There is an old saying, “life is what happens while you’re making other plans.”  It is typically attributed to former Beatles musician, John Lennon, but can also be traced back to a 1950’s Reader’s Digest writer, Allen Saunders.   Though famous in their own time, who these men were isn’t really as important as the sentiment they so eloquently captured.  It seems to cut to the heart of that age-old question – Why does life just seem to happen to us, even in the midst of our best laid plans?  

            Life is full of ups and downs, twists and turns, and it can be downright brutal at times, but it can also be exhilarating, full of wonder and beauty.  It is unquestionably a mystery, a puzzle for the ages that, unless our lives are cut short, we each get a chance to solve.   Some of us plunge right into it full steam ahead, and some of us recoil from it.  Some of us quit and give up early; some of us will not be discouraged, no matter how great the challenge.  Regardless of obstacles or wide open pathways, life just keeps happening, and there’s no stopping it.  And just as it’s not that important who John Lennon or Allen Saunders were, my name too is not as important as what I am about to tell you.  For, I too, am a fellow traveler through this journey called life.

My given name is Robert Lee Johnson Jr., and if you’re an American, a name doesn’t get much more common than that, with the exception of, perhaps, John Smith.  I only recently found out that our family name was formerly Christiansen.  My great-great-grandfather, Johan, brought the family over to America from Norway in the later half of the 19^th century and changed his name to John Johnson; this was a common practice among immigrants of that day in an attempt to assimilate and blend into an American culture that was once known as the “Great Melting Pot.”

Most of my friends and co-workers call me Bob and know me as an encourager and an optimistic, outgoing, and friendly guy.  I would also hope that those closest to me would know me as a good husband and father and a man of faith and good character.   However, this was not always the case.    Nearly 30 years ago, I suffered through a major bout of depression; life had lost almost all meaning and no longer seemed worth living.  I was lost, discouraged, afraid, and drifting hopelessly toward giving up.  

Looking back, I’m not really sure what giving up looked like; all I knew at the time was that I didn’t want to find out.  My subconscious sense told me, this was where the suicidal people dwelt, and it scared the hell out of me.  

I have always considered myself a fighter, but even a fighter will eventually give in to quicksand as he or she slowly realizes the futility of struggling against the black, tar-like substance.  This is what depression can be like.  It just seems to permeate everything–every thought and area of your life–and though you fight and struggle against it, it just persists like a low dull tooth ache of the soul, or an all-day gloomy rain that goes on for months.

  The particular set of problems which led me into that dark place were mostly the result of self-inflicted wounds, poor decisions, and unhealthy attitudes about life in general, even though I would have told you at the time that I thought I had a good attitude. And please don’t get me wrong here, I am not making any broad sweeping judgements about whatever may be causing your depression, I am relating my story here.

I must confess that writing this has been extremely difficult.  Being overcome by depression and anxiety is like being drafted into a war no one wants to fight and then finding yourself on the beaches of Normandy with shells bursting all around your head. All you want to do is curl up and die, but you have to decide.  Do I just lie here and wait to die, or do I crawl inch by inch up the beach to get out of this tempest of despair and hopelessness?

On the actual beaches of Normandy during the early hours of the allied invasion on June 6^th, 1944, Colonel George Arthur Taylor, a Regimental Commander attempting to motivate his troops to move forward under a ferocious hail of enemy gun and artillery fire, told them, “There are two kinds of people who are staying on this beach: those who are dead and those who are going to die. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”           

When it comes to depression and anxiety, if you want to overcome it, you have to find a way to “get the hell off the beach.”  To overcome the paralyzing fear and darkness will require you to muster up the courage you didn’t know you had and to seek help and trust in the right leadership you didn’t know existed.

I don’t think anyone volunteers for this war either—which is what I believe depression and anxiety can reasonably be compared to—a war inside your head.  I, of course, mean no insult to our combat veterans, who have risked their lives on physical battlefields with real bullets, but this battlefield of the mind and spirit, though fought in the darkest recesses of our minds, is every bit as dangerous.  The ever increasing annual casualties to suicide are in the tens of thousands, with no end in sight to this conflict.  

To complicate matters, the suffering is relative to the sufferer, and because this is not a battle that can be observed physically, it can often be minimized if not approached with empathy and understanding.  As adults, if we’re not careful, we can sometimes look at the suffering of children and wonder how they can be so dramatically impacted by such minimal life stressors, having forgotten that we, too, prior to life’s seasoning, may have reacted in similar ways. 

I believe looking at depression and anxiety through a similar lens, with empathy and understanding, is the key.  For those on the outside looking in, it is easy to quickly dismiss the signs and symptoms of depression as the whimpering’s of the soft and weak.  However, to the sufferer, these symptoms are far more serious, and far too often they can be debilitating and life threatening. 

            So why do we sometimes become depressed, sad, and full of despair or overcome by anxiety?  It’s obviously not something we choose; it’s not what I chose.   And though I do not have a medical background or a license in psychology, I have a story I believe others can benefit from hearing.

As a veteran, I often look at life through the eyes of a soldier, which leads me to think that the training I have received in coping with depression is akin to a “battlefield commission.”  Just as soldiers have been promoted to positions of leadership on the battlefield to carry on the fight with the enemy, I believe there is a responsibility for those of us who have already engaged in this struggle of the mind, and learned how to win, to help others. 

This article is just the beginning of telling you my story and my observations on how this war can be won.  It’s about my journey through the war torn landscape of mental health and how this struggle has shaped me and helped me overcome depression and anxiety.  It is a story of unconventional warfare and ancient tactics that have been forgotten by our modern culture.  It is a path forward for the weary and restless combatants who just want peace and the hope of a future beyond this current suffering.  I hope in the coming installments you will find peace and hope as well.

Though your journey may currently seem long, hard and hopeless, know that IT IS WINNABLE and their is peace, joy and happiness on the other side if you just learn to patiently endure til the sunshine breaks through the storm and resolve in your mind to not give up and surrender to the darkness until you see those wonderful rays of light.

PEACE!