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Nefesh serves our Sinai community by raising awareness around mental health concerns, linking the congregation to resources, and sharing stories of courage and renewed resiliency.  The following was provided by Rick Shapiro who demonstrates courage and determination through his personal journey with depression and we express our gratitude for his willingness to offer his story and his wisdom.  We hope you find it inspiring and encouraging!

Please know Nefesh is here for you and if you need to know more about us or how we might help you, please contact the clergy as we may be able to help you find the resources you need for yourself, a family member or a friend.

You may also check out our Resource Page for information that you may find helpful.

I remember exactly when it happened. It was a bright sunny day in early July, and I was sitting having lunch with Lynn at the Elephant Bar in Santa Barbara, California. For several weeks I had been experiencing occasional bouts of melancholy and inexplicable crying. I wasn’t sure what was going on with me, but I more or less ignored it and continued to go to work and try to function normally. That day, in the middle of our lunch, I began sobbing uncontrollably, and I knew something was wrong.

I got up from the table and called my primary care physician, who told me to do two things: first, to go over to the local pharmacy and pick up a prescription for Zoloft that he was calling in immediately; and secondly, to go the next morning to a psychiatrist that he would call to get me an immediate appointment. I thank God every day for Dr. Jeff Kupperman, my doctor, and Dr. Michael Stuhlberg, my psychiatrist – they saved my life.

The next two years were the darkest and most painful times of my life. For a few months I continued to try to work, although in hindsight, I know that I was not really present. Then, right after the High Holy Days, things took a turn for the worse and I informed the Temple President that I had to take a medical leave. Then, after two months on leave, I tried to return to work, only to fail in my efforts, and return home. I submitted my resignation three weeks later and did not work again for 18 months.

Prior to my own illness, I had heard often from others that someone who has not suffered from depression cannot know the pain and agony that those afflicted with this disease live with every day. I had thought that I understood. I had worked with and counseled congregants over the years who were being treated for depression, and I honestly believed that I empathized with their suffering. But in the depths of my own illness, I can admit now that I suffered agonies far worse than I had ever imagined possible.

I am one of the fortunate ones – I was treated and able to return to life and to my calling of helping others in need. Many others have not been so fortunate. Their illness was likely far more severe, and it ultimately claims their lives. And to their credit, some of the friends and family members of those who have tragically taken their own lives have been courageous enough to speak of this illness as just that – an illness. They have been able to bring their loved ones’ affliction to the light of day, to shine a spotlight on a condition that is far too often hidden in the shadows with a sense of shame and embarrassment; far too often criticized and misunderstood; far too often stigmatized and hushed up in a conspiracy of silence.

There is progress beginning to be made. Those who care deeply are beginning to make a difference by encouraging those with mental illness to speak out and for those around them to listen without stigmatizing or minimizing the illness. Their message is simple: “Mental illness is real. It’s common. It’s treatable. And it’s ok to talk about it.”

Depression – indeed, all mental illness – is precisely that – an illness: no more and no less.

There is no cure – only treatment. For some, despite being treated, they will suffer with it constantly their entire lives. For others, again despite being treated, they will return to a normal life for a time, only to have their illness occur again and again, randomly pitching them back into the bottomless black pit of despair and disrupting their lives. And still others are unable to see a way out, to see a future without pain, and their illness takes their lives.

Depression, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, severe anxiety disorder, psychosis, obsessive-compulsive disorder, addiction, and so many more – they are all illnesses, and are no more to be hidden and stigmatized than are cancer or heart disease or the flu. There has been a conspiracy of silence and stigmatism in our society, a conspiracy that, behind closed doors, when no one is listening, uses words like, “crazy, nuts, off his rocker.” It is a conspiracy of fear and misunderstanding, a conspiracy that expresses itself in words like, “Just pick yourself up and get back to your life . . . come on, you can do it;” or “She’s not really sick – she’s just having a bad day;” or “I guess we’d better stay away from him for a while – there’s no telling what he might do.”