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The shrill ring of the phone shocked me back to sanity. Automatically, I picked up the receiver. Habit demanded that I calmly whisper "Hello."
My best friend heard the silent scream in my voice. "Are you all right?"
"No. . . . "
"I'll be right over."
Statistics tell us that approximately one out of every ten North Americans will suffer severe depression during their lifetimes. That "one in ten" might include our fellow church members, neighbours, colleagues and friends. How can we prepare ourselves to help them?
1.Help the person identify the problem and seek help.
Depression can be the symptom of almost any disease. A thorough physical exam should be the first step.
Some people go to their doctors complaining of fatigue. Their energy and enthusiasm for life have evaporated. Often they refuse to believe the doctor when he diagnoses depression. "But I don't feel blue. I just feel tired!" the patient wails.
If the depression isn't produced by a physical problem, then other causes must be confronted. Some possible causes are: low self-esteem, learned behaviours, guilt, loss, suppressed anger, fear and loneliness. These causes are sometimes harder to face than physical ones.
2. Listen without judging.
When Conni, my Christian friend, arrived only moments after the phone call, I still stood in the sudsy water clutching my mop. As she came into the kitchen, I flung the mop onto the floor and yelled angry torrents of words against the injustice in the world--and I singled out Christians in particular for criticism. My frustration caused me to lash out at those who loved me the most.
Conni accepted my anger. She didn't lecture, admonish with Scripture or tell me about her problems. She silently hugged me. That one gesture told me she felt my pain and was willing to help me deal with it.
3. Give unconditional love.
The Bible tells us that God loved us so much that He sacrificed His Son in order to give us eternal life. Undeserving as we are, He still loves us that much. Conni demonstrated that kind of unconditional love. As I stood cursing life and accusing God, she didn't tell me I "should" do this or that. She simply loved me--~and waited for a time later on when I could talk rationally.
The worst part of depression, for me, was the feeling of total separation from God. After my angry outburst, guilt and defeat became my tormentors. Because of my hostile attitude, I believed God had every right to abandon me. As Conni and I sat together at my kitchen table, I clung to her unconditional love as my last thread of hope. Somewhere in the dark corners of my mind, I reasoned, "If Conni can love me, perhaps God can too."
4. Affirm the positive.
As days passed and my depression deepened, I became nearly immobilized with negative thoughts. When I awoke in the morning, I instantly began to weep. I didn't want to face another day of emotional pain. Merely getting out of bed and taking a shower seemed an insurmountable task. My mind refused to dwell on anything except my past mistakes and my probable future failures.
Conni called or came to check on me often. During one visit, I complained, "Conni, I've been married 20 years, and I still can't have dinner guests without burning something! Last week at the office, it took me two hours to find a letter I had misfiled. On top of that, my son got kicked off the school bus for starting a fight. I've even failed as a mother!"
Conni could have said, "Stop wallowing in self~-pity." Instead, she recognized my negative focus as a symptom of depression. She gently squeezed my hand and nudged my thinking toward the positive: "When Don and I come to your house, we look forward to your warm hospitality more than the food. You did find the letter, and the jury on your children is still out."
I responded, "Yes, but . . . " in order to deny her encouraging remarks. But later, when I sat alone, I recalled Conni's affirmation of the good she saw in me. Her kind words acted like little cracks in my dam of negative thinking.
5. Reject simple answers.
Why didn't Conni tell me "Pull myself together" or "You'll feel better after a good night's sleep" or some similar platitude? She hadn't dealt with such depressive emotions in her own life. How could she possibly have understood mine?
She read. Christian bookstores stock numerous books on depression written by Christian doctors and counsellors. She learned there are no quick, easy answers to depression.
Not wanting to be like Job's so-called friends, Conni took time to think about what she wanted to say to me. She tried to anticipate how I would respond. She didn't spend time telling me about the miracles God daily performed in her life. She knew I'd only feel further alienated from God if she talked about her victories in Christ.
Conni didn't give advice; she gave herself. She drove me to the doctor for an exam. She reminded me of my appointments with a counsellor. She invited me over for coffee and said, "Do you want to talk about it?"
6. Pray.
One fall day, we stood at Conni's front door watching the wind blow the red and gold leaves in tiny whirlwinds. I felt blown and tossed like those leaves, wondering if I, too, was falling to my death.
"Pauline," she interrupted my thoughts, "let's pray together, right now."
My prayer was no more than a sorrowful, "Oh Lord, where are You?"
Conni added, "Heavenly Father, help Pauline to once again feel Your presence in her life."
Driving home, I told my silent car, "God may not hear me, but I know He listens to Conni." I began to look for answers to my friend's prayer. I began to watch closer for God's presence. Tiny glimmers of hope began to flicker in my mind, lighting my first feeble steps toward recovery.
7. Meet practical needs.
Conni not only prayed with me and for me, but she also asked God to show her other ways to help me. She didn't stand around fretting, "What can I possibly do?" Instead, she started with the practical things in life: food, clothing, companionship.
Depressed people often forget to eat, or they tend to survive on junk food. Conni prepared nutritious meals to share with me, and took me out to lunch occasionally.
When I lost interest in my appearance, Conni bounced through my doorway with copies of clothing catalogues. Her enthusiasm over the new styles was contagious.
Because of my intense emotional pain, I became introverted. All I could think about were my own problems. Conni tried to redirect my thinking. She brought me newspaper articles (with the main points highlighted), her favourite music tapes and a couple of interesting books.
Conni opened her mind and heart to God's guidance for ways to help. She held my hand in faith as God did the healing.
The day Conni found me in my kitchen, soaked with mop water, I felt I was covered with the shame of my failure as a Christian. I believed that a "good Christian" doesn't get depressed. I was wrong. With the love of a caring friend, I discovered that I wasn't standing in the cold, dirty water of shame, but the warm, sudsy water of cleansing.
Through Conni, God met me in my pain, embraced me and led me to a closer walk with Him. II Corinthians 1:3,4 says that God comforts us so that we can comfort others. To me, that means listening for the silent screams of that one person in ten. It means following Christ's example, like Conni, and reaching out with love.
Pauline Ellis Cramer is a freelance writer from Challis, Idaho.
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