Lenten depression?

[Binary]

This year for Lent I decided to “go big” and give up my favorite hobby. I knew that it would be difficult, but not this difficult. I made a list of all the things that I could do to fill my time, but none of them still hold interest for me, even the things I normally love to do, like reading.

I understand that the idea of making these sacrifices is to free ourselves from attachments and make more room for God in our lives, but I just feel empty and grey. This has affected my disposition, my work, and my friendships. It’s clear to me that this hobby had an unhealthily large place in my life since without it I don’t feel passion for other things. I find myself increasingly wanting to be left alone by everyone, chronically bored, and eager to go to sleep in order to avoid dealing with not knowing what to do with myself.

I don’t want to offer any of this up to God begrudgingly, but I can’t seem to will myself to feel joy or do constructive things with my time. Is this a normal experience when you give up something you love? Am I doing Lent wrong by not being joyful about it?

 

[Splagchnizomai]

Consider that we are midway through Lent and this Sunday is Laetare Sunday!

The fourth Sunday of Lent is rather unique; like the third Sunday of Advent (“Gaudete Sunday”), the fourth Sunday of Lent is a break in an otherwise penitential season. The vestments for this day will be rose, as they are on Gaudete Sunday in Advent, and flowers may adorn the Altar. This day is called “Laetare Sunday” (also “Rose Sunday” ), and takes its name from the opening words of the Mass, the Introit’s “Laetare, Jerusalem.”(emphasis added by me)

fisheaters.com/customslent7.html

It is customary to relax some Lenten practices on Laetare Sunday.

Some encouragement from a blog …

The purpose of this Sunday is to give hope to all those crazed chocolate lovers who haven’t had a Hershey’s bar in three weeks. We’re halfway through the season, there’s still hope! In traditional parishes, this would be the week where organ playing is allowed and flowers can adorn the altar. In some parishes though it probably just means a chorus of snickering as everyone notices that the pastor is wearing pink.

 

[SuscipeMeDomine]

I did something similar one year. I held to what I had decided to fast from, but Lent that year seemed about a thousand years long.

It was eye-opening to me to discover how much I valued what I had given up and how much I missed it. It became something for me to look at in the future – whether I was giving it too much time and whether that was healthy. But at that time it was simply something very difficult to get through.

I was never so happy to have Easter arrive so that I could go back to what I had given up.

In part, though, this raised a question for me. Is Lent really intended to be a time of misery and Easter intended to be the time to go back to your “normal” way of doing things? Since then I’ve seen Lent more as a time to establish good habits that I want to carry on after Easter. If I’m devoting more time to prayer or almsgiving, for example, those become things I can continue long after Easter is over. Giving up something that’s a small sacrifice seems reasonable to me, but not something that makes me absolutely miserable to myself and/or miserable for other people to be around.

Just some random thoughts…

 

[Gidras05]

Keep in mind that one of the purposes of the Lenten sacrifice is self-denial, and detachment from worldly/material things. The fact that it’s hitting you so intensely is, like you say, testament to just how attached you are.

Dedicating the time, energy, and money in these actions towards good works is an even bigger point. For example, a group I know gave up all drinks besides water. Whenever they would want to drink something, they’d drink water, then write down what they originally wanted to drink and how much it would cost. At the end of the Lenten season, they tallied up all the money they “saved”, and gave it all to the poor.

Likewise, for me, I gave up video games, a huge hobby of mine, and substituted the time with Catechesis, and participating in more church functions, making friends and socializing more, and trying to involve myself in service opportunities. The fact is, when you start substituting these worldly things with things that truly bring you closer to God, or things that actually help others, it becomes so much more fulfilling.

At first I thought “wow this will be tough” but now it’s more like “wow even after Easter I’m probably going to limit myself more so I can make more time to help others or do this mission or go to this soup kitchen or go to Daily Mass”. It’s definitely something you have to learn to love.

As a good friend of mine told me, going to Daily Mass (for example) is something we should -want-, and the only way to actually want it is to fall in love with the Eucharist, with Christ. How do we fall in love with Christ? The same way we fall in love with any person. By spending time (Mass, adoration, good works, prayer) or communicating with that person, by contemplating on all the good things that this person has done for you, etc etc.

It should not be a time of misery or depression. It is a time of penance, a time of enlightenment, a time of self denial. And ultimately, a time of growth.

Good luck my friend =)

 

[Della]

I’d just like to add that when we take up a cross, even a small one, it’s not meant to be fun. Just the determination to sacrifice what pleases us for what causes us a bit of suffering is pleasing to God precisely because it cost us something.

When King David wanted to make an offering upon finding the ark the farmer who had been keeping it safe offered some of his own flocks (as I recall the story). Anyway, David would not accept this poor man’s offering that would be such a hardship on him but paid him for the animals saying to the farmer, “I will offer to the Lord nothing that did not cost me anything.”

Every year I give up sound–DVDs, CDs, radio, TV during the day when I am alone. Sometimes it can be very hard to hear nothing but the whirr of electronic devices, the fridge coming on and off and the heat swooshing and little else (it’s too cold to open our windows here). I’ve nearly gone crazy, especially the first couple of years, and I felt resentment over it. But then I remember how Christ suffered in silence to die on the cross and how Mary said nothing but simply stood by his side, sharing his suffering in her heart, and I think, “Yeah, I can do this for them and for those who will gain the benefit from my own small sacrifice.”

So hang in there. And remember that Sundays are exempt from the Lenten penance, so you could do your hobby then, after Mass. It will teach you to limit the amount of time you spend on it and to value how much time God has given you to do other things with your life, such as others have suggested.

 

[grasscutter]

Try also offering up your feelings of depression, etc. The Holy Spirit knows your heart. :console:

 

[Binary]

Thanks guys. Gidras, you bring up an interesting point in saying that doing good things is even more important than what we give up. This aspect of lent has been greatly under emphasized in my experience. I’ll try to think of something I can do like that group you mentioned. I bet having something positive to do will help me a lot instead of just sitting around not doing a specific thing.

 

[triumphguy]

This year for Lent I decided to “go big” and give up my favorite hobby. I knew that it would be difficult, but not this difficult. I made a list of all the things that I could do to fill my time, but none of them still hold interest for me, even the things I normally love to do, like reading.

I understand that the idea of making these sacrifices is to free ourselves from attachments and make more room for God in our lives, but I just feel empty and grey. This has affected my disposition, my work, and my friendships. It’s clear to me that this hobby had an unhealthily large place in my life since without it I don’t feel passion for other things. I find myself increasingly wanting to be left alone by everyone, chronically bored, and eager to go to sleep in order to avoid dealing with not knowing what to do with myself.

I don’t want to offer any of this up to God begrudgingly, but I can’t seem to will myself to feel joy or do constructive things with my time. Is this a normal experience when you give up something you love? Am I doing Lent wrong by not being joyful about it?

Your hobby may have given you some kind of hormone rush: adrenaline, testosterone, oxytocin etc., and you may be suffering from withdrawal. If that’s the case these feelings will lessen.

Maybe your hobby compensated for some kind of lack in certain areas in your life. In which case you are being challenged to deal with this lack.

It sounds like God could be doing some good work in you.

Remember our emotions are not accurate measure of God’s Grace working in us.

 

[odile53]

My spiritual director, who will probably not be with us here for another Lent, charged me with making joyful sacrifices: What positive thing could I be doing? “Enough with the chocolate, Odile, that’s what fifth graders do. This is about spiritual maturity!”

I decided to “fast” from sarcasm and snide comments, especially on the job. When I mentioned this to him, he told me that each time I was tempted to go down that route, I was to smile and say something nice about the person I was criticizing mentally. Or do something kind for them.

Week one was sheer torture, as grumbling and snotty remarks were my normal way of dealing with annoying people. From my first career in professional classical ballet, I have a great work ethic, and by nature am pretty intolerant of those who do not share it. I have to remember that not everyone is prepared to pursue a career as if it is a gift of God, and have to show everyone kindness, respect, and courtesy nonetheless.

About two PM on the first Friday of Lent, I went into the supply room (I work in a hospital nowadays,) got two tongue depressors and some adhesive tape, and fashioned a cross out of them. I taped the cross up over my desk. It reminds me that no matter what, any cross I carry is a couple of tongue depressors compared to the Cross that He carried for us and our sins.

One of the doctors (a Catholic,) stopped by and asked me about the tongue depressors. I told her.

It’s getting easier as Lent progresses: If a coworker does something that isn’t in line with standard operating procedure, I calmly and politely point it out to them, and leave it up to them to fix it, instead of groaning, sighing, doing it myself, and proclaiming my own righteousness to anyone stupid enough not to run the other way when they see me!

I’ve managed to detach myself somewhat, in other words, of being the arbiter of how things should be done. In the process, I’ve gotten a chance to look at some of my own faults, and have been able to discern how to correct them.

I’ve also been able to start seeing my coworkers as fellow struggling human beings, instead of personal annoyances, part of the Church Militant (I love that term!,) and have started to see the face of Christ in each of them. It’s making me a little more human, and a lot less of a pain in the (insert favorite anatomical feature here) to work with.

Maybe what you can do is take some of the time you invested in this hobby to joyfully do something of service to some person who needs it. Maybe that will help put some joy in this penitential season. Helping someone who needs it is one of the great joys of Christian living. Think of the warm fuzzies you get just holding a door open for a little old lady with a walker. Multiply that joy by innumerable opportunities to be warm, kind, and helpful with the time you’re saving by putting your hobby on hold. And more importantly, think of how the Lord smiles when He sees His kids treating each other with compassion and helpfulness!

Recall Jesus’ words about fasting and the Pharisees, who liked to make a show out of how deprived they were–“they already have their reward.” But as for us, we are to wash our faces, groom ourselves appropriately, and joyfully sacrifice. Our Father will see our efforts, and bless us for them. That’s when the reward comes.

The funny thing is this: It takes roughly five weeks for someone to ingrain a new habit, or adopt a new perception, according to neuroscience. Okay, that’s only thirty-five days, but you know what? Close enough for me! Those last five days or so we get to focus on the Passion of Christ instead of our own tongue depressors.

Of course, one could always go back to giving up chocolate: At least a few pounds could be shed that way!

 

[odile53]

I had started to reply to this but got interrupted numerous times by my beagle, who wanted my companionship.

I was charged at the beginning of this Lent by my spiritual director, who probably will not be among us for another Lent, to focus on a positive discipline instead of giving something up. “Enough with the chocolate, Odile, that’s for fifth graders. Do something positive for this Lent.”

I decided to “fast” from critical and sarcastic behavior, especially towards my coworkers, and treat each of them with the charity, courtesy, respect, and kindness that any other one of God’s kids deserves.

That’s what we are, after all: God’s kids. We’re all struggling human beings, all of us (whether we realize it or not, whether we profess Catholicism or not) members of the Church Militant (I love that term!) We’re all fighting a battle for our souls.

Moreover, my spiritual director ordered me, whenever I felt the temptation to be sarcastic, flippant, dismissive, or just plain nasty, to INSTEAD say something nice about the person in question or better yet, DO something nice for them. And (worse yet, to my old way of thinking,) SMILE when I did it!

Week one was sheer purgatory as I gritted my teeth a couple of dozen times a day and smiled humorouslessly. About two PM that Friday I went into the supply room, got a couple of tongue depressors and some adhesive tape, and fashioned a little cross out of them. I taped the cross up over my desk to remind me that any cross I carry today is a couple of tongue depressors compared to the Cross that He carried for our sins.

As time progressed it became more natural for me to smile instead of scowl, to be helpful rather than critical, and to be kind and gentle rather than sardonic and hostile.

A funny thing I noticed: Neuroscience tells us that it takes roughly five weeks to ingrain a new behavior. Okay, that’s thirty five days, but you know what? “Close enough for government work,” is what I say! We “get” to spend the last week of Lent focusing on Him Who gave all that we might live, instead of thinking about our tongue depressors.

Christ told us that the Pharisees liked to parade about in sackcloth with mournful expressions, to get the approval of other people, and that they had already gotten their reward. Instead, His followers were to spiff themselves up and joyfully fast, not looking like they were fasting, and that they would be rewarded.

Maybe using some of the time you used to invest in your hobby to be helpful to someone in your neighborhood might give you some of the joy of sacrifice. I’m thinking possibly do something nice for Mrs. Crabb, like bringing her garbage tote back in on garbage day. Or maybe picking up something at the post office for her. It doesn’t have to be big. Think of the last time you held a door open for a little old lady using a walker, and remember how good that felt. That’s the kind of joy of Christian service I’m talking about. Now multiply that by the time you saved over doing your favorite hobby, and the opportunities you have to go and treat other people well. That should give you a tremendous amount of Christian joy.

Remember when you were a kid and brought a bouquet of dandelions to your mother, and how she was so thrilled by that? That’s the way God is, I think: We’re His kids. He doesn’t expect mighty deeds. He’s thrilled with our little sacrifices. He loves us. Think of that: The Master of the Universe loves us. Little us. And He’s thrilled when we treat another one of His kids with compassion, for His sake.

I for one have abandoned my self perception of St. Odile the martyr of rush hour and paper cuts. The real martyrs went, and go, to their deaths singing the praises of the Lord, not groaning and moaning and kicking and screaming. Heck, I’ve taken to singing hymns in the shower in the morning this Lent! You’d have to know my singing voice to understand why I do it there, even my little beagle howls when I sing. But it improves my attitude for the commute to work. A couple of decades of the Rosary en route, and I’m ahead of the game for the day!

Maybe some of this sounds downright nutty, but you know? It works for me. It all reminds me of Christ’s command to love neighbor as self, and reminds me of the joy of the Resurrection.

After all, the suffering of Jesus was a means to get to the Resurrection. He lives, that we may live!

Or, I suppose, one might revert to giving up chocolate, and at least shed a couple of pounds that way.

May He bless you abundantly this Lent, that you may rejoice in His Resurrection.