When It Turns In

A friend told me something interesting about anxiety and depression…

Depression is anxiety turned inward. 

When people feel anxious and that they don’t have control over their situation that make them feel in a sense helpless, and then the anxiety “has no where to go,” it becomes depression. 

I guess it make sense that if you feel that you can’t really do anything to make things better–and no matter how hard you try–then you feel somewhat helpless/hopeless and get depressed

Perhaps it’s almost like a frustration at your own inability to change things you feel you need to change. 

That is why a person’s feeling some sense of control over their environment and life is so important. 

When things are looking down, it helps to try and do something to take back control over what feels like spiraling uncontrollable events and circumstances.  

Of course, only G-d really has control over what ultimately happens. 

But we need to do our part to try to make things better. 

Just taking that first (and second and third) step is freeing. 

I’m pretty sure that an element of this is that you can tell yourself that you “did everything you could” so in effect there is a lifting of guilt about the situation, but at the same time there is also a genuine feeling that you are here for a purpose and perhaps have made a difference in this world. 

Some people feel big and important, but the reality is that we are all so small in a very big world and universe where suffering and loss can strike (G-d forbid) at any moment. 

Man is but a speck of dust in the realm of things. 

But at the same time, our speck is filled with a soul of the living G-d. 

So we must do what we can to be a good influence and impact. 

Whatever it is, it is what we can do. 

If everyone–7.6 billion of us out there—does their part that can make a difference. 

Don’t let life’s anxieties become your depression.

Look for what you can contribute–do it!–try your best to make a difference and make the world better.

It’s what you’re here for and what you can positively do.  😉

(Source Photo: Andy Blumenthal)

Save Our Children

I was very taken by this ad yesterday for the National Center for Missing & Exploited Children. 

NCMEC is primarily funded by the Justice Department for preventing and assisting with solving child abductions, child sexual abuse, and child pornography. 

It’s horrible when something bad happens to to an adult, but when it happens to a child–that is catastrophic. 

I remember my dad used to say when he went to the funeral for a child–“A child is supposed to bury his [/her] parents, and not the other way around!”

It is unthinkable the pain that a helpless child goes through when taken or abused.

And for the parents, who are responsible for and love that child, I don’t think they can ever rest or be at peace for a single moment, until the child is, please G-d, safe again. 

This reminds me of the tragedy this week, where a one-year old child was one of the victims in a terror car-ramming at a bus stop in Israel that wounded 11 people. 

Unfortunately, the baby’s leg that had been nearly severed by the terror attack, was unfortunately lost despite heroic attempts by the doctors to save his leg.

What did this kid do to deserve such a trauma and fate? 

As the NCMEC motto states, “Every child deserves a safe childhood.”

How can people be so cruel to others and especially to innocent children?  

Despite G-d’s love and caring in this world, evil still exists and every time a child goes missing, is exploited, or is hurt/killed is proof of this, and is a mandate for our need to fight for their good. 😉

(Source Photo: Andy Blumenthal)

Helpless And Helping

The following is all true.

So I dreamed last night a scary dream…

I was lying prone in a horizontal but bent position.

My clothes were tattered rags and my legs bare.

I could see my legs, but could not move them–at all. 

The bottom of the legs by the ankles were completely skinny, diseased and bright sore red (like burnt), and the skin was falling off them.

I knew I was in immense pain, but could not feel anything.

My legs completely useless, in hopelessness, I looked upward and called out:

“Father! Father! Father!” 

I was looking for my dad, and hoping for him to come and help me somehow. 

Then, my voice turned and called:

“Father that art in heaven” and repeated this again. 

I was turning to G-d as the only one who could help me when everything else was stripped away. 

Then I awoke, and I was very afraid and yet somehow comforted–I had turned heavenward and found G-d. 

Later this morning, I went to the pool for a swim and as part of my post surgery rehabilitation. 

As I was swimming, I saw an old somewhat hunchback lady come to the pool.

I recognized her from other days when she does a little self-defined exercise routine against the side of the pool. 

But today, her lane at the sides were taken. 

Seeing that she was upset and couldn’t do her exercise in the center of the pool, I stopped swimming and went over to her.

I said, “Why don’t you share with me (there is plenty of room)?”

She hesitated and I could see maybe she needed help getting under the swim rope that divides the lanes, so I lifted it for her and told her reassuringly, “It’s no problem.”

And then she went under and did her exercise thing–and we shared.

It was such a small thing for me, but yet I could see it was a big deal for her–she was old and I could tell that she needed her routine.

The following is all true.

So I dreamed last night a scary dream…

I was lying prone in a horizontal but bent position.

My clothes were tattered rags and my legs bare.

I could see my legs, but could not move them–at all. 

The bottom of the legs by the ankles were completely skinny, diseased and bright sore red (like burnt), and the skin was falling off them.

I knew I was in immense pain, but could not feel anything.

My legs completely useless, in hopelessness, I looked upward and called out:

“Father! Father! Father!” 

I was looking for my dad (who I know deeply loved me and vice versa), and hoping for him to come and help me somehow. 

Then, my voice turned and called:

“Father that art in heaven” and repeated this again. 

I was turning to G-d as the only one who could help me when everything else was stripped away. 

Then I awoke, and I was very afraid and yet somehow comforted–I had turned heavenward and found G-d. 

Later this morning, I went to the pool for a swim and as part of my post surgery rehabilitation. 

As I was swimming, I saw an old somewhat hunchback lady come to the pool.

I recognized her from other days when she does a little self-defined exercise routine against the side of the pool. 

But today, her lane at the sides were taken. 

Seeing that she was upset and couldn’t do her exercise in the center of the pool, I stopped swimming and went over to her.

I said, “Why don’t you share with me (there is plenty of room)?”

She hesitated and I could see maybe she needed help getting under the swim rope that divides the lanes, so I lifted it for her and told her reassuringly, “It’s no problem.”

And then she went under and did her exercise thing–and we shared.

It was such a small thing for me, but yet I could see it was a big deal for her–she was old and I could tell that she needed her routine.

Sort of funny but, when I offered to help, I could practically here the angels of heaven let out a little song of joy–seriously, I did. 

And I thought to myself…Andy, you can learn!  😉

(Source Photo: Andy Blumenthal)

Sort of funny but, when I offered to help, I could practically here the angels of heaven let out a little song of joy–seriously, I did. 

And I thought to myself…Andy, you can learn!  😉

(Source Photo: Dannielle Blumenthal)

Some Game This Is

I remember as a kid, my grandfather lived down the block from us on the Upper West Side in Manhattan.

He was old and not in the best of health with a heart condition, hearing aids, and more.

One day, he was coming home from the bank, and he went into the elevator in his building.

He was followed by a punk, who after the elevator door closed, proceeded to grab my grandfather and choke him until he was unconscious.

The thug took his wallet and left my grandfather on the floor of the elevator.

Now, today I saw on the news about the Knockout Attack Game–and some “game” this is.

The attacker runs up behind the person unbeknownst and with full force slams their fist against a person head, knocking them unconscious, and when successful, this is done with one punch!

In other cases, an entire gang will attack, punching and kicking a victim until they stop moving.

While I couldn’t locate the exact video that happened in a neighborhood in NY to a Jewish woman, this video of an attack on a Muslim girl in London about a year ago, approximates it very closely.

While some victims of these attacks end up with broken jaws, skulls, shattered teeth, internal injuries, bleeding and more, others are not so lucky and end up dead.

I never forgot what happened to my grandfather and the cowardly schmuck that attacked this old, helpless man–but at least, he apparently did it for the money.

In these knockout attacks, when they ask the attackers why they do it, the response is for the fun and laughs.

What a commentary of our society, when people brutally attack other people–not for money, revenge, self-defense, or principle–but simply to see others needlessly suffer and to take a form of intense joy in it.

Perhaps, there are certain crimes for which the L-rd above must look down and mete out his own version of justice, in a way that restores order to this world of hope and despair.

Worry, Who Doesn’t?

Many people worry–they are afraid of all sorts of bad things that can happen.

And they ruminate on what ifs and what they can do about it–if anything.

The more people feel they have no control over a negative situation, the more they worry about it–they can feel helpless and hopeless–and this may even lead to depression.

I remember as a kid my dad telling me a story/joke about this–it went something like this:

One grandmother is talking to another.

She complains how her grandson always worries about going to school.

The other grandmother says, “Oh really, why?”

The first grandmother tells her that her grandson is worried because “The kids hate him. The teachers hate him. And everyone gives him a hard time.”

The other grandmother says, “So why doesn’t he go talk the principal?”

The first grandmother answers, “Because he is the principal!”

The moral of the story is that everyone has problems, and has worries, and it doesn’t matter who you are–whether you’re a kid in school or the principal in charge, a worker in the company or the CEO, and so on.

I think sometimes we lose sight of the frailty of all human beings and we think mistakingly that just because someone is successful or high up on the totem pole of life that they don’t have worries and problems.

Which reminds me of something else my grandfather used to say: “G-d doesn’t let any tree grow into the heavens.”

No matter how big a person gets, G-d reminds us of who is really boss–so chop chop on the tree and watch that big ego–we’re just people. 😉

(Source Photo of picture: Andy Blumenthal)