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January 20, 2012

I come from a long line of people with slightly broken brain chemistry.  Having faith in God along with innate depression and anxiety makes for an interesting life.  I know he lifts me up to be functional.  But lately I’ve been wondering if I am meant to start taking medicine too.  I mean it’s available.  It probably works.  In many cases it permanently alters a person’s brain to be what it was supposed to be all along.

As an aside, I hate when people tell me to ‘get over it.’  Particularly Christians.  I know people generally mean well, but people’s bodies break down, physically and mentally.  They hurt, their bones and joints and veins and lungs and cells hurt.  Their brains don’t always do what they should.  Any worldview or faith that doesn’t accept this as fact is irrelevant from the start.

So I always thought maybe this was my thorn, you know.  Cause other than that I am a remarkably healthy person, more healthy than I have any right to be.  I can breathe deeply, I have no joint pain, I can sleep well most nights, I have no disabilities, no allergies, no major abnormalities, no chronic health problems.  I always just assumed depression was the thing I had to live with.  But depression and guilt and worry have a way of making you think you deserve whatever happens.  Even to the point where you’re scared to fix anything.  So it’s a catch-22 ya know.  Because I am depressed I somehow think I deserve to be depressed.

There’s a tinge of pride too, I guess.  People in this country are so over-medicated, and I like being someone who doesn’t take medicine, not even for a headache really.  I used to take a medicine that worked for me.  But I quit taking it because I convinced myself I was a changed person and didn’t need it anymore.  Looking back, maybe I did, and maybe things would have gone differently if I wasn’t so damn proud.  And lately I’ve been thinking, as far as weaknesses and flaws go, I’ve got quite a few that will never get better as long as this is crippling me.  And I’ve asked God to help me with this, but if taking medicine was the solution, I always refused to accept it.  Strange huh?  Right now I’m thinking, why let pride and contempt get in the way of a good thing?


It’s like the old joke.  I’ve probably told it before.  It’s kinda near to my heart.

There was once a man whose home was about to get hit by a hurricane.  His family and neighbors were fleeing and they asked him to come with them but he said, “no, God will save me.”

The rain comes and the flood waters start to seep into the home.  His friend drives by and begs him to leave.  He says, “no, I’m sure God will save me.”

The flood waters get higher so the man climbs up on his roof.  A boat happens to drive by and try to rescue him but he says “no thanks, God will save me.”

A storm whips up and the waves are crashing around his house.  A coast guard helicopter flies by and drops a ladder.  They attempt to rescue him but he refuses to go.  He says, “I still believe God will save me.”

The helicopter leaves and a huge wave sweeps the man away, and he drowns.  He gets to heaven and says, “God, I had faith in you.  Why didn’t you save me?”

God says, “what do you mean?  I sent a car, then a boat, then a helicopter!  What else did you need?”


Why was it so foggy before, and so clear now?  If I have a problem, and I know the solution to that problem, and it’s been provided to me, I wonder why I’ve been so resistant.  All these reasons I hide behind are sort of tumbling down.  With my job ending soon and lots of things changing along with that, maybe one less weakness is a no-brainer.

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