Category Archives: Depression

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When I Should Feel Joy #3: Shame

I should have handled it better.
I should have been prepared.
I should have more to give.
I should get more done.
I should be happier.
I should be kind.
I should pray.

I couldn’t pray.

Praying evokes some sort of awareness of God’s presence and I didn’t want my heart to be in anyone’s presence. It’s hard to want to be around anyone when you feel disgraced:

When all was said and done, I felt I had failed this natural birth thing. I didn’t overcome anything or feel empowered like some women do. I felt dragged and beaten and terrified and discarded. That is really hard to say.…I felt my loss of control had embarrassed him (my husband). I couldn’t look him in the eye for fear of the disappointment I was sure I would see.                                                  ~From When I Should Feel Joy #1

My “should’s” slopped me in shame so all I wanted to do was hide. That’s what one does when covered in sticky, smelly sh*t. Cover. Hide. Blame. Get me outta here.

Shame doesn’t want to be near any person – much less God. And the truth doesn’t matter a whole lot when insurmountable feeling blocks reason. I couldn’t look my husband in the eye for months. He couldn’t convince me of anything. It didn’t take long before I realized all of this was about God, too.

I was so afraid that God was shaking his head as he looked on me that I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, either. When I did lift my gaze, all I seemed to see was God’s profile. Maybe he was not only shaking his head at me, maybe he wasn’t even looking. Maybe he turned his head when I called out to him.

What’s the point of talking to a god who doesn’t see me? It’s humiliating.

And yet, I felt something stirring. Deep-seeded belief kept whispering –Don’t give up…Wait for it…

This went on for a year. We made plans for me to have a week away at class with an author who mentored me through his books since I was in college. For a few more months I maintained the resolve to tread water and wait for time when I could slip away from the expectations of young motherhood and deal with all I had been avoiding. I needed those days without tangible responsibilities in order to untangle. And boy, was I tangled – strangled by my own fear.

Something had to give.

I had to give back to God something I had taken: the right to determine my own value.

To tuck in our hearts today:

  1. Shame is not guilt. When I feel guilty for things I’ve done wrong, it’s like feeling the realistic weight or consequences of what I’ve done. Feeling that weight is heavy and sad but it also has a simple answer. I’m forgiven. Debt paid. Done. Guilt is eradicated by forgiveness. I am Loved and loveable, guilty or not.*Though I try not to seek it, I actually welcome guilt because I want to know the consequences of what I do. I don’t want to be oblivious to how I hurt others – I want to turn pain-infliction into healing-love. Forgiveness produces beautiful things like freedom and joy and love and gratitude.
  1. Shame assumes my value goes up and down based on what I bring to the table. It isn’t surprised when I hide because it wants me to feel embarrassed when I don’t meet expectations. It assumes I will work hard to keep from being embarrassed. When I failed and couldn’t make up for it, I hid. I didn’t want anyone to see me like that.Whose expectations was I concerned about, anyway? Truth be known, I spent a lot of time comparing myself to my ideal self – the Andrea I always thought I could be: strong, competent, prepared, happy, kind, good, etc. When all of that unraveled, I didn’t know who I was or how to hold it together. Other people had expectations for me, as well. When I met their expectations I felt more valuable. When I didn’t, I felt worth less. Shame colored my vision of the past, present and future. I couldn’t feel the guilt that leads to forgiveness and love because I didn’t feel I was worth it.

I had to give back to God something I had taken:
the right to determine my own value.

Your value is NOT based on what you bring to the table. You are not an object to be assigned value by any person, including yourself. Your value is inherent in your being and is no more or less than any other human being’s value.

From the bottom of my forgiven heart:

YOU are Loved. Live it out loud.

You are loved. Live it out loud.

*I do believe that I am Loved and loveable. But I also realize that when I hurt another, their trust in me is not automatically restored with forgiveness. Trust takes time and faithfulness.

You are welcome here – no matter how you think you may smell. Find me on Facebook or sign up here on WordPress for updates. I’d love to hear from you.

Sincerely,

Andrea Joy

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

When I Should Feel Joy #2: Postpartum Depression

When I Should Feel Joy #3: Shame

When I Should Feel Joy #4: True Love

When I Should Feel Joy #5: Deeper Joy

11 Tips to Prevent and Fight Depression

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The Thrill of Victory and the Agony of Defeat

My husband informed me yesterday that this is the best weekend of sports for the entire winter, (IHHO). Playoffs and Championships – the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat! Living rooms and sports bars across the country will be filled with anticipation as beloved favorites lay it all on the line. There will be wings, nachos, brats, beer, high fives, manly hugs, tears…and a lot of profanity thrown at TV’s.

(Well…in our house there will be vegetables, Spark, stationary bike-riding and replaying to analyze injuries over and over, but that’s beside the point!)

There’s nothing quite like the drama of football.

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons

Photo courtesy of Creative Commons

Unless it’s having a baby.  

Yep. I’m comparing the two. Why? Because I said something pretty audacious in “When I Should Feel Joy #2: Post Partum Depression”:  Sad is under angry. I have not yet come across an exception. I was definitely angry, but I put anger on top of my sadness. I chose it over tears. I don’t have to choose anger. You don’t, either.

Sad is under angry. I have not yet come across an exception. I was definitely angry, but I put anger on top of my sadness. I chose it over tears. I don’t have to choose anger. You don’t, either.

If there’s ever a good reason to be angry it’s when a ref makes game-changing call in error…against MY team…in the playoffs!

Am I right?!

I have no intention of telling fans to not be angry. But I will say this: sad is still under that anger. I’m totally bummed when my team loses the chance at an epic Super Bowl win. When the ref makes that call, I lose my chance to feel the thrill of victory I so passionately craved. Bummed. Sad. Ticked.

What I’m saying is that when that call is made, I can feel angry and display that anger in ways that hurt others and my relationship with them, OR I can choose relationship over my reaction.

I can choose relationship over my reaction.

It would be hurtful to carry the anger past the end of the game and into the hours or days ahead – then look for vengeance wherever I can find it: beer, food, slamming doors, cutting remarks. Anger seeps out into the way we interact with others and can actually hurt relationships. Generally, people don’t want to be around angry people. This creates distance.

It would be helpful to recognize that it sucks to have my team lose like that and admit I’m disappointed – then look for potential wherever I can find it: make a plan toward a goal, think of creative solutions to the problem, look at the situation from other people’s perspectives. Disappointment without anger is sadness and can actually help relationships. Generally, people want to comfort sad people. This creates a stronger bond.

So, my Friend, do you really want to hurt others and your relationships with them? You don’t have to. When you feel the volcano about to explode…or even after you popped your top, try this:

Breathe 3 big breaths and ask yourself, “What is sad about this situation?”

Choose relationship over your reaction. Deflate the intensity of your anger by recognizing your own disappointment/pain.

And may the best team actually win!

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When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

After my initial post “Frozen Top Ten”, a few beautiful people asked me to share more about my experience with depression – specifically, post partum depression. My reflections on this story are too long for one blog post. This is not just for women. It is not just for parents. I offer this series in honor of anyone who suffers and feels alone. And I offer it to those who might have experienced or have loved ones experiencing difficulties as young parents.

Our experience having our first child was joyful. Yes, we went to the hospital and were sent home and then induced the next day. Yes, I had back labor and eventually had an epidural. Yes, the epidural helped half of my back more than the other half. But, YES! We were rested and ready! We were very excited to welcome Amelia into the world to the tune of “Testify to Love.” Happy. For a long time, there was happy.

Then around December in our second pregnancy, I was incredibly uncomfortable. The demands of my body and a 1 ½ year old were wearing on me. Looking back, I believe this is where depression set in. Five months later, it was time to have our second baby. We went in for a check up one morning and were told to come back to the hospital around 5:00 p.m. so they could induce and deliver that night. We didn’t think much of the request at the time. Our doctor would conveniently be on call and my body was indicating that it was a good time. We started the process around 6. I settled into the whirlpool and Aaron settled into the Lakers game. What came next was fast and furious. I realized very quickly that I wanted the pain meds I had previously hoped to do without. And I wanted them BAD. They never came. I will spare you the details.

Here’s what I felt I lost in the next few hours:

  • My voice. I had plans for how this birthing process would work, but when things got rolling, nurses were (what felt like) dragging me to the bed and telling me what to do. I felt like they were making decisions for me. They acted like the epidural would come, even though they knew it was too late. I felt like a child.
  • My emotional stability. It took me a few months to realize this, but I discussed it with a friend-psychologist and we determined that I likely had a panic attack during labor. I literally thought I would AND thought it would be better if I would just die in labor. I feel bad even saying that. But it’s true. I’m going to say it because maybe I’m not the only one.
  • My dignity. I felt incredibly exposed and ashamed of my volume, tone and word choice as I cried out and writhed in pain.
  • My self-respect. When all was said and done, I felt I had failed this natural birth thing. I didn’t overcome anything or feel empowered like some women do. I felt dragged and beaten and terrified and discarded. That is also really hard to say.              *Big Breath*
  • My ability to move. For a long time (maybe an hour, I don’t really know) after birth, I couldn’t relax my awkwardly positioned body. I continued to experience pain after pain and I didn’t have the wherewithal to ask for pain medication for quite some time.
  • My husband’s respect. This is a tough one, but it is real. I felt my loss of control had embarrassed him. I couldn’t look him in the eye for fear of the disappointment I was sure I would see.
  • Sleep. Grant was born at 11:45 p.m. They took us to our room around 1:00 a.m. and I did not sleep. I lay there tense and in shock, all night long. No one knew. I didn’t sleep well for months.

The next couple of days in the hospital were a struggle as I attempted to feel and act like I felt as joyful as I did when Amelia was born. One nurse caught me in a weak, tearful moment and gruffly asked, “Are you depressed?!” I pulled it together enough to sternly pronounce, “No. I am a counselor. I would know if I were depressed.”

She backed off.

And I backed into my shell.

I pray you will tuck these insights into your heart:

  1. I rejected help. I think I was so embarrassed from the experience that I refused to accept or seek help. I closed up like a clam – hard and tight. But I was a wreck on the inside. If you feel as I did, please open yourself to help. Reach out to someone you trust in your head – even if your heart feels it can’t trust at all. 
  1. I was unable to be my own advocate. Sometimes people break down and are unable to speak for themselves – even “strong” people. We were not prepared for this to happen. If you know someone who is closed like a clam, be curious! They may act like they don’t want your help, but if you offer it tenderly, confidently, respectfully and consistently; they just might let you in.
  2. Joy is what I felt I should feel after giving birth, so I hid my pain. But honestly, most women struggle. My expectations for what “I should feel” made it harder to accept the pain and sadness I experienced.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Our beautiful, worth-every-bit-of-it kids (a few years back).

Friends,

Working on this piece reminds me how troubling this season of our parenting experience was. It has been a while since I shared this intensely personal and vulnerable story with anyone. I believe that is why most parents do not share their emotionally traumatic birthing stories or the pain they experience afterward.

I believe that is why I must.

I do not claim to be an expert in the area of depression. I share my reflections of our experience but if you are concerned that you or a loved one is depressed, please inform your doctor (or encourage them to inform theirs) – especially if you are pregnant.

Love,

Andrea Joy

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared

When I Should Feel Joy #2: Postpartum Depression

When I Should Feel Joy #3: Shame

When I Should Feel Joy #4: True Love

When I Should Feel Joy #5: Deeper Joy

11 Tips to Prevent and Fight Depression

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Frozen Top Ten

Frozen had a huge impact on me. So much so that it took me a year to work through my feelings and finally get it out.

And I’m not 8 years old.

That’s the beauty of art, isn’t it? It has the potential to transcend age and gender and culture and every other distinguishing barrier between people. Art digs deep into our guts and pulls out our humanity — allowing us to connect with anyone else who has guts too. So friends, are you willing to dig in? I give you my humanity: the top ten (of about 156) reasons Disney’s Frozen changed my life.

10. I love a good surprise. I had NO CLUE this movie would be anything other than a tolerable fluffy children’s movie about a cute snowman and a reindeer, let alone a life-altering inspiration for me. I was shocked as the movie transitioned from Cinderella’s castle to a dark, deep and beautiful land.

9.  Apparently “Do You Want To Build A Snowman” almost didn’t make the last cut. I am incredibly grateful it did. Our son has an internal alarm clock that wakes him hours before mine does. My loss of sleep the first four years of his life made for a lot of physical and emotional pain for me (and thus probably for everyone else in our family). The week Frozen hit theaters, he was waking his sister up at 5:00 in the morning to play and I was beside myself about it. When I saw Anna whisper “do you wanna build a snowman?!” to Elsa, I lost it. The entire song-sequence includes the loss of their friendship the loss of their parents and the quick passing of their childhood. Talk about putting things into perspective! Even as I type this I’m holding back tears (since I’m in a coffee shop!). I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to grasp and then embrace the innocence and beauty and friendship my children share. I still want them to sleep more, but I’m learning to sit and enjoy and appreciate them even when they disrupt my well-laid plans. So thankful for this.

8.  Frozen not only has songs in it, it is a musical of Broadway proportions. When I first heard Idina Menzel belt out “tell the guards to open up the gates,” I started to bawl. It’s one thing to sing out. It’s totally another thing to sing Idina. I grew up singing my heart out – often wondering if I should be quiet since people would sometimes stare or say things that embarrassed me. Most of the time I didn’t want attention, I just wanted to sing what was in me. What was in me was so intense that expressing it often felt too loud – like I was seeking attention. I often held something back. Then through postpartum depression that stretched into a couple of years, I was left without a song in my heart. I didn’t sing spontaneously. I didn’t sing hardly at all for over 4 years. When I first recognized Idina’s voice, I heard another voice say “This movie is a gift to you, Andrea. Receive it.” And so I opened myself to whatever it would bring.

7. Frozen’s emotional, artistic tendrils reached into cold and lonely places of my heart that I had abandoned in order to survive the necessary-mundane. Elsa has a beautiful gift that can enhance and bring joy to others’ lives. But even Elsa has her limits and sometimes using her gift causes big problems and relational strife. The wide range and intensity of her emotional, internal world directly impacts the expression of her gift in her life. She bears a great weight, knowing that her emotions impact others so powerfully. When the people around Elsa don’t know what to do with her, they silence and cover her. In effect they say, “You are too much. Your emotional instability is dangerous to us all.” Despite having an amazing family and support system growing up, I have always felt that I am too much. Like an iceberg, there is this part of me on the surface that I allow people to see and there is way more under the surface that I believe most people can’t or don’t want to handle. I’ve grown a ton in my ability to invite people to see the deeper parts of me in the past 12 years, but there always lingers a fear that if I start to express the intensity of my emotional world, people will shrug me off with “you think too much” and tidy me up with a trite “just give it to God” while never touching or seeing the depths of who I am as a woman. The movie gave me the opportunity to feel – intensely. In some ways it felt like waking up.

6. Oh, Olaf. Even Elsa has within her a certain capacity for innocence and faith and hope and love and sacrifice. She created the snow monster to keep people away, but her creation of Olaf proves that deep down, she most wants to enter into and celebrate the beauty of relationship.

5. “Let It Go” has become a beautiful anthem for self-expression. I love the song and singing it Idina – style has become the kind of goal for me that running a personal record in a marathon is for my racing friends. I still get chills every time I watch Elsa run up the ice stairs she creates as she sings “It’s time to see what I can do….I’m one with the wind and sky…” Sometimes I wonder if I could test the limits and break through. It’s astounding to think that my emotional, internal reality could potentially build an ice castle.

4. On the other hand, I know I can throw ice. I don’t mean to most of the time. Anna pushes Elsa’s emotional limits at the Coronation Ball and later in her ice castle. Elsa warns Anna that she needs to leave – she feels the intensity rising in herself and knows that if the pressure continues to build, she will burst. And burst, she did! And burst, I do. I HATE it. I HATE it when the internal pressure in me builds and then others are around to see the scary ice show. It’s terrifying for me and probably for them. I have been researching emotional sensitivity for the past 4 years and when I saw Frozen, I knew I had finally found the perfect example to explain what goes on inside of me. It was scary to see Elsa erupt in dangerous, icy defense. And it was eye opening for me to see how others experience it. I could genuinely say “I don’t want to hurt others, I want to relate to them in love instead of the fear that comes with the sensitivities I experience. I want more.”

3. Oh how I love Anna. She pursues a relationship with her sister at any cost to herself. Her naiveté is endearing. As someone who identifies so much with Elsa, it is hard for me to understand how Anna could diminish her own value and elevate Elsa’s so much. To me, Elsa is nothing but a hot mess without Anna. Anna is the hero. Anna is the inspiration. Anna is love. Anna’s actual loving sacrifice of self is the key to unlocking Elsa’s real power – love in relationship. I hate to think about where I would be without the Anna’s in my life. It wouldn’t be pretty.

2. For months I’ve wanted to shout this: “Let It Go is only a step in Elsa’s journey – it is not the end goal!” When Elsa tests those limits, she breaks right through them and creates an astonishing ice castle that only ELSA can live in. When Elsa lets it go, she explores her abilities and in the process she isolates herself. It’s cool to visit an ice castle, but where does one sleep? A philosopher/theologian can make amazing connections in her head but if she can’t share them with others, she is quite alone. Fear that others won’t understand – fear that others will run when she says her thoughts out loud – fear that she will offend or hurt others…these fears have kept me mostly quiet for a long time. I’ve learned a lot about tact and honesty and being considerate in my time exploring my own little ice castle, and I am very thankful for that. But there comes a time to come down from the mountain and offer one’s gift to the world with a balance of honesty and love. The world doesn’t need a bunch of ice castles, but ice rinks can be fun. Just ask everyone in Arendelle at the end of the movie. “Are you ready?” says Elsa with a gentle smile and nothing to prove. It is this scene, more than any other, that moves me. I feel called out in that scene. Nothing to prove. Time to share in honesty and love, without demand that others understand or stay or not be hurt.

The gift of ice magic is selfish and demanding when fear rules, but when love overcomes fear, it is a gift that can meet others right where they are and offers whatever it most wants to offer.

1. And so it is time for me to sing my heart out. To throw awesome parties. To write. To teach. To make kids feel special. To offer what I most want to offer without demanding anyone receive it. I had the Frozen soundtrack downloaded by the time we got home from the theater for the first time. I plugged my phone into the kitchen speaker and the kids and I sang and danced our hearts out for what felt like hours. Aaron even joined in when he saw what was happening. I’d never shown my kids such joy mixed with tears and love. Since then they have grown immeasurably in their own self-expression and love for the arts. I finally gave this gift to my kids – my family. Had I held it in, I may have unintentionally hurt them by uninspiring them to hold back.

DSC_0590Photo by Christina Klausen Photography     www.christinaklausenphotography.com

Thanks for hanging with me through my top 10 list. I hope to offer more on these topics in the future, but I need your help. I am inspired by relational connections. You share, I share: send me a message, respond to this post, share it with others. I’m also working hard to build a platform. Your follow on Medium or Twitter and your like of Andrea Joy Wenburg on Facebook can make a huge difference in helping me give others the opportunity to dig deep into their own guts and pull out their humanity — that true love might free them to let it go in relationship like never before.

Thawing,

Andrea

For more on my experience with depression:

When I Should Feel Joy #1: Unprepared