive.”

“Every day is a new opportunity and you’ve got be be excited to embrace it.”

You feel the bitter shroud closing over you. The cliches are slaps when you need a soothing touch.

A friend from France calls. She sounds happy just to talk to you. You cling to the knowledge that it’s real. She’s too blunt to patronize. Besides, she happily gives you hours of her time. She doesn’t have to.

Another makes contact to tell you people only speak the best of you. She insists you are more than the circumstance.

You wish the voices across the ocean could mute the voices in your head. The ones that say “People are talking about you.” You can sense it, feel it in every interaction, see it in their pity-filled eyes, hear it in the judgmental counsel.

You find yourself raging on the inside, desperate to be free, to have the chains of bondage broken.

You think about the homeless you’ve seen under the bridges and along the sidewalks; their animated talks make sense now. A frightened soul can’t stay silent; a broken heart needs a voice to survive.

Your voice carries a pen. So you write.

This is how it happens.

Quickly, but in slow motion. Each step to the gallows accompanied by whispers.

I understand.

Today I gave John my granola bar. He’s a veteran, and homeless. For a little while, the voice he heard was mine. I hope he heard: “You matter.”

Click here for Part One: http://wp.me/p3HHLR-9g

The Caregiving Resume Gap

~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

They tell you to be honest when addressing gaps in your resume. Specific to caregiving, explain to the hiring manager why you made the decision, and assure them that the necessity has ended.

People are confused by caregiving. They see it as a noble effort; they respect you for the decision. They even admire the character that drove you to such selflessness. Sadly, many people still see themselves placing their parents in senior-living homes because the responsibility seems just too impossible.

In the end however, most hiring managers still see the justifiable gap in your work history as a negative. Being out the workforce for a long period has resulted in irrelevance, even if you’ve maintained certifications, taken courses and worked to stay abreast on industry news. It’s as if people see the caregiving experience as inconsequential.

It’s clear there is a general ignorance surrounding the work and skills involved in caregiving.

* Scheduling (multiple doctors, PT & OT, medicine)
* Biohazard clean-up and control
* Insurance negotiation
* Accounting
* Research
* Advocacy
* Professional corresponeance and reporting

These are transferable skills that are fundamental to any number of jobs and careers. So many people don’t seem to understand it goes beyond holding hands and providing emotional support, though I’d be lying if I didn’t admit this was the most meaningful aspect for me.

I can talk about the experience and the skills I developed during my time as a caregiver. I can use them in my day-to-day life; I can advise others. I can feel confident that I have grown and developed both personally and professionally. I can also watch people sit with eyes wide in shock and horror as I detail the battles, celebrate victories and acknowledge lessons learned. None of that matters as much to me as the memory of my mother’s hand caressing my cheek and thanking me for loving her so much.

I became long-term unemployed during my time as a caregiver. I have been penalized ever since.

The prejudice and stereotype surrounding the long-term unemployed is humiliating. It undermines who you are, diminishes your value and significance, and attempts to discredit the very real and valid experiences that brought you to this place. The real shame is on a system that places more importance on a resume timeline above character, a professional title above heart and perseverance, and experience at a corporate task above experience on the front lines of a battlefield. And make no mistake, caregiving and patient advocacy is a war. I hope you are never drafted.

Coke: The Meaning Behind the Song

~ gannebassett ~ 1 Comment

Oh, the outrage over a Coca-cola commercial!

It’s almost deafening. And yet with everything being said, it becomes more obvious how a political agenda can totally blind you to truth and prevent you from seeing even the most basic point.

In 1971, Coke released a commercial that changed the face of television advertising. It was candlelight. A light shared, one by one it spread, from one race to another, as the children of the world sang “I’d like to teach the world to sing.” The camera panned out to reveal this multicultural group actually formed a human Christmas Tree, the symbol of hope and joy. That was the song they sang: a hope for a home furnished with love, the joy of a world living in harmony. It was a song of peace that echoed in the voices of a people standing hand in hand.

To this day people remember that commercial. They remember the song and the chill that raced down their spine at such a beautiful sentiment. This melting pot we called America, a people of immigrants from every nation of the world, brought together through a common vision and a common dream, understood it wasn’t about race, color or creed. It wasn’t about religion or politics…or even language. It was about peace.

Last Sunday Coca-cola released a follow-up commercial, 43 years later. In this commercial the dream was not only still alive, it had become a reality. In this commercial, the world sang in perfect harmony. They sang in their language, from their history and perspective, from their hopes and dreams, from their home of love.

You see, the dream was never about teaching the world to sing in English. It was never a song of assimilation; it wasn’t even a song of patriotism. It was a love song.

For those who viewed this commercial and understood, a new chill raced down their spines.

“I’d like to teach the world to sing…”

They did it.

Today the world sang, and the song was America The Beautiful.

Perhaps Coke got it right again. What the world wants today is America the Beautiful, not the America lost in political agendas and self-righteous fighting.

Maybe, just maybe, if we could stop the fighting and listen, we could hear the world singing in perfect harmony: “…And crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea.“

I Am The Master of My Choice

~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

Do you believe in fate or self-determination?

I don’t believe in Fate.  It implies a lack of power and choice, an inevitability that cannot be stopped, slowed or redirected.  If fate is real, why do we even try?  What’s the point of thinking and analyzing, of taking any steps at all?  Fate will place you where you are predestined to be no matter what you do.  Why even work for a civilized society, offering justice and punishment, if the criminal is only a victim of fate, predetermined to play his part in the way destiny unfolds?

I know this is an extreme vision of fate. Yet doesn’t the very definition promote this scenario?

Fate
[feyt], noun
1. something that unavoidably befalls a person; fortune; lot: It is always his fate to be left behind.
2. the universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed; the decreed cause of events; time: Fate decreed that they would never meet again.
3. that which is inevitably predetermined; destiny: Death is our ineluctable fate.
4. a prophetic declaration of what must be: The oracle pronounced their fate.
5. death, destruction, or ruin.

Fate means never having to say you’re sorry.  Whatever happens, “it’s just my lot”; whatever I do or don’t do, destiny will fulfill itself.

It’s similar to the religious ideology of the sovereignty of God, which is the teaching that everything is under His direct control, and nothing happens without his direction or permission.  The idea appears simple: God is God, of course He’s in control.  Yet, it goes against the fundamental teaching surrounding the character of God and His overall purpose of creation.  He gave man (and woman) the right to choose because only within that freedom could an authentic love relationship be possible.  After the fall, He provided guidelines, tools, knowledge and experiences that would help man draw back into His grace, that would allow man to walk in His power and the purity of His love.  But it still involves choice. God is only sovereign if you allow him to be sovereign in your life, and even then people, circumstances and events that have not submitted to that sovereignty can have a negative impact on your experience.

The extreme sovereignty of God ideology assumes God not only has the power and right to govern all things, but that He does so, always and without exception.  Within this doctrine a person should accept that murder, rape, molestation and other horrid crimes must be from God if you are walking in His will.  But if God is love, and His character does not abide or tolerate any such sin, how can those acts be of God?  How can sickness and crime be His will?  To accept the truth of God’s character (the greatness, goodness, holiness, justice, light and love outlined throughout the old and new testaments) in conjunction with our experience here on earth, we must also accept that his sovereignity is limited by our own decisions, not just personally or independently, but as a people.

The Fate ideology is in complete opposition to self-determination.

Self-de·ter·mi·na·tion
[self-di-tur-muh-ney-shuhn, self-], noun
1. determination by oneself or itself, without outside influence.
2. freedom to live as one chooses, or to act or decide without consulting another or others.
3. the determining by the people of the form their government shall have, without reference to the wishes of any other nation, especially by people of a territory or former colony.

The self-determination ideology assumes we are the masters of our fate; we are the gods of our destiny. Whatever challenges we face, whatever comes our way, we are in control of the final outcome.

Ironically, the original idea of self-determination was more about the right of a people more than an individual creed. It was about independence, colonization and government. It was later used to expound the virtue of the human spirit, the unconquerable soul, the inevitability of the human experience to rise above defeat as a phoenix from the ashes.  But, somewhere along the way, a single refrain from Invictus evolved into an ideology of hope and strength for the individual.  In adopting a personalized definition, the limitations that would govern the principle were removed.  Now the idea of self-determination brings with it an illusion of control, and yet one embraced by many.

It’s a bit farfetched to think we possess the control to overcome all restrictions to our freedom.  I mean, we obviously cannot do anything we are physically incapable of doing.  Obviously we cannot change the past, of breathe underwater without any supplemental support, or any number of things we aren’t physically designed and capable of doing.  We can’t break laws of nature by our free will alone.  There are forces that demand our submission in the natural world and in our physiological make-up.

I think there’s more of a middle road here.  I believe it’s called “soft-determinism.”

I believe there are natural laws of the universe and powers at play that can easily be perceived as fate. There’s no way around them, and as hard as we try, they cannot be ignored. We are bound to live within the boundaries and confines of these universal laws and powers.

I also believe there is both good and evil present in the world. Although divinely separate, they do touch and intermingle, providing lights and shadows to every circumstance. This is why you can actually make all the right moves and make all the right decisions and still end up in the wrong place. It explains why people who make poor decisions seem to still obtain so many rewards, and why bad things happen to good people. It sounds like a simplified, catch-all proposition to answer all of the unknowns, and yet the evidence supports this basic premise.

What’s more, I believe we not only have free will, but we have a certain amount of dominion within the boundaries of natural law.  There are moral and ethical codes at play within society that will unconsciously restrict, conform or direct some of our decisions, but in the end we do have the right and responsibility of choice.  In fact, the act of not making a choice is a choice in itself.  Does that mean we have control of our destinies?  I don’t think so.  We can control our responses to what is not within our control.  We can develop and nurture our knowledge and skills to be able to make better choices. And we can be accountable for the consequences of our choices.  We cannot however, control the outliers that will inevitably cross the path of choice.

A destiny that is impacted by choice, and a choice that is limited by destiny, results in a middle ground philosophy.  Perhaps not a popular opinion, but it is mine.  We do what we know to do, and when we know better we do better.  We prepare and try to understand our universe; we submit to the natural and God laws, and we do our best to discern good from evil.  Our fate won’t be guaranteed anymore than our self-determination will be confirmed, but we will have a good chance at building a life we can respect.

In the end, I am only the master of my choice.

An Unfinished Life or A Life Undone?

~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

Is there something in your life you want to do, but remains undone?

Well, of course.  Every good procrastinator can look around and see a ton of things left undone.  Anyone with a bit of ADHD can point out all of the unfinished projects littering their lives and reminding them of their propensity for distraction.  For that matter, anyone with a busy life will complain of things they just don’t have time to finish.  We are a people undone!

But, I wonder how many things in our life that remain undone are actually important in the big picture.

The room unpainted? The basement unfinished?  The leaky faucet that still drips?  These are temporary appeasements.  They will add comfort and satisfaction, or perhaps even make our current situation a little better, but they are not of much importance in our greater purpose.  These are simply the everyday reminders of imbalance.

Perhaps it would be something more along the lines of starting that business you’ve been thinking about, or writing that book you’ve been wanting to write.  Those are more lofty unmet goals that deserves a bit of mourning.  Yet, they don’t resonate with life-affirming importance, either.

What of the “bucket list,” those things we seek to do before we die?  Skydiving?  Sailing on the Mediterranean?  Hiking in the Amazon? A spiritual journey through the Holy Land? The grand adventures of experience and travel that line the pages of our mind.  These activities are fulfilling in their own right, but again, lack true emotional or spiritual significance in the big picture.  Our bucket lists are often a reflection of the selfishness conspicuously absent in the dying.

It’s not easy to think about what would matter if you were facing death.  I remember reading a book with my friends about living life as if you only had 30 days left to live.  It pointed out that perspective changes when you know your time is limited and it posed the question(s): what would you do?  What would you change? What would suddenly become meaningless and what more important?  The idea was to remember that we all have limited time on earth; we forget and/or take time for granted.  But if we were to start living life as if we were dying, wouldn’t we make decisions with more clarity? Move with less hesitancy? Approach each other with a more open heart?

It’s not a new idea; the self-help aisles of bookstores are lined with books reminding us to live each day to the fullest.  I found the discussions in our little group somewhat amusing given this particular book was not just a self-help guide, but a kind of spiritual counseling.  Instead of reinforcing church doctrines, it challenged them.  It seems for many of us, some of the rules and ideologies for living a Godly life wouldn’t be as important if death was knocking.  The freedom to embrace all that life has to offer in the limited time available would sometimes involve appreciating things that may be in direct contrast to religion, shedding the restrictions and walking in a very basic understanding of love, peace and simple joys.

You see, in the end, the things left undone in life that will matter, the things you will strive to repair or resolve, are the open issues of the heart.  It will be less about projects and tasks, or travel and exploration; it will not be about preaching and teaching, or arguing and debate. Who’s right and wrong won’t matter as much as the goodbye and the legacy of love left behind.

I think when asked what thing I want to do that remains undone, it’s not just a question of to-do lists or unrequited dreams.  It’s about addressing the disappointments and hurts, the failures and unfinished business that burden my heart above any physical, financial or mental limitation.

Harold Kushner once said “I am convinced that it is not the fear of death, of our lives ending, that haunts our sleep so much as the fear that as far as the world is concerned, we might as well never have lived.”  Our real legacy is rooted in relationship, in the memories and love of those left behind.

So I think of who needs to be forgiven? Who I need to ask for forgiveness?  Who needs to know I love them? I admire them?  Who needs to hear why they are special?  Whose life could I touch for the better with a simple act of kindness?

What are the things left undone that prevent you from living passionately and loving completely? It’s not what’s you didn’t do, or didn’t experience, or what’s missing from your life that is important.  It’s the “undone” in the life you currently live that really matters.

What is left undone that would result in a truly unfinished life if you don’t address it?

Maybe it’s time to take action.