Did'ya blow?

When You Feel Like You’re Letting Everyone Down

One of the cruelest lies depression, anxiety, trauma, and other mental health conditions whisper is this:

“Everyone would be better off without me like this.”

Most people who are carrying these heavy burdens already know their struggles affect the people they love. They see the worry in a spouse’s face. They notice parents who never seem to stop watching them. They hear the exhaustion in a friend’s voice or feel guilty that their children have learned to tiptoe around difficult days.

You don’t need anyone to tell you your suffering has ripple effects. You already know.

Many people living with depression or chronic anxiety carry two burdens at the same time. They bear the weight of the illness itself—and the crushing guilt of believing they are disappointing everyone around them.

It can feel as though you’ve become the string someone keeps pulling on in a family mobile. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t choose this. Yet every difficult day seems to make everyone else’s world wobble too.

That can become almost unbearable.

You may find yourself apologizing for existing. Saying you’re sorry for another difficult morning. Sorry for another panic attack. Sorry for canceling plans. Sorry for needing help. Sorry for not being who you used to be.

But hear this carefully:

Your illness is not your identity.

Your diagnosis is not your value.

And your difficult season does not diminish your worth in the eyes of God.

Jesus never treated hurting people as inconveniences. He never rolled His eyes at the weary. He never shamed the anxious, the broken, or the exhausted for requiring compassion. Again and again, He drew near to those who believed they had become too much for everyone else.

He still does.

The people who love you may indeed be affected by what you’re carrying. That doesn’t mean you’ve failed them. It means you’re walking through a painful reality together. Love has always worked that way. Families rejoice together, grieve together, heal together, and sometimes simply survive together until brighter days come.

Please don’t mistake needing help for being a burden. Those are not the same thing.

Sadly, some people who turn to faith communities for support encounter misunderstanding or simplistic advice that leaves them feeling even more ashamed. They are told they simply need more faith, more prayer, or more discipline, as though clinical suffering could be solved by trying harder.

Jesus never approached people that way. He met them with compassion before correction. Presence before answers. Grace before expectations.

Again, He still does! 

If you’re struggling today, know this: there is zero condemnation from the heart of God toward you. You are not His disappointment. You are His beloved child, walking through a difficult medical, emotional, and spiritual journey in a broken world.

In Sanctuary Devotional, David Hoskins and I write often about the beautiful partnership between sound clinical care and deep spiritual formation. God often works through counselors, physicians, treatment teams, supportive families, faithful friends, and daily rhythms of grace. Healing rarely happens in isolation.

So if today you feel like you’re letting everyone down, stop for just a moment. Take a slow breath.

The people who love you don’t need you to be perfect. They need you to keep taking the next faithful step.

And God?

His hands are still big enough to hold you—even on the days when you feel too heavy to hold yourself.

Darin Michael Shaw, MDiv, MA, is a collaborative writer, researcher, and veteran of over twenty years in pastoral ministry who has navigated his own seasons of brokenness to find a deeper identity as a beloved son of God. Along with David Hoskins, he is the co-author of the newly released morning and evening devotional,Sanctuary Devotional: A Mental Health Journey Towards Hope & Healing[Click here to order your copy of the Sanctuary Devotional on Amazon]

I'm so happy to be here!

Lost My Girl to a Kid Named Ewee

I’d asked her. She’d said yes.

Just like that, we were going out.

We didn’t actually go anywhere, mind you. When you’re twelve, there aren’t too many places you can go without grown-up assistance. But if there had been any going to do, I’m sure we’d have done it together.

We rode the same school bus. We sat together and everything.

It was a proud feeling, I remember. Her name was Doreen, but that didn’t really matter. She was a girl, and not just any girl—she was my girl.

At lunchtime other kids would ask, “Are you the guy who’s going out with Doreen?”

Yep. That’s me. Share a seat with her on the bus, I do.

Our relationship lasted about three weeks. That’s like a silver anniversary in middle school years.

Alas, it ended when Doreen developed a crush on the new kid.

The new kid moved in down the end of the street. He came to our bus stop but didn’t speak to anyone. He just stood there like a mute. We didn’t even know his name.

The girls called him Ewee.

Yep. Pronounced just like it looks.

Ew-ee.

Where did he get a name like that? Were his parents high when they named him? Had they stepped in something?

Doreen vacated the seat next to me to sit next to… Ewee.

I played it cool.

On the bus, I sat with my back against the window and stretched my legs across the seat. No room for any girls—least of all a certain girl who had chosen to sit next to a pile of… Ewee.

Truth is, it was an anxious season for me.

The harsh reality?

I was the kid who got dumped by a girl… for a kid named… you know.

Another girl named Leslie rode our bus. One day she sat next to me.

You bet I moved my feet and made room for her. She was the only girl on the bus who hadn’t succumbed to the spell of Ewee.

“It comes from a song,” she told me. “Ewee. It’s part of the Pointer Sisters’ song He’s So Shy.”

I must have looked like I needed further explanation.

I did.

She quietly sang the lyric:

“He’s so shy! So good looking! He’s so shy! He’s really got me going! That sweet little boy who caught my eye… Ew-ee, ew-ee, baby!”

Ew-ee, ew-ee, baby?

Is it any wonder I didn’t listen to the Pointer Sisters? Like she was reading my mind, Leslie snarked, “I know. Stupid, isn’t it?”

It was at that very moment I noticed how incredibly attractive Leslie was. I sensed a connection.

I went with the impulse. “So… do you want to go out with me?”

I think she replied… “Ew.”

An excerpt from Story of Me, a memoir in short stories.