Making Friends With The Noonday Demon

Almost 3 years ago, I became aware that I was in a depression - that the noonday demon who had been part of my family and a familiar visitor in my life had come for an extended visit at this rather inconvenient moment.

I protested - there were no rooms in my life for a visit, it was just a minor flesh wound (wink wink nudge nudge), my tap dancing could get me through this. In a move motivated primarily by embarrassment, I went to see a doctor - despite the fact that I am one of those guys who never asks for directions or reads the collateral that comes with something, my marital connection predisposes me to a surprising open-ness to professional head shrinking. My doctor coached my Type A mind to consider I feel statements and after a period of hide & seek, one day I blurted out that I felt frightened, I felt hopeless, I felt anger. Then I sorta crumbled - scratch that, I REALLY crumbled.

Don't mistake my use of the term crumbling for some kind of Texas hyperbole - I imploded, I barely functioned, then the well got even deeper. For months on end, I ditched life and sat in a chair in my living room (the real one, not some imaginary one), occasionally getting up to move and sit in a chair at work. My wonderful doctor proceeded to do the longest in-take in clinical history, then put me on some medicine: 3 weeks of Klonopin, followed by 20 mg of Paxil each morning & evening.

As an unrepentant book geek, I looked for meaning & comfort in bound containers of other people's lives. One, like a feather floating down through a hurricane, I opened a Parker Palmer book & boom:

I remember one time a therapist and spiritual guide saying words that were eventually salvific for me. He said, "You seem to keep imaging your depression as the hand of an enemy trying to crush you. Why don't you try imaging it as the hand of a friend trying to press you down to ground on which it is safe to stand?" And that image has always stayed with me of this movement from the world of abstraction, the hot-air balloon that education so falsely represents as the good life, down to the ground in my tradition, the "ground of being" on which it's not only safe to stand but safe to fall. The ground will hold you if you fall, and you can get back up.

Well, at some point in that journey with depression, I was given by a friend some words from that extraordinary novel by T.H. White, The Once and Future King. This is a passage in which the young Arthur, king to be, in his depression, his dark night of the soul, has sought counsel from Merlin, the magician, who was his mentor. And I want to read these wonderful words which created a spark of light for me in the midst of that death-dealing episode of my life. Speaking to the young Arthur, Merlin says,

The best thing for being sad is to learn something. That is the only thing that never fails. You may grow old and trembling in your anatomies. You may lie awake at night listening to the disorder of your veins. You may miss your only love. You may see the world around you devastated by evil lunatics or know your honor trampled in the sewers of baser minds. There is only one thing for it, then: To learn. Learn why the world wags and what wags it. That is the only thing which the mind can never exhaust, never alienate, never be tortured by, never fear or distrust, and never dream of regretting. Learning is the thing for you.

"Learning is the thing for you." I read those words, and I began to understand that in the midst of death, there is life in learning. I could not do much in the darkness of my depression. I couldn't work. I couldn't connect with other people. But I could start to learn what was in there. I could grope around in the darkness and learn what and who was there. And, of course, those of you who have been on that journey know that part of what I found and learned about there was what Thomas Merton calls true self.

What Merlin knows, as he advises the young Arthur, is that education at its best these profound human transactions called knowing, teaching, and learning are not just about information, and they re not just about getting jobs. They are about healing. They are about wholeness. They are about empowerment, liberation, transcendence. They are about reclaiming the vitality of life.

Transcripts, Parker Palmer: Spirituality in Education OnLine

With some perspective now, I can look at my extended stay with the noonday demon as a gift - it literally re-oriented my life, grounding me in things like faith, family & friends that had been superfluous to the life of go go do do that I had chosen. My weekly, then bi-weekly, then monthly sessions with Dr. Woodrow were expensive - not just financially (a $245 hour that lasts only 45 minutes ?), but expensive in terms of my soul and my heart & my head. Over time, we talked through some of the relatives of the noonday demon (his cousin anxiety sorta buddied up with me at an earlier age, I am probably just a scant few clicks away from OCD and can surely get more manic than the average bear).

All this comes up for me, like watching videos from a vacation just part your memory horizon, because last week I wound down my medication and am trying life without the aid of Paxil. Please don't get me wrong - my doctor is a big fan of this, I am just trying this, I relatively certain that at some other point in my life (maybe next week ?) the wonders of science will aid me in my life. But I've stopped my now daily 10 mg of Paxil. No INCREDIBLE HULK transformations, no DTs (tho I feel a bit shaky and my sleep is off), no bender in Reno or Las Vegas planned.

Instead, I feel sorta like the smell after a rain storm in late summer. My life is much...um...ah different now (just check W@ or my bookshelf) - but in some ways, my life is more like itself than it has been for a long while. I know more about my love for my wife, kids & family - I am struggling to do what God seems to have called me to do and the gap between what I aspire for my life and what my life actually is has dwindled down most days to the space between here and now.

As always, the words of James Taylor help:

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

Now the thing about time is that time
Isn't really real
It's just your point of view
How does it feel for you
Einstein said he could never understand it all
Planets spinning through space
The smile upon your face
Welcome to the human race

Comments

[anaheim anaheim discount hotel hotel]

I just don't have much to say right now, but I guess it doesn't bother me. Basically nothing seems worth thinking about. Nothing notable happening these days. Shrug. Not that it matters. My mind is like a void. I've basically been doing nothing , not that it matters. More or less nothing going on. I guess it doesn't bother me. Not much on my mind.

[djchuang]

my own timing into that kind of place of darkness was also about 3 years ago, and I had my share of mind altering drugs.. appreciate your words to share about your breakthrough insight re: learning..

[frank]

it's so beautiful that you share this here. and you share it beautifully. you've probably read "darkness visible," the styron book about depression. it's a gem.

a separate but related thought: what shadows are forming in the men who rule this nation now? i wonder often. if they would stop and look and learn, what might they find?

the king arthur legend always make me cry.

[jen lemen]

what a gift, this post.
sweet dreams to you this night.

[bobbie]

i echo each and every comment here. your vulnerability and transparency bring life and hope. i too have been pressed down to the ground until it was safe to stand. thank you.

[iphy]

love you.

[bob c]

Thanks so much for folks' support & personal connects. It helps loads.

An update on getting off the Paxil - it's actually sorta like when you spin 'round & 'round - you feel dizzy & a bit disoriented. My wife the expert says this is normal (I am nothing but normal) and should reduce over the next few days.

[Lisa]

Man, this is so close to my experience - meds, Parker Palmer, work, sitting in the living room, the expensive counsellor (I call that my third university degree - it cost about the same). At the time the noonday demon finally got his teeth sunk right into my arse, I was practicing as a litigator specializing in commercial disputes at a downtown law firm. I left law entirely, but came back, went out on my own and do the type of law I love - mediation and collaborative family law. I can now control my stress and anxiety and feel like I'm living out of my stable and best self. I'm in the process of coming off my meds and while I feel exhilarated to be taking that step, part of me is scared about that noonday demon coming back.

My experience was that I didn't know how bad it was until I was well on the road to healing. I clearly recall setting in a small cafe in the 'burbs, reading Palmer's book "Let Your Life Speak". I came to the chapter when he was talking about his experience of depression and sat and wept. I had never come across my pain written in someone else's words.

As a fellow journeyer through this landscape of pain, fear, numbness and joy, I lift a glass with you, saying "Joy!".

[Mumcat]

Thanks for sharing, Bob.

[Christine]

You too? Thanks for telling your story. It's such a gift to know you. And an inspiration.

[Chris(tine)]

Bob - thanks so much for sharing this, it is very helpful to hear of other's stories of these struggles, which so many of us share, in some fashion.

I had never heard of the book Noontime Demon - thanks for the link. I did a quick search today for more about that, and about Parker Palmer. Did you know that they had both been featured on the Speaking of Faith radio show in January? If not, here's a link to the show, and there's a full audio feed:
http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/2003/01/17_depression/index.shtml

[Trey]

Real and brave and honest and touching. It helps to remember none of us is alone. Thanks for sharing it.

[will]

Bob - thank you for sharing openly what many of us have dealt with alone.

[Jason Clark]

Hi Bob, thanks for posting that for us all. 5 years ago, I had a complete nervous breakdown, depression, anxiety attacks...it runs in my family and to this day I still take medication from time to time, and have to manage my symptoms. Thanks for letting me know I'm not alone in this being part of my journey.

[Tim]

thank you, a wonderful and honest reflection. i enjoyed meeting you at ymsp, have appreciated getting to know you through blogs, and now have incredible respect for the integrity of your journey. i look forward to hearing further about the little courageous decisions you are making to embrace the wonder and mystery of all of this life.