When I moved to Sacramento, I started attending a new church. One Sunday, the pastor was talking about sin and our lives before Jesus. He surprised me when he said, “If you weren’t having fun, you were doing it wrong.” I remember thinking, “I must have been doing it wrong.” My life before Jesus had been full of anxiety, depression, and dread, with happiness occasionally stopping by to rub salt into the wounds.
I still remember this line from a poem I wrote back in 1998:
Happiness, thou art as elusive as effervescent winds to my grasping hands.
I had been depressed since childhood and often thought of ending it all. While therapists and the like might ask, “How often do you have suicidal thoughts?” a better question for me would have been, “How often do you not have suicidal thoughts?”
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