Pondering Depression

Look up melancholy (the adjective) in your collegiate dictionary. (You do have one, right?) It's ok. I will wait while you go do that. I will be here, filing my nails. ....You're back? Did you see the synonyms list? Mine says they are "depression, dejection, gloominess." I have the World Book Thorndike Barnhart Dictionary here. Under definition number 3 of the noun melancholy it says: "one of the four humors, thought in ancient and medieveal physiology to be secreted by the kidney or spleen and to be the cause of such conditions as depression and gloominess: black bile:" and then a quote from Shakespeare: "to purge melancholy."

I have struggled with depression off and on for years. Sometimes I really wallow in it. But I have never, until recently, actually felt it as a physical, maybe even chemical, sensation. Let me see if I can explain this. I was recently involved in an activity. Shoot. I may as well tell you what it was, because most of you who know me will guess anyway. I was auditioning for a show. (Future and past directors, please don't hold this against me, I am just trying to illustrate something here.) I thought that I had a really good audition. The day after auditions were done, persons began to post on Facebook for which parts they had been cast. But I did not get a call. When it became apparent that, not only had I not got any of the parts that I wanted, but that I might not be cast at all, whoa! Something happened to me. I mean, I have been down before, but this was way different.

As I am thinking about how I might describe what happened to me, I can only think of the body's response to alcohol. Now, keep in mind, I have never been drunk. I rarely ever even drink alcohol, but I had an experience with it one time that I think could serve to demonstrate what happened to me when I had this last bout of depression. We were at a friend's birthday party. The host's daughter had prepared some Jello shots. I had not had Jello shots before. They sounded pretty harmless to me. Hey, there's always room for Jello, right? The instructions were that you were supposed to drink the whole thing, in one gulp--shoot it down---as it were. So I did. Yeah. It went straight down, and when I put the empty shot cup down, my head was spinning, and I knew I better just sit still for a while and not try to do anything. That alcohol was in my stomach, but it was doing something in my head. Just that fast.

In that same way, that day when I went to bed and had not been called to be cast, this awful sensation came over me. It was in the pit of my stomach, but it messed up my head. And here is the weird part, even the next day when I found that I had been cast for a part, after all, it didn't go away. It hung on for several more days. It was like that "black bile" had poisoned me. I could not shake it. I wasn't drinking anything, but I felt it leaking into my soul, or my body, I don't know which: it was like liquid depression. I couldn't stop it, not by praying, not by trying to think "happy thoughts", nothing. I still don't think I am fully recovered from it, really. I have found that beautiful music helps some, and laughing helps. But, honestly, I seriously wonder if I should be on Prozac.

I hate the idea of taking another pill every day. I wonder if it isn't so bad to just let nature take its course, sometimes. Maybe I can be depressed sometimes, and it will be okay. I think that there must be natural things that I can do to fight back. I wonder about the music thing. Why does it seem to help? Also, exercise, as long as I don't get too exhausted, seems like a natural lift. (Endorphins?)

I was recently in a seminar where we were being taught the principles for successful living. One of the things the leader said was something we should not do is discuss our poor health with anyone, except a doctor. And I know that there should be limits about even things one blogs about. So, maybe I have overstepped a boundary, and if I have I really must apologize. But, I also think it is possible that there are people out there who also struggle with depression. And I think there are people who are far more depressed about things that are far more serious than things that bother me right now. I am reasonably healthy, have a home, a family that loves me...some people have none of these things and they are still cheerful!

My dear friends, if you do struggle with depression, I just want you to know you are not the only one. Maybe you have found coping mechanisms. (I guess that the even the Bible suggests that this is why some people drink and get drunk.) I think we learn from each other, if we are willing to share the needs. I love people, really love people in my life right now. I think we are stronger for having shown our weaknesses, and can be made even stronger for sharing what makes us strong.

So, in pondering depression, mine and maybe yours, I think it is fair to say it may not be the last time I raise the topic. It's kind of like one of my Weight Watchers leaders used to say about the struggle with being overweight "You are never cured, but you can get it under control". So, more or less, I guess that applies to depression, too. Maybe there is no cure, but there are ways to get it under control. Peace!

Mountains

You who are fortunate enough to live within the sight of Mountains, I envy you. I didn't travel much at all when I was young. Until I got married, I had only been out of the state about twice, and then just to Illinois and Michigan. The first time I went out West was in 1993. When we got to Montana, where I had my very first encounter with real Mountains, it was love at first sight!

Mountains. What is is about them? I don't know. Recently I wrote about getting out into the woods. I do love woods. I can't imagine not living where there are woods to ramble in. But oh, how I would love to live within a hour's drive of some beautiful mountains.

In October of 2008 we traveled to Calgary, Alberta Canada. Jay had closed down and sold his cabinet shop in July of that year. We had posted his resume on Monster. A head hunter from Texas found it. She was looking to fill a position up in Fort Macleod, near Lethbridge in Alberta Canada. After many phone calls between the headhunter, and then the business owner, we decided to go up for an in person interview.  Fort Macleod was a town that would really remind you of something from a Texas western. I did have a picture of the bar where we stopped to eat there, which really looked like something out of an old Western. And the wind the first day we were there was tremendous. The interview was extensive, and I was there for the whole thing. Fort Macleod was within sight of mountains, but it wasn't like Calgary, where we were staying.

After that first day of the interview, we decided to to see Banff. Well, I tell you the truth, if I could transport myself to favorite places where I have been in the blink of an eye (you know, like "I Dream Of Genie" style), the place I would go first and stay the longest would be Banff! It is surrounded by the Great Canadian Rocky Mountains. The city itself is pristine. The possibility for wildlife sightings are tremendous, and maybe a little frightening. (I have always been afraid of bears!) Did I mention that is positively surrounded by mountains? (Yes, I did.) The pictures that we took there are amongst my most favorite pictures that I own. My only sorrow is that we did not have any of our kids with us, so it's just Jay and me in the photos.

Jay was not finally selected for the job in Fort Macleod. He was offered a job in a cabinet shop in Calgary. That company put in paper work with the government and we started preparing to move to Alberta. But, alas, the government papers came back that the company must try harder to fill the position with a Canadian. So, our dreams of moving to Calgary and living near Banff turned to just so much dust.

Sometimes, when I think about how excited I was to be moving to Canada, I think that it was just wonderlust. Any place other than here is more exciting to be. When you grew up here, anywhere seems better than here. But I still think that I would like to live every day where I could look out my window and see mountains. I know that some people feel that way about the Ocean. Some people feel that way about lakes. And those are great places, too. I have never been to Hawaii. Maybe I would feel the same about that.
But, when you consider natural disasters, especially in light of recent events, oceans, to me, are a little more frightening. Earthquakes move mountains, I guess. In the end, maybe no place is really safe from natural disasters. You just have to be ready to survive or not.

Anyway, I hope someday to live near mountains. I am still considering the idea of moving to Alberta. If that can't work, we do have a dear friend and the best man from our wedding that lives in Idaho. I think that might be a good place to build our final home. I don't know. We may just be in Indiana until we die. But it doesn't hurt to dream of something different, does it? I will always dream of living in those mountains!

Ponderings on Public Loss: Camp Singing Hills

I did not grow up in Elkhart county, nor have I ever been a Girl scout. (I do like their cookies, though. ; ) Recent developments or lack thereof have caused the powers that be to put the local Girl Scout Camp, Camp Singing Hills up for auction. I drive by the southern edge of the camp on the back roads that I often take on my way home to Middlebury. It makes me physically ill to drive past there right now.

The beautiful woodsy acreage of the camp has been divided up into lots for the auction. There are 10 acre lots, 6.7 acre lots and so on. I do wish that I had a great big gob of money right now with which I could purchase the entire place. Honestly, I do.  I must not be the only one affected by the thought of this beautiful place being divided into parcels. When we walked down into Middlebury Tuesday night, the sign at the beginning of this post is in all the windows of the shops and storefronts. I fear it is too late for them to save it from being turned into a residential area.

Camp Singing Hills, what memories I have of the place, even if I wasn't a Girl Scout growing up here. I love just driving by there. The place is loaded with wildlife. Almost any evening in any season, you can spot white tailed deer there. Once three wild turkeys crossed the road in front of me on that southern edge while I was driving into Bristol for a rehearsal.

When we were newlyweds, I remember my father-in-law driving us back into the camp after a dinner at Essenhaus. He had done some of the additions onto the dining room there. Jerry Krull is also a fan of nature. We saw deer on that visit, my first visit to the camp.

Another time, when our kids were young, we were there with a bunch of friends from church for a weekend of cross country skiing. We rented the lodge. It was a great snow weekend. There were sleds and toboggans. There really are hills and Camp Singing Hills. It was so much  fun sliding down those hills on the sleds. We rented skis and went out on the trails to cross country. There were also indoor games for the children when they were cold or too wet from snow adventures and needed to warm up and dry off. We fixed a chili supper. I think we made pancakes for breakfast.

We went out there for other outings. I remember one time a women's retreat was held there. I think it was too cold at that time to be outdoors much, and there was no snow that time. But we still managed to enjoy the environment. I think several of us went out walking on the trails. We talked and laughed and just enjoyed being out there together.

I don't know how many acres the whole campground encompasses. If I looked at recent newspaper stories, I am sure I could find out. And this may not be new news to any of you who read my blog, but I just wanted to comment on it. I will say that the tracts of land that I see most often look like they would make great locations for homes, but it would be a shame to clear out the woods to put houses there. It would be more than a shame. How sad that the next generations will not have this wonderful legacy to grow up with. It is going to be a terrible public loss.

Into The Woods Part II

It was finally a good enough day to get off and go into the woods a little bit yesterday. I didn't spend much time in there. It had snowed the night before, and with the melt and the recent thaw, you can imagine it is quite sloppy in there. But I didn't care. I walked a little ways in and I looked up into the trees. The sun filtered through and I closed my eyes and just soaked it all in. Ahhhhhhh...Peace.

I remembered that when we were kids we used to climb the trees. It was so fun to get up there amongst the thinner branches, high up. You hold onto the next highest limbs and you bounce. Maybe there was something daredevilish about that. Sometimes we bounced because it was an apple tree and we were shaking apples down to someone on the ground who would pick up the good ones to eat. Other times we just bounced for the fun.

Some days we could climb up in the tree and hide. It isn't much fun to hide in a tree unless someone is really looking for you. You wouldn't hide unless you were pretty sure SOMEONE would come looking. I loved hanging around up in a pine tree and watching someone go around and around the house looking for me. I would finally get tired of the game and of getting all that pine sap stuck all over me, and I would call to whichever sibling was looking for me. I would climb down after I had laughed and laughed at them for not thinking to look for me up in the tree.

There was a particular pine tree that stood very close to a low part of the roof. We used to climb up there and climb over onto the roof. We spent a lot of time playing up on that roof. I don't remember my sister up there much. Lisa was usually a good little girl and she didn't often take part in our escapades. But the boys and I would get up there and then dare each other to jump off. The lowest part of the roof was probably only about 6 feet from the ground. I jumped off there many times. It could explain some of my joint problems in the knees. Maybe.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed these little walks back into my childhood memories of trees. I better get out of here!

Into the Woods

I may have mentioned this before, but when I was growing up in central Indiana, my Dad raised beagles. They weren't just pets, they were hunting dogs. Dad used to put a few of them on leashes and load them into the car and take them off to "run rabbits." For those of you who have never experienced this, I will explain. You go to the woods and you find a brush pile. There are usually rabbits hiding in brush piles. You have the dogs there, usually still on leashes.  You can kick the brush pile, or jump on the brush pile and it will startle the rabbit. He runs out. You unleash the dogs and they follow the rabbit's trail. They run for a while, baying every little while. Baying equals barking, usually a prolonged note, not just a choppy, short bark. You follow the dogs until they either lose the trail or the rabbit hides in another brush pile. You can kick the rabbit out again, or be done for the day.

I mention it because I think this is when I first learned to love being in the woods. My Dad used to take one or more of us five kids along for company. We learned to tromp through briars and brambles, crawl over fallen trees and branches, swish through long grass, all while being quiet. I learned to appreciate solitude. Even though we were there together, we didn't really talk much. We were alone in our thoughts. I am sure I can imagine why Dad liked it so much. If you had five rambunctios children, wouldn't you want to go hide in the woods for a while? I only had three, and I am sure I can imagine the reasons it gave him such joy.

I was thinking about all of this at least two days this week when I came home "the back way" from work. I drive through the Bristol Fruit Hills. Just east of State Road 15 on County Road 112 and also County Road 14, there are some deep woods. This time of year the snow is patchy in there. You can see through layers and layers of trees. You can see places where the snow still is thick on the ground because it hasn't been warm enough to melt where the woods is thick enough to keep the sun out. The branches are all bare. The bracken or weeds and wildflowers have not yet started to grow back up yet. I see deer trails in there. I drive by slowly and I imagine myself walking on the floor of the woods. I imagine the trees standing tall all around me and picking my way through carefully, always watching the next step. I'm stopping every few minutes just to listen. Quiet. I am looking as far as my eyes can see, trying to catch a glimpse of some wild thing. Maybe a deer will appear. I have seen turkeys in there. Maybe there will be something even more exotic: I saw a pheasant two weeks ago. He was right on the road. I stopped and tried to take his picture with my camera phone, but he ran down the road. Guess he didn't want to be photographed.

I wish I could transport myself to the woods and, better yet, to the tranquility I feel when I am in the woods whenever every day stresses abound. I like my job, but it is still a job. Every job has stress. Mine has its share. I don't have the luxury of being able to close my eyes and imagine much while I am at work. I have to concentrate on the job at hand. But, if I could, I would go more often into some woods. I would breathe deeply and walk along, alone with my thoughts. (I am such great company, aren't I? And modest, too.) To me, it is important to have that solitude. Life goes by in such a hurry. We should take time out to think about it all. To laugh. To grieve. To live.

I have so many thoughts that I need to be alone with right now. I do wish I could go to the woods to think all these things through. A child, one of my daughter's dance students, died a senseless death last week. Why? A friend hurt me very deeply this week without even knowing it. (Only friends can hurt you that way.) I am happy that my husband is working again. But, I confess, I worry about how long it will last. I worry, sometimes, about how long I will last. We are seriously thinking about moving back to Elkhart to save all the driving we can because gas is going up. Neither one of us really wants to move, let alone moving to Elkhart. So much to think about! How I long to go to Bonneyville Mill and walk in the woods and think about all this stuff. But it's raining. It's muddy. It's chilly.

I will get there, though. One of these days, I will go into the woods. I will breathe deeply. With each breath, I will expel all the toxic drag from my life. I will breathe in fresh, clean, new life. I will smile and serenity will come. God will talk to me. I will finally listen. It will be so awesome. Maybe the sun will shine through. It isn't necessary, but just an added benefit. Problems will get solved. Even if the problems don't get solved, I will feel better about all of it. I will forgive the hurts, little ones and big ones. Oh, how I wish I were there right now, in the woods.