Depression is a horrible affliction. It’s as different from discouragement as a migraine is from a tension headache. One is devastating. The other distracting.
When the future looks more horrifying than death, death appears more appealing than life.
Considering that emergency rooms aren’t the happiest places, the dark haired girl seemed unexpectedly cheerful. Kinda’ like the hostess at an upscale restaurant. Only she wasn’t greeting celebrating couples or relaxing friends, she was admitting sick and injured people.
After getting my identifying information and the cause of my visit, she asked me to rate my pain from 1-10. While my right arm was red and swollen, and my elbow looked like Rudolph’s nose, I wasn’t in much pain. So I said, “Two.” If I had known then what I knew six hours later, I would have pressed hard on my elbow and said, “Eight.”
I was saddened by the untimely death of actor Philip Seymour Hoffman. His body, dressed in boxers and a T-shirt, was found in a bathroom of his apartment with a needle stuck in his left arm. My sorrow isn’t because I knew him. I didn’t. It’s because his performances touched me. He was so brilliant playing Truman Capote in the film, Capote, that he won the 2005 Academy Award for Best Actor. And I’m saddened to think of his three fatherless children and close friends.
Many believe that Christianity is a broad and accepting religion that would eliminate no one who sincerely seeks God. While they believe all religions have some technical distinctions, they believe all religions are basically the same. They would say, “It doesn’t matter how you get to God as long as you get there.”