Keep Moving

My blackberry beeped at 11:15 p.m. indicating a new email message had just arrived. I was just preparing to plug the phone into the charger for the night and decided to look at the message – to see who I’d have to call back the following morning. I knew far well, I wouldn’t be responding now since I had been ignoring calls all weekend.

The email read: “I can’t take it anymore. The pills, the stress, and the financial burden of working and being sick at the same time - it’s just too much. Do you know anyone – anyone at all that can help me? – I’m thinking about ending it all.”

Instantly, my fatigue was gone. I quickly dashed to the computer and opened the email on the computer. Regretfully, I didn’t recognize the screen name. I responded back by saying: “If it is this bad – it can only get better. Write me back and tell me more about your situation, so I can address it or refer you to someone who can help.”

Instantly, I received an email back: “It’s all just too much.”

“No – keep talking to me!” But that was it - nothing more. The writer remained anonymous. Was it someone that had read my column? Was it someone I knew – and they just assumed I’d recognize there screen name? Did they know that I was clergy? Why me? Why did I receive this message?

Two hours passed then came another “beep” on my Blackberry. I had now taken the phone under the covers with me and while I had been asleep, I was immediately alert.

“What do you know about terminal illness – why would you care?”

That was it. Still not a clue as to who was writing me. I texted back the following:“I know that you are in pain. I know that you’ve reached out for help – but now you must help me – help you. At least send me your name.” With that, I hit send.

I waited for a response. Nothing. I starred at the phone for twenty minutes. “Come on – write me – let me know who you are!” I kept saying that over and over in my mind.

I woke with a jolt at 5:30 a.m. I quickly glanced at the phone. The red light was blinking. I had a new message. All it said was “Tony”.

“Tony, you must let me know more about your situation. Please let me help.” I hit send once again.

As I showered and prepared for the day ahead, I wondered what it must be like to have no one to reach out too. I’m blessed. I have a varied circle of friends and professional colleagues to reach out too when I’m depressed (even though I rarely do) - What must it be like to have no one?

“Beep” – another message: “I live in Concord. I have HIV. – I can’t take it anymore.”

Finally, information I could use. I immediately referred him to the Contra Costa County’s Department of health’s AIDS Services Program. I forwarded the emails to a social worker that I knew there so she could keep the contact alive. For now, my work was done. I was the “bridge”. Hopefully, I had helped.

I said a prayer, thanking God for allowing me to be a conduit for my anonymous emailer. As I prayed, I also wondered – why me? And why did I suddenly no longer feel depressed?
Then it hit me. I had spent the entire weekend – isolating. It’s what I do when I get depressed. I have to get away from those I love; I have to be alone to wrestle my demons. To me, depression feels like an elephant on my chest. It renders me immoveable. In order to crawl out of it - I have to crawl into it.

Over the years I‘ve learned to cope with it by not denying it, but I’ve yet to conquer it. I have even learned to sense its approach. Whenever I feel that it’s about to show up - I endeavor to keep moving. If I keep moving, sometimes I can avoid it, or once it arrives, it leaves more quickly. However, this past weekend – I was too tired to move and it consumed me. But this time, something else intervened. This time, receiving that email jolted it right out of me. Once I received that email – it was gone.

Perhaps the old adage is true – the best way to help your self is to help someone else. As I left the house this morning, I felt good again. I felt like the Jack I know. And then I reflected – was that why I got that email? Did the universe do what I couldn’t do on my own? Maybe so – I know one thing for sure, I’m glad that something bigger than me, intervened. Tony was helped – and so was I. When all else fails – keep praying and keep moving – go do something for someone else!