lifting my cloud of depression

8/3/2019 Lifting My Cloud of Depression

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Lifting My Cloud of Depressionby Tehilla Vanfossen

Medication only removed the pain; attaining happiness was up tome.

It runs in my family. But depression is a sneaky disease and it did its insidious work without anyoneputting a name to it. As I was growing up, no one saidthat my father was depressed instead, hewas moody. My grandmother, who couldnt pull herself together long enough to make dinner, wasdescribed as eccentric.'

But clinically depressed? Not in myfamily, thank you very much.

By the time I reached adulthood, I was forcing my way through most days in a blur of emotionalpain. Negative thoughts constantly pounded me: I was worthless lazy and stupid with noredeeming qualities. I didnt expect anyone to like me -- I didnt even like myself. I never seriouslyconsidered suicide, but if Id had a huge cosmic eraser, I would have used it on myself.

Following family protocol, I didnt call it depression. Instead I said that I had an artistictemperament a phrase that put a creative spin on an extremely painful state of mind.

To make matters worse, I faced serious real-life issues. My husband was undergoing cancertreatment - -and it wasnt working. He fought the disease for years, but our children were veryyoung when he died.

For a while I blamed my moods on my life circumstances. I was a 34-year-old widow with three little

kids anyone wouldbe depressed! But that excuse wore thin as the years passed.

One day I just stopped. I sat in a chair and cried for three days for no particular reason. My kidstried to hide their worry, but I saw what my depression was doing to them and I did something Ishould have done much sooner: I went to my doctor.

He asked questions, ran tests, and then wrote a prescription for an antidepressant. I knew I neededhelp, but I was ashamed that I hadnt been strong enough to beat depression by myself.

He scolded me when I told him that. Your depression probably stems from a chemical imbalance,he said firmly. Its as real as a broken leg.

So I grudgingly took the medicine each day, and a week or two later, my life began to change. Theinner pain was gone, evaporating like dew, and suddenly I could take joy in simple things: beingwith my kids, making dinner, taking a walk.

It felt miraculous, but it wasnt artificial. Id been afraid that medication would control me, imposing afalse and frenetic cheerfulness -- but it didnt. The medication simply ended the on-going emotionalpain and leveled my emotions. I was still me.

In fact, for the first time ever, I was free to truly be myself. Without the negative thoughts and moodswings, Iwas in control.
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Medication & Spirituality

For a few years, everything went well. I got involved with an Orthodox congregation and slowlybecame more observant. Big parts of my life began to change. Eventually I became a kosher-eating, mitzvah-keeping Jewish woman and I loved it.

I loved it so much, in fact, that I stopped taking my medication. Id been on an even emotional keelfor a couple of years, and I hoped that my depression was a thing of the past. Besides, I reasoned,now I had God in my life what more did I need?

Things were great for a while. But slowly my emotions began to fluctuate and eventually I ended upback in the doctors office. If Id felt guilty the first time around, now I felt shame; not only was Iweak, but Id failed God, too.

I told my Rabbi of my failure. What kind of Jew has to be medicated to be happy?

He said something that closely mirrored my doctors advice. If you had cancer, God forbid, wouldyou get treatment? When I nodded, he went on. So whats the difference? You have a physicalproblem. God expects you to take care of yourself. In fact, He commands it.

I trusted my Rabbi, so I followed his advice. Besides, Id begun to realize that, antidepressant or noantidepressant, I still had a lot to learn about happiness.

For instance: Id never owned up to the idea that I was responsible for my own happiness. When

the fog of depression had first lifted, I waited for happiness to justhappen.When it didnt, Ibecame frustrated and angry. I finally realized that the medication removed the pain, but that wasall. The rest was up to me.

The first time I heard someone say that happiness was a choice, I was indignant especially sincethe comment was directed at me. Id been complaining to a friend: one of my kids was havingproblems, my salary was too lowand on top of everything else, my car had broken down!

I was in a terrible mood. I deservedto be in a bad mood. I was enjoyingmy bad mood. And then myfriend wrecked it by saying, But happiness doesnt depend on circumstances. You could choose tobe happy, you know.

I rolled my eyes and dismissed her comment as New Age mumbo-jumbo. Me? Chooseto behappy?I didnt like the idea, not one little bit.

Then I met Bruria.

It happened at a Torah study session. The Rabbi explained that it was a mitzvah to be joyful happy on Shabbos. There it was again the idea that you could chooseto be happy, even if

just for one day. And he told a story to illustrate his point:

Bruriah lived during the Talmudic age. Her husband, Rabbi Meir, was at shul one Shabbos whenthe couples two sons died suddenly. Because it was Shabbos, Bruriah refused to mourn. Afternightfall, though, her husband returned from shul and she had to break the news to him.

She didnt say that their sons were dead. Instead she asked Rabbi Meir what she should do ifsomeone loaned her something and later asked for the items return.


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Her husband gave the obvious answer. You should return the item happily, he told her.

Then she told him that God had required the return of their sons.

Oh, come on! I exclaimed to the Rabbi after the class. Her sons died and she didnt shed atear? Because it was Shabbos?

My rabbi answered mildly, saying that most people arent on such a high spiritual level. But thisstory teaches that we should be happy on Shabbos.

Then he gave me an assignment. He told me to find out what Ethics of the Fathershad to say abouthappiness. When I got home, I flipped through my copy.

Heres what I read: Who is rich? One who is happy with what he has (Avot 4:1).

Happy with what he has?Happy with a troubled kid and too many bills and not enoughmoney?Was this some kind of a joke?

Then it hit me. If I waited till everything in my life was perfect, Id neverbe happy. I had to choosehappiness even if it killed me.

Related Article: Happiness, etc

Choosing Happiness

I learned that the Torah commands us to be happy. That meant happiness was indeed within mycontrol. God wouldnt tell me to do the impossible. For that matter, the Torah recorded that theJewish people were punished not for sinning, but for not observing the commandments withjoy.

So I made a decision: I would be happy.

I wasnt happyabout it, but you cant have everything.

When I woke up in a bad mood a common occurrence I consciously chose to smile and actcheerful.

It took a little practice. Id catch myself grumbling and remind myself: Youre HAPPY!The nextthought was usually an indignant I am NOT!Often the matter ended there, and I spent the rest ofthe day in my usual emotional funk.

Slowly, though, I learned to insist on happiness. I bought a dry-erase pen and wrote quotes abouthappiness on my mirrors and windows. Who is happy? One who is content with what he has, mybedroom mirror told me each morning. When I stumbled, still groggy, into the living room, the sliding

door chimed in with Tolstoys pithy If you want to be happy, be.

And it worked. Gradually my attitude changed. I became calmer and less prone to anger over littlethings.I felt happier.

There were still issues that sent me into an emotional tailspin, though. Most of them had to do withcontrol. I likedcontrol. I wanted to be in control. And when I wasnt when other people had thenerve to inconvenience me -- I got angry.
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I swore at long red lights and said unlovely things about slow drivers. I sighed heavily and often when faced with a long line at the bank. I tapped my foot impatiently when a sales clerk didntsee me right away, and complained angrily about the service.

I wanted to be in control of more importantissues, too. For instance, my daughters class wastaking a trip to Israel a trip that Id supported at first. But there had been violence, and there were

threats of even more trouble.

I didnt want to be the mom who wouldnt let my daughter go, but I was afraid. Id lost my husband; Icouldnt imagine losing a child.

My daughter was patient. Nothing will happen to me unless God allows it, she told me.

I believed that -- when I was in shul with my prayer book open. But my daughterlivedit, even athome. Even when facing a risky situation.

She went to Israel and had a wonderful time. And I started to work on my emunah my faith andtrust in God because I was starting to realize that emunah might just be an important componentof happiness.

I slowly understood that faith and trusting God was actually the secret to being happy.

And I slowly understood that faith and trusting God was actually the secret. If God was truly incontrol and if He wanted the best for me then everything that happened to me wasperfect. Everything.

It was a mind-blowing idea, and the effect was freeing.

I was responsible to put in my reasonable effort but beyond that, I could let go. As long as I wasworking to make a living, I didnt have to worry about money. I had what God had allotted me, andmy only responsibility was give tzedakah and use my resources responsibly. If I stayed close to

Him, He would give me what I needed.

I didnt have to worry about my children. If they were going through hard times, I could give goodadviceand pray. Beyond that, they were in the hands of God who was dealing with them perfectly.

I realized that I had only three essential tasks in life:

1. To do what I knew God wanted me to do. I could find this in Torah.2. To put forth my best effort for a life of financial security, family happiness and spiritual

growth.3. To be content with what I had.

That was it!

Things went wrong that first week. I mean, lots of things went wrong. I had to keep reminding myselfthe same lessons in emunah over and over again.And I still dont have it down pat. But that is partof the effort. No one said it's going to easy.

Ive experienced tragedy and suffering, and I dont know why. But I do know a few things:

God created the world and He controls everything.


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Nothing is an accident.

Everything He does is for our good.

I like to think that by recognizing my depression, and treating it according to my doctors advice, Ivestrengthened myself. Im still learning to genuinely trust the Almighty. Its a lesson Ill be working on

for the rest of my life. Im a slow learner.

Its a good thing God is patient.

lifting my cloud of depression

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