I concluded Part 1 with
the following:
Now!
What to write. First a goal. Be specific as possible; not just
“get better.” Perhaps something like “Research natural
remedies for depression” or “Research causes of depression.”
Put a completion date on it. If it is not dated, it will not get
done. [Just an aside: date everything you do. It helps when you
come across some random piece of paper and something on it triggers a
memory but there is no clue as to when.] Dating your notes or
journal will give you a time frame for the progress you make. Notes
made from internet searches also help. If you find yourself
searching every day with little real results, you know to change your
search criteria. If you only search once a month, either what you
are finding is working or you are not putting forth enough effort. If
the effort is 6 months apart, you really are not interested in
helping yourself or you are all better so stop reading and get a
pizza. If you make notes on what sites and what, if anything, you
used from them, you will not be repeating useless searches.
Sometimes
just getting healthier has a profound effect on the frequency and
length of depression episodes. You must take this on as a whole-body
transformation.
Since I wrote that I have
been thinking about situations in my life when life seemed unfair and
it made me sad or angry to be who I was.
There is something that I
figure every female on the planet has thoughts about and it bothered
me at various stages of my life – why am I female and what would it
be like to be male? When I was about 6 years old, I saw my baby
brother and wanted one of those; and it was not a baby. It was a
fleeting thought. Then, I went to school and the girls jumped rope,
played hopscotch and giggled while the boys played war and besides,
the girls did not like me once they got in their groups. I just did
not fit in. The boys, well, they thought it was funny that a 'girl'
wanted to play war, but every war needed a nurse and I was a front
line nurse during recess.
I managed to go home with
bows torn off, skinned knees and happy. It was in the first grade
that I met my best friend, Betsy. She and I came up with some crazy
ideas. We once held a play like we had seen the “Little Rascals”
do on TV. We got some of the neighborhood kids to watch. All I
really remember is sneaking my tutu out of the apartment so I could
wear it for our performance. We once went walking and found this
huge footprint in the hardened mud and imagined what it might be.
There was the swearing contest we had with one of the boys from
another school. We were at the top of this hill and he made some
nasty remark so we started cussing back. I did not want to use the
really bad words I knew, but he said something and I won. I
doubt he knew what they meant anymore than I did. Yes, we were quite
a pair. I think it was after the third grade that she and her family
moved. I did not understand. At 10 years old I really just did not
understand why things could not just stay like they were forever.
Her family was from Peru and that is about as much as I knew about
her and her background. I would love to know what she did with the
last 50 years.
Then there was science
and sports and it seemed that the boys got all the best assignments
and could play anything they wanted. And I thought if I were a boy
things would be so much better. When I graduated from High School, I
was refused admittance to the University of Virginia because I did
not want to be a nurse or a teacher. In 1967, there was still some
misplaced thought that women could not be nuclear scientists;
evidently they had never heard of Madame Curie.
When pregnancy became a
possibility, I once again wished to be a man to be able to sin
without that nasty side affect. Yes there were times throughout my
life when I wished I had been born as a male, but had I, at any of
those moments, taken that drastic turn to becoming in the image of a
man, there would have been so much I would have missed. My finest
hour was giving birth to my son. If I had to live every bit of my
misery over to give birth to that one child, I would gladly do it.
There is a trend in our
deranged society to encourage children as young as 4 to think toward
gender reassignment. Now, that is depressing. To
think that a child of 4 has the wherewithal to see all the options
and make that kind of decision. That simply shows the ignorance of
those who care for and are supposed to protect these growing minds.
There are better ways to handle little Johnny wanting to wear big
sister's tutu and wanting to be called Janie. For pity's sake, can
we not allow a child to grow up before we begin indoctrinating them
sexually with gender reassignment?
This world with all of
its sex and perversion; wars and rumors of wars; so many decisions to
make; and no GOD to help make them. There is nothing outside of
ourselves that the world has to offer to relieve the burdens that we
carry except more burdens in the form of drugs and therapy. And many
times the shrink has as many if not more problems than the patient.
We have more diagnosed forms of despair and depression than ever
before. Is it just through better diagnostics that these things are
being found or is the population as a whole that much more mentally
ill?
Probably so. Now that is
depressing. I have been thinking about the tribes who watched their
elderly walk away from the tribe and go to die in the woods.
Perhaps, they were not really walking off to go to die, they were
just lost and walking trying to find their way home and the elements
overtook them. After awhile it became the custom to leave when you
were too old to be of any use. Alzheimer disease perhaps? Dementia?
Just a thought.
Are we sicker than we
were or are there just better diagnostics? And what are the treatments?
Exorcism was popular with some societies and probably still should be
in some cases. I suspect that there are demons chasing each one of
us trying to gain entrance to wreak havoc and destroy us and those
around us. If GOD uses angels to protect us, HE must be protecting
us from something.
Then there are drugs.
Drugs wake us up; put us to sleep; keep us going; settle us down;
make us lose weight; make us gain weight; kill germs; keep us from
getting viruses; give us viruses; keep us alive; kill us; lower our
blood sugar; raise our blood sugar; lower our blood pressure; raise
our blood pressure; et cetera. And we gobble them down like breath
mints. Why? Generally because some doctor told us to do so. Doctors
are necessary. The Apostle Luke was a physician. They problem with
most doctors is that for them it is just a job, a J-O-B, nothing
more. I want it to be their calling. I want them to be
called to their profession just as a Preacher should be called.
Come to think of it, why are not all of us following a profession or
trade that GOD has made us to do?
I think I am back on
track now. GOD has made each and everyone of us for a specific task
and only in the workforce do I see so many miserable or halfhearted
people, because they are not following their hearts or following GOD
and doing what HE has created them to do.
We get depressed for one
of 2 reasons, situational or physiological. Situational, I can
understand and can offer suggestions. Physiological, not so much.
But I do suspect that even a portion of that can be controlled by
figuring out what vitamin or mineral or other nutrient your body is
missing that is not nourishing your brain and keeping it in balance.
Start keeping a diary.
If you already keep one, make it a point to note how you feel, what
made you feel that way – situation, food, person, etc. Start
watching your activity and see what you might be able to change that
will improve your point of view. Take a class and improve yourself.
Study Scripture and find out how great and wonderful GOD is and that
you do not have to carry the burden of the world on your shoulders:
HE already does that. It is nice to be a hero, but be one that you
can actually live up to. Be a woman or man of your word. Be
faithful. Be kind. Be at peace. Do good when you know it is to be
done.
He who knows to do good
and does not do it will always be in turmoil.
SHALOM!
Pray for the PEACE of Jerusalem!!
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