image from here
This morning, while she was getting ready for work, my wife noticed that I hadn't got up. That I had my face buried in the pillow. I was pretty tired - its been a strange week or so - and she wondered. She paused a moment longer than normal and stated at the part of my head that was exposed. She asked. She asked how I was; how I really was. Fortunately, I'm just tired. But she knows she needs to ask, knows the signs, knows the possibilities, knows that because I've suffered from depression in the past, its worth keeping an eye out. By the Grace of God sleep I...
Today, apparently, is World Mental Health Day. There is a particular focus on schizophrenia - something I don't personally struggle with, though I know folk that do - but it is an effort to bring to light themes of mental health education, awareness, and advocacy. One particular campaign I've watched emerge with interest (my cousin is involved and invited me to 'like' their Facebook page) is the aptly-titled 'When Will You Ask?'. The premise of this campaign is simple - think. And, if it looks or seems or feels or sounds like a friend or relative of yours is struggling, ask. Ask them how they are. How they really are. For a number of months, when I was quite severely depressed, asking how I was seemed unnecessary, the fact I was out of school and not saying much meant that my depression was the elephant in the room. But, actually, being asked meant I could speak, could cry, could rage, could complain, could wonder. Asking someone how they are, no, really how are you, can be powerful. Go on. Ask. I love this image from the 'When Will You Ask?' website - it rings true for me, and illustrates the power that cartoons and images can have in helping us explore questions of mental health:
You see, the reality is that mental health problems - of which depression (in its various forms and strengths and permutations) is the most common, perhaps - are incredibly real and incredibly costly. I could talk at length about the economic cost, but this article gives a clue (a £100+ billion clue). The real cost, I think, is personal and 'intangible'. Folk with depression can withdraw from family, friends and workplaces. Individuals with schizophrenia can feel like a burden, lose touch with reality, and affect the lives of those around them. I could go on. Perhaps one of the worst costs of mental health can be a human life. Suicide is something that is rarely talked about, rarely thought about, yet is a serious killer. In reading for an essay for my MA in Theology, I found that if events continue, by 2020 approximately 1,530,000 people globally will end their own lives. Many more will try. I think suicide is an incredibly complex issue - but at the end of the day it is a costly thing. The effect on those left behind is sever - though not as severe as the death of the person suffering. If you are reading this, and have suicidal thoughts, please keep reading. Talk to someone. Click on some of the links at the bottom. Please don't do it. Suicide has a stigma attached to it - in part because of some false religious ideas and un-educated understandings - which echoes the stigma attached to suffering from mental health problems in general.
This word, 'Stigma', is an important one. The definition is pretty straightforward:
"A mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person"
The reality is problematic. The stigma associated with mental health, particularly with things like depression and suicide which some foolishly associate with weakness or laziness, is very real, and very problematic. Yet this stigma can be overcome, and, I think, must be overcome. We need to talk about the reality of mental illness - we've touched on that above - as well as share stories of people who have moved through it, and the stories of those who remain stuck in it. People don't tend to judge those who break their arm, or end up with pneumonia, because we understand that such impairments are a result of bits of our bodies getting broken, wonky, or weakened. Mental health is exactly the same. The brain, rather than being something special, is actually just another bit of our body. It gets worn out, bashed about, wonky, weakened. The stigma of mental health is a symptom of a deeper problem in our culture - 'hypercognivity', the obsession with intelligence and rationality as being fundamental to who we are - when in reality, mental health is an expected part of our broken but beautiful world.
I've hinted, thus far, at the impact that faith and theology might have on a discussion of mental health. For me, my faith is incredibly important, and theology has provided an avenue to explore some of the big questions around mental health, the character of God, and what it means to be human. I remember being told by a psychiatrist at school that he couldn't understand why I didn't give up my faith amidst the black cloud/dog of depression - and my answer wasn't profound. I think it is a brilliantly human form of proud self-justification that we 'cling' to God, and can reach out to him. I believe the reality is radically different - that we are helpless, and yet he reaches out to us and embraces us as a Father. In the midst of darkness, he brings light, even if we can't see it. My experience was that, even in the midst of curling up in wardrobes, crying daily, shouting at parents, and watching Top Gear on repeat (don't ask), God was there. Present. Real. Loving. God didn't 'fix' my depression - I'm longing for heaven where he promises there will be no more tears - but he showed me that life is more full and colourful and deep and wonderful than I could have imagined.
This last, then, is the reality of mental health. I think that mental health struggles force us to ask questions. That is a big thing. We must ask our friends and family how they are - because we love them, and care for them, and because no-one might have asked before. But I think we also have to ask ourselves some questions. Big questions. Uncomfortable questions. Questions about who we are, how we got here, where we are going, and what life to the full looks like. I want to end this post on this: God has infinitely more for you than you might imagine, and loves to meet you in your tears. Mental health is complex - it can't be reduced to trite challenges about prayer or spirituality, or simplified to medical processes (though I think that medication, counselling and medical professional's advice is vital), and it certainly shouldn't be linked to sin. The God who met me in the darkness is a God of healing - and also a God of comfort, of presence, of patience, of love, of far more than a simple fix. As hinted at above, I'll close this post with links and resources and book reviews and so on, but I want to ask with the question that is the title which I think is really important:
When Will You Ask?
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As regular readers will know, this is a topic very close to my heart, so I've posted about this sort of thing before. The main post is 'Christianity and Depression', which is probably my best overview. I've also shared a poem I wrote about my own experience of depression, as well as a challenge to the church on this very issue.
I'm a huge fan of books, and on this seldom-discussed topic I'm glad to say that there are some great books to read. I'd especially recommend 'Encountering Depression' by two Christian GP's, as well as Pastor John Piper's 'When the Darkness will not lift'. You might also find helpful 'A New Name' about eating disorders, 'The Big Ego Trip' about self esteem, and Henri Nouwen's powerful but short 'Turn My Mourning into Dancing'. As a weighty and in-depth Christian approach, you could try Ed Welch's 'Depression: Looking Up from the Stubborn Darkness'
Finally, a few other resources. As I said, if you are contemplating suicide, I'd encourage you to ring the Samaritans or talk to someone you know, or, if you are unable to that, perhaps read this. From a Christian perspective, I've appreciated the work of Will van der Hart, and others, over at 'Mind and Soul', which is a website packed full of helpful stuff. Will, who is currently Pastoral Chaplain at HTB Church, had a great interview with Christian Today after the death of Robin Williams, which I'd recommend reading here. If you'd like to explore the complexities of 'stigma' and what it might mean for Christian identity, then check out a recent conference paper I wrote... You might also like to check out 'TWLOHA', whose work I wrote about here.
Great article. Thank you for sharing and also for sharing the resources.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Doug, for reading and commenting.
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