Dancing with the Black Dog
\nBy Hal Haralson<\/p>\n
[Hal Haralson practices law in Austin and is a frequent contributor to Christian Ethics Today.]<\/p>\n
A recent best selling book was entitled, Dancing with the White Dog.<\/p>\n
Winston Churchill, who spent a lifetime battling depression, referred to his depression as "The Black Dog."<\/p>\n
I spent the weekend dancing with my Black Dog.<\/p>\n
He came growling out of the bushes with his lips curled back revealing white fangs and a vicious mouth flecked with foam. I was more scared than I have been in many years.<\/p>\n
Two things contributed to this frightening episode.<\/p>\n
The week before, I left Austin at 2:00 p.m. on Sunday for Freer, Texas-a four and one-half hour drive. Freer is near, by South Texas standards, Laredo on the Mexican border.<\/p>\n
For 15 years I`ve hunted deer one week in December on the 17,000-acre Lundell ranch. Harry Lundell, a close friend and owner of the ranch, was already there waiting for me.<\/p>\n
I drove "Old Red." This 1967 Ford pickup has been in the family for 26 years. I look like Jed Clampitt coming down the road with my homemade deer blind on the back.<\/p>\n
There were four of us hunting. We were in position by 6:00 a.m. Monday, came in to camp by noon, went back at 2:00 p.m., and then stayed until dark.<\/p>\n
This went on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday until noon, when I prepared to head back to Austin.<\/p>\n
It was hot. Deer don`t move until cold weather arrives. Thirty hours sitting in place and not a shot.<\/p>\n
The other contributing factor involved my law practice. I am a solo practitioner. Each month, I meet the overhead and pay bills. The last of November and the first two weeks in December the cash flow trickled down and stopped.<\/p>\n
I had no money to pay the bills. I thought about this for hours as I sat in the deer blind.<\/p>\n
I went hunting when there was no money. If the money didn`t come in I`d have to ask Judy (my wife of 41 years) for help. I hated this prospect.<\/p>\n
Just before I was ready to return to Austin on Thursday, Kinky came in with a beautiful nine-point buck draped over his jeep. The deer field-dressed 186 pounds (a monster).<\/p>\n
"They`re moving," he allowed. It had gotten colder the night before. I was torn. I needed to leave but I knew the hunting would pick up.<\/p>\n
I left. I somehow felt I had to get out of there. I was washed out.<\/p>\n
All the way home at 50-miles-per-hour (Old Red`s limit), I worried about the money.<\/p>\n
This had happened before and there had always been a solution. That didn`t matter. I was exhausted, frustrated, and disappointed that I had not fired a shot. And I couldn`t keep my mind off the money.<\/p>\n
I began to see the Black Dog lurking behind the bushes.<\/p>\n
I was diagnosed a manic depressive 35 years ago. By taking lithium, I have had no depression in 25 years. I was terrified, however, as I felt the symptoms.<\/p>\n
Fear, lack of confidence, dwelling on the worst that could possibly happen, not being able to keep my mind off these things-all of these washed over me.<\/p>\n
Waking at 3:00 a.m. and laying in bed the next morning my brain whirled as I was overwhelmed with "what if`s". What if I had to close my law practice (that happened once 25 years ago). What if I was put in the State Hospital (that happened once 30 years ago). What if Judy got angry and filed for divorce (after 41 years of marriage)?<\/p>\n
The fact that these things were unlikely meant nothing. My mind was a runaway train.<\/p>\n
I was angry that after 25 years this could be happening again.<\/p>\n
I covered it up, the worst thing I could do. A depressed person deals with depression by withdrawing.<\/p>\n
Finally, on Monday, I told Judy. She immediately offered me $2,000.00 to help with the bills.<\/p>\n
I knew she would do this. I didn`t want this. I felt I wasn`t carrying my part of the load. Judy is a psychotherapist in private practice and a much better money handler than I. I thought accepting her offer would be an admission of failure. I held off.<\/p>\n
Monday night was better. Tuesday night was my prayer group. We have met once a month for ten years and I looked forward to seeing my friends and telling them my experience.<\/p>\n
My feelings were mixed. I was somewhat hesitant and told them so.<\/p>\n
"Why were you reluctant to tell us?`, my friend Jev Sikes, a psychologist, asked a probing question. "I think it`s like a wound," I replied. "It`s so sore…so recent…I want to protect it." I slept better Tuesday night. The openness with my group was very healing.<\/p>\n
The next day, there was an appointment on my calendar that had been made while I was hunting. The lady was seeking an attorney to represent her in a divorce.<\/p>\n
"The first place I saw your name," she said to me, "was in the journal at the Quiet House."<\/p>\n
The Quiet House is at Laity Lodge on the Butt Foundation Ranch. I`ve been there many times.<\/p>\n
She left after two hours of conversation, signing an attorney\/client agreement and leaving a retainer that was more than enough to cover the bills I had worried about.<\/p>\n
The Black Dog came and went in three days. I know he`s still there, of course, lurking in the darkness.<\/p>\n
The fears were groundless. That`s beside the point. What happened here? Exhaustion, disappointment, fear so biting you can`t shake it. Shaken faith.<\/p>\n
Remember, Hal, God is there and never leaves you nor forsakes you.<\/p>\n
Thirty-five years ago he sent Ed Bush, an Episcopal priest, to my home when I was deep in depression. I didn`t want to list then, but I did.<\/p>\n
Ed said two things. "Be of good cheer" and "Everything is going to be all right." <\/p>\n
That is still God`s message, through Ed, thirty-five years later.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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