On Presidents' Day I like to celebrate the birthday of my mental health hero.On those mornings I wake up embarrassed that I have aired my dirty laundry to the world--i.e. confessed to whomever reads my blog--that I am, in fact, a holy whackjob, I pull out a five dollar bill. And I look at Abraham Lincoln.
"The inclination to exchange thoughts with one another is probably an original impulse of our nature," Lincoln wrote in February of 1859. "If I be in pain I wish to let you know it, and to ask your sympathy and assistance; and my pleasurable emotions also, I wish to communicate to, and share with you."
If this great man, the most noble and courageous human being to ever breathe Illinois air (which was less polluted back then), could share his intimate self so freely with others, then what's holding me back? In fact, by reading the details of Lincoln's emotional anguish in articles about our 16th president and in Joshua Wolf Shenk's acclaimed book, "Lincoln's Melancholy: How Depression Challenged a President and Fueled His Greatness," I became inspired to tell my story.
It's to Abe, then, that I turn when my palms begin to sweat--when I start thinking that if Eric gets fired for telling his boss off (something he does twice a year) I'll never be able to land a real job (especially in the government) now that I've published my mental health record online.
Abe will set me straight. Because he walked through any fear he felt.
"It is a peculiar feature of Lincoln's story that, throughout his life, his response to suffering led to still greater suffering," Shenk writes in his fascinating book. "His story endures in large part because he sank so deeply into that suffering and came away with increased humility and determination.... In his strange mix of deference to divine authority and willful exercise of his own meager power, Lincoln achieved transcendent wisdom, the delicate fruit of a lifetime of pain."
Consider the following words penned by Lincoln when he was 32 years old, in January of 1841:
"I am now the most miserable man living. If what I felt were distributed to the whole human family there would not be one happy face on the earth. I must die or be better it appears to me."
And compare them to these sentences composed as part of the Gettysburg Address:
"It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us...that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."
Wow. That kind of transformation doesn't happen with a prescription of Prozac and a few therapy sessions (although that's a good starting point). No, his sort of dramatic conversion happens only after lots of pain, and of the worst type--from staring for days or months or years at that which is ugliest in you and turning it into something beautiful.
Having articulated the very torment I have known, this mental health champion offers me clues on how to pull forward--through faith, humor, poetry, and a sense of purpose—and how to use my despair toward redemption.
When I look into Lincoln's solemn eyes on my five dollar bill, I tap a sense of hope. Not hope that my sadness will evaporate completely. Because it certainly didn't for Lincoln. But hope that my tears might teach and instruct me, evolve me into a more compassionate, humble, resilient, disciplined, patient, determined, inspiring, and whole human being. Like my fellow depressive and hero. Who turns a three-digit number around this time.

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Thanks Therese. Great post. I don't think I ever knew Lincoln struggled with depression. It's good to know that even Presidents aren't immune from the monster of depression.
Peace.
Therese - I have a jumpy keyboard, so this may have already posted (if so, sorry). Anyway, I found out about your blog through another St. Mary's alum who was a theology major and friend of yours (and since this is public, I won't post her name or mine). I just wanted to let you know how much your blog touched me, as I've been battling a bit of my own depression after years of infertility. I debated whether or not to send this, didn't want to seem stalker-y or anything , but thought that everyone likes to hear something positive about him/herself, so here it is: you're still lovely inside and out, bravo on your blog, and God bless you!
Terese,thanks for the great post. President Lincoln is also one my most admired humans in the planet. I've never ceased to be amazed by this man's legacy and his Gettysburgh address is something that I read often.
He,most certainlt, was very "finely tuned" just like so many of us suffering from bipolarity or depression are.
I've also felt ashamed of myself for airing my failings to the world, and just this morning I was berating myself for having done so to a person who is so toxic, yet under the belief that she's a rock of stability, that will certainly use what I, so foolishly, shared with her, to my detriment.
Some go through life totally blinded and don't see their failings, those are usually the hardest of us all, a hardened heart is certainly much more critical than a mental condition, and much more deadly to others as well.
Wish there was an 'edit' function here.
Remember, Therese, a man wrote these words, who may one day reincarnate and read the words you wrote today. And wouldn't you know it, that you would make their day, whomever and where ever they may be. And it would not be a far gone conclusion, that they one day may also need your help. Imagine, the person who is the reincarnation of Abe,(Mr. Lincoln) trying to figure out, "Is he here just to tell everyone he is here, or is he here to help our great nation once again?" So if I may ask, "Would you one day want him for your President?" and "would you work to get him elected?"
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