Part 3: Song 8
Ten entries about the ten best songs of all time.
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - "As I Sat Sadly by Her Side"
I've encountered people, before, who were wholly convinced that, Scripturally, there is no case to be made for our modern understanding of mental illness. Depression, as a physiological ailment caused by chemical misproduction, is simply not represented in the Bible, and therefore does not exist. Rather, long-standing depression is the result of long-standing sin; any disconnect of the mind from God exists because of sin, and depressed people simply need to be more faithful.
It's a loathesome view, supported by no medical evidence and shaky from a Biblical standpoint. But this is the fear that an ill Christian has. Some remorse or feelings of guilt are the result of sin; those same feelings remaining for a decade, regardless of repentance or lifestyle changes, is something else entirely. But there's always the risk that confiding in a fellow Christian will result in chastisement rather than help. Some people just need pills.
For a Christian, or I would imagine any spiritual person, this is what depression means: separation from God. This state can often lead to sin, rather than the other way around. Proper responses, such as guilt, take odd forms: guilt over irrelevant or non-sinful actions, for instance.
There must be as many paths of depression as there are ways of human death. Apathy, self-loathing, hatred, envy, guilt, slothfulness, all can be pushed to any extreme, depending on the person. Yet, in a brain addled with the wrong chemicals, the meaning of any emotion can change. What looks like hatred to ordinary people can be meant as an expression of great love. A selfish act can be meant as compassionate. A seemingly nonsensical or non sequitur statement can be the greatest possible expression of hostility. Or of humility. Or of helplessness. It's impossible to tell, unless you really know someone.
But who can? It's a terrible place to be, and anyone with a heart wouldn't want anyone else there. Yet, some already are anyway--these people, they make for miserable, wonderful company, always there to disappoint you, always able to cheer you up, always infuriating, always endearing, completely devoid of passion yet so full of love it's unbearable: people who are oriented wrong. Lovely creatures, they are. Great if you want to wreck up the place, and, God, you know you do.
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - "As I Sat Sadly by Her Side"
I've encountered people, before, who were wholly convinced that, Scripturally, there is no case to be made for our modern understanding of mental illness. Depression, as a physiological ailment caused by chemical misproduction, is simply not represented in the Bible, and therefore does not exist. Rather, long-standing depression is the result of long-standing sin; any disconnect of the mind from God exists because of sin, and depressed people simply need to be more faithful.
It's a loathesome view, supported by no medical evidence and shaky from a Biblical standpoint. But this is the fear that an ill Christian has. Some remorse or feelings of guilt are the result of sin; those same feelings remaining for a decade, regardless of repentance or lifestyle changes, is something else entirely. But there's always the risk that confiding in a fellow Christian will result in chastisement rather than help. Some people just need pills.
For a Christian, or I would imagine any spiritual person, this is what depression means: separation from God. This state can often lead to sin, rather than the other way around. Proper responses, such as guilt, take odd forms: guilt over irrelevant or non-sinful actions, for instance.
There must be as many paths of depression as there are ways of human death. Apathy, self-loathing, hatred, envy, guilt, slothfulness, all can be pushed to any extreme, depending on the person. Yet, in a brain addled with the wrong chemicals, the meaning of any emotion can change. What looks like hatred to ordinary people can be meant as an expression of great love. A selfish act can be meant as compassionate. A seemingly nonsensical or non sequitur statement can be the greatest possible expression of hostility. Or of humility. Or of helplessness. It's impossible to tell, unless you really know someone.
But who can? It's a terrible place to be, and anyone with a heart wouldn't want anyone else there. Yet, some already are anyway--these people, they make for miserable, wonderful company, always there to disappoint you, always able to cheer you up, always infuriating, always endearing, completely devoid of passion yet so full of love it's unbearable: people who are oriented wrong. Lovely creatures, they are. Great if you want to wreck up the place, and, God, you know you do.