We do not need degrees, or certificates, or special training to help people. What we need is a willing, loving heart.
Evelyn Moore (who is fondly known to most everyone as Ev) has a deep desire to aid others with hope and encouragement in their darkest hours.
“She has used her experience with depression to reach out to others suffering the same way, not with clinical expertise, not as a professional, but simply by caring, and listening from her heart,” said Avis Sperry, a local volunteer.
Moore volunteers by explaining her experience to small groups. She meets with people one on one for a walk on the beach, by talking and listening to them on the phone, or over a cup of coffee. She also has begun a weekly depression group about hope.
Dr. Jim Bennett, a professional counselor in Clinton, has admiration for Moore’s heart for healing.
“Evelyn knows first hand what it is like to sink into the depths of that seemingly dark, hopeless and helpless depressed state. She knows too, it can be overcome,” Bennett said. “She has given purpose and a special meaning to her own unhappy experience. She has devoted endless hours of physical and emotional energy to help and comfort others in her same situation. Evelyn also has provided support and encouragement to others by facilitating a depression group. I doubt if Evelyn fully realizes the positive impact she has had on other people’s lives.”
Moore has battled depression throughout her life. Whether one’s depression comes from a life event, chronic illness, or reasons unclear, the feelings of hopelessness and desperation are much the same, she says.
Moore describes some of her own journey.
“It’s mid-morning, I’ve been lying in bed frozen for hours. My eyes are the only part of me open to another day. Finally, somehow, I literally dr-a–a-g myself in s-l-o-w motion to the bathroom. I have to get to the grocery store today, I tell myself. But what if I start crying? What if someone sees me like this? I can’t hold a conversation; it’s too hard to even talk.”
She says even the simplest task was like climbing a wall of ice.
“I’d make myself get dressed and drive to the grocery store. I’d park the car, turn off the engine. I’d sit in the car it seems hours, for time slows down when we are so devasted. I am almost paralyzed. I can’t seem to open the car door. So home I go, crying uncontrollably, thinking I’m a complete failure.”
Her friends and family couldn’t understand why she didn’t just SNAP OUT OF IT, Moore said. She wondered too. She said she felt so unworthy, so isolated and alone.
“The one thing I could hang onto was the love of my little dog Annie,” she said. “I could talk to her, I could cry around her. Annie wasn’t afraid of my feelings, and she stayed by my side.”
After awhile, Moore said, she was so low, she gave up, and “settled into the darkness as a way of life.”
Still, she said, she knew she owed it to her family to try to get well.
One day she convinced herself that she just needed completely different surroundings. She went to a real estate office and listed for sale the house she and her husband Bob owned.
“Bob, bless his heart, was so good-natured about it, even though he had no desire to move,” Moore said. “And why would he, our home was paid for, and it was perfect for us. But I was convinced.
”Fortunately it never sold.”
Moore explained that she would isolate herself, without energy, feeling she had nothing to offer anyone.
“I knew this wasn’t good for me. I’d get a momentary reprieve from despair, and call some friends up to come over for lunch,” she said.
Then when it came close to the time for them to come over, she couldn’t bear to see anyone, and canceled.
“The hardest thing for me was that I did not even feel worthy enough to talk to God. I couldn’t even pray any longer. I hated myself. I hated everything about my life. I even thought God had abandoned me.”
Finally, Moore said, she bottomed out, and out of desperation reached out for help. She kept making phone calls. Eventually she found the help she needed. Through hard work, counseling and the right medication, she said, she could feel some joy again.
“The best part of all my faith in God came back, stronger than ever,” she said.
Moore considers it a shame that society puts a stigma on sickness of the mind. It should be no different from going for help for a chronic back problem, or cancer, since the mind and body are all connected.
“Today I am committed to doing whatever I can to remain mentally healthy, so I can keep doing the things that make me feel good,” she said. “Yes, I’ll still have bad days, we all do, but now I believe they can lift. I know what a profound effect our mind has on us. So I am very careful, about what I put in my mind, and remain aware of my own thoughts.”
Moore says she hopes anyone feeling depressed or hopeless will “please, oh please ask for help. You owe it to yourself; you owe it to people around you. You ARE worth it.”
She realizes that just reaching out for help can seem like a maze, and can feel like “walking through five feet of honey.” And not everyone you reach out to will be helpful.
“It’s OK to ask someone you trust to come over to help you make the calls, until you find the right help for you,” she said.
Moore sincerely offers herself as some help.
“I want you to know that you may call me anytime, to help you or someone you know,” she said. “Please know you are not alone. Gosh, after all, isn’t that what we’re on earth for, to lift one another up, when we are just plain unable to lift ourselves…
She adds, “I am here 321-5839, Ev.”
Evelyn Ruth Moore
Born: March 26, 1931, in Seattle, in a family with three siblings
Education: Edmonds High School
Family: Spouse Bob, married April 23, 1972; children: three of her own, three of Bob’s; seven grandchildren, one great-grandchild
Years on Whidbey: 40
Hobbies: sewing, knitting, fishing, traveling, writing, golfing and daydreaming, “I’m good at this one.”
South Whidbey people she admires: Pastor Jim Lindus of Trinity Church, for he treats everyone as if they are the most important person in the world to him. Also Julie O’Brien, Karl Olsen, Steve Shapiro, Debora Valis and Ardella Josephson.
The personal side of Moore
What mottos do you live by?
“There is always tomorrow, and I can live without it.”
What is a pet peeve?
“Rudeness. There is just never a reason for it.”
What is one of the hardest things you have had to do in life?
“Put my little dog, Annie, to sleep when she was dying of cancer. I loved her so. I love all animals.”
If you could be something other than a person, what would it be?
“A mouse in a corner, so I could observe people, without them knowing I was there.”
What values did you try to impart to your children?
“Love and care for people. And enjoy your life; it is short.”
What is your mission statement?
“Faith and helping people.”
If you were blind and were given sight for a minute, what would you choose to see?
“A cross. It would give me the promise of eternal life with God.”
What would you like to change in yourself?
“Listen more and judge less.”
What is something people have said to you when you were depressed that was NOT helpful?
“They have said it’s only in my head. I thought, ‘Yes, but isn’t that the worst place for it to be?'”
