Depressed in Paradise

You go to Maui and you still come back depressed. Sounds sacreligious, doesn’t it? That is exactly where I am this morning.

It gets worse too. I went by myself, no responsibilities or agenda or anything, just a break and a time of rest for me. My wife stayed in San Diego with my son so I could relax. I went to see one of my best friends in the world and spend some time with his family who I adore. They treated me like absolute royalty, being more generous to me than I think anyone ever has. I’ve got ANOTHER staycation planned with my wife starting tomorrow night and it is going to be amazing and fun-filled and very good for our marriage.

And yet I sit here at my desk, depressed. For me that consists of being generally bummed out and sad, though without any good reason, nothing stewing in my mind to prompt this hurt in my heart. It includes an unbelievable mental fog that makes it difficult to write this and get thoughts organized and on to paper. I am extremely tired and just want to nap, even though I have so much to do in so little time.

But I think the worst thing about it is the incredible shame and guilt I feel over it. I just got back from a totally selfish vacation in Maui, I’m not allowed to feel like this! People keep asking me how the trip was. How can I look anyone in the eye and say, “It was really amazing, but today I want to curl up into a ball and crysleep™ the day away”?

There is far more nuance to the situation than I think many can understand, which I know includes my unfair projections and assumptions of others. I really did have a great time. I was able to totally be myself for a few days. I spent hours laughing and having deep conversations with one of my best friends. I ate tons of shaved ice and Hawaiian food. I spent countless hours on the beach. I was given some realizations from God about this next season of life. It was an absolute gift and I had an incredible time.

But it didn’t fix me, which is what I think we believe will happen. I think that is why I see the shock and jealousy in others when I tell them where I went. They’re not mad at me personally and are only partly jealous of the trip itself. I think instead we respond with jealousy to another’s vacation because we think a vacation will fix all our problems, and it gives us a chunk of time when we can ignore reality, difficult as it is. But vacation doesn’t fix problems, it ignores them until we come back home, where they have been waiting for us the whole time. And that’s why we respond with jealousy, because we wish we went on vacation instead of or in addition to them.

Vacation is a good thing, but it isn’t a cure all.

It’s only after this vacation that I’ve had thoughts of not being a pastor, envisioning the sweet freedom of endlessly asking, “May I take your order?” without having to analyze a single thing or take work home with me or bear everyone else's problems. After this vacation I still think I need to follow through on going back to therapy, which is a lot harder to do now that I have a kid and seem to get busier every day. Even after going to Maui I still have desires in my heart to numb my pain with alcohol, or the endless scroll of social media, or binge-watching shows, or anything else I can get my hands on.

And shockingly enough, I’m ok with this place that I’m in. Not because I have some profound peace about it, or some beautiful realization that helps me rationalize it, or because a certain number of people affirmed their love for me even here, or even that God said a specific word to me to bear me up in this time. No. I’m ok being in this place because it is the place that I am. I’m not going to lie about it. I’m not going to fake it. And I really don’t care what others think because their thoughts won’t change where I am.

In addition to all of that, I sit in this place, heavy hearted, frowning more than usual, contemplating my life choices and beating the crap out of myself incessantly, and I do all of it before God. Not that I’m being some incredible saint who daily spends hours wailing before the Lord or listening for his voice, but because He promised to be with me until the end of the age. He promised never to leave me nor forsake me. God promised that nothing, not even my depression, could separate me from his love. He loves me. Right here, ugly thoughts and habits included. Pain and sadness and illogical hopelessness wrapped up in Love, even as I struggle to open my Bible for myself or talk to the One who formed me.

I can’t change that love, just like I can’t change my depression on my own, which is why I don’t care what people think. In this place where I feel so worthless, God loves me so much. So there.