Down a Long, Dark Tunnel

The death of comedian and actor Robin Williams is “trending” in the news today and will be for the next few days.  It brought a few thoughts to my troubled mind.

One is that perhaps more tragic than his death is the way he died.  Though the details have not been fully disclosed, we are being told by the media that Williams most likely committed suicide after a long bout with depression. 
 

Experiencing that kind of deep depression is like driving down a long, dark tunnel with no visible light signaling the end.  It feels like “no hope”.  Period.  Nothing to look forward to.  No happiness.  No friends or loved ones to lean on.  Just darkness. 

 

This, of course, is a lie.  However, it’s just as real as the “truest of truths” to a depressed person.  I’ve been there and, believe me, there aren’t enough Hallmark cards on the planet to cheer you up!  It just hurts – from the inside all the way out. 

Depression doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to those on the outside of it.  They can’t see any logical reason for it and oftentimes they run from it and those suffering from it like it was some sort of black hole they themselves might get sucked into.   In short, people fear what they don’t understand. 

The tragic counter to that is that depressed people often isolate themselves from others because they don’t want to “scare them off” by sharing their feelings.  I call it “backing the dump truck up and unloading in someone’s front yard.” 

And oftentimes, well-meaning friends and loved ones try and offer advice or try to think of the right thing to say.  Truth is, sometimes there are no right words to say “on the spot,” but just “being there” can be key. 

 

I think depression is one of Satan’s greatest weapons in his arsenal of death.  He uses it to weaken, cripple and isolate his prey like a prowling lion on a wounded gazelle.  Then he can strike.  Unfortunately, like Robin Williams, suicide is often the end result and the wreckage it leaves in its wake is unfathomable to someone who’s never been through it. 

I was deeply depressed from age 13 well into adulthood.  Many times I was suicidal, thinking that if I died no one would miss me and the world would be a better place – lies many suicidal people tell themselves.  Fortunately, I was way too scared to follow through.  I called it:  “Too scared to die, but too weak to live” – a virtual “hell on earth” that probably saved my life.  It was a “God-thing” I can’t explain.  I just know He used it to save me from hurting myself and a lot of others. 

Here’s the point:  While we can’t cure depression, we can help.  People need to know they are loved, cared for and appreciated.  By God.  By their families.  By their friends.  They need to hear it – perhaps even when they can’t feel it.  It’s those expressions they draw from on the dark days.  Cards, flowers, letters, emails, Facebook messages, gifts – whatever we can think of to show we care.  Bob and I once had a friend come over in the hot summertime and mow our lawn to show how much he cared.  Now that’s love, friends! 

I have a drawer in my house that I think of as my “good memory” drawer.  It’s full of birthday cards, thank you cards, just-because cards, notes, Bible verses, drawings and photos that remind me that I’m loved. 

I’ve been relatively depression-free for years, thanks to the unconditional (and I do mean unconditional!) love of Jesus Christ and medication. Still, sometimes the blues come and one dark thought crosses my mind.  If I dwell on it, the thought becomes a train of dark thoughts and I start heading down that tunnel again.  All it takes is one bad day, friends -- sometimes only an hour.  Dark thoughts can become decisions.  Decisions can become actions, and those actions can destroy families and leave them with no way to make sense of what has happened.  The true tragedy is that if that if that person could just “hold on” the train passes through the tunnel and it’s daylight again!

 
That’s why I keep that “good memory” drawer – and my Bible – close at hand. 

Psalm 34:18 tells me that “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
   and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” 

There are many more verses like that one in Scripture to remind me.  Sometimes I need to be bathed in them.  Other times I need a Bible “with feet and a pulse.”

 Friends, you and I can be that “Bible” to a hurting loved one.  Is there someone you haven’t heard from in a long time?  Someone you haven’t seen on Facebook in a while?  Someone who was just isn’t their usual cheerful self at work this week?  Or maybe it’s someone you haven’t seen at church in a while.  Perhaps you’ve had a thought to “text them” or “message them”.  Or if you’re old like me – you’ve thought of picking up a phone to call them.  Then that thought, like many other thoughts, gets buried in busyness.

Don’t just think it – say it or do it.  And don’t wait for it to get buried.  People need to be able to “smell the flowers while they’re still alive” as I once heard someone say. 

And if you know someone who has taken their own life, please don’t blame yourself.  Suicide is a personal action taken on by the person who makes the choice to do it.  There is enough pain left in its wake already.  Don’t take on the pain of guilt.   You are not to blame. 

What happened to Robin Williams was tragic.  I’m sad about it like many of you.  I think he was a great actor, and by the accounts I’ve read from the news, he was a kind person and a good friend to many.  Who knows what thoughts were in his mind on that day, and perhaps no words would have changed the outcome.  In a few days the tide will turn.  Current events will be new and his death will be just a memory for almost everyone except those who were close to him.   
 
There is a lesson to be learned here.  Say what you meant to say.  Do what you meant to do. It may make a difference.  It will certainly be a deposit in someone’s “good memory” drawer.