Hear Me Now
by Deena Nyer Mendlowitz
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Our job is to listen. It is just that simple. And that’s complicated.
In this week's portion we read about the Tower of Babel.
“‘Come, let us build us a city, and a tower with its top in the sky, to make a name for ourselves; else we shall be scattered all over the world.’
God came down to look at the city and tower that humanity had built, and said, ‘If, as one people with one language for all, this is how they have begun to act, then nothing that they may propose to do will be out of their reach.
Let us, then, go down and confound their speech there, so that they shall not understand one another’s speech.’
Thus God scattered them from there over the face of the whole earth; and they stopped building the city.
That is why it was called Babel, because there G-d confounded the speech of the whole earth; and from there G-d scattered them over the face of the whole earth.” (Genesis 11:1-9)
What a beautiful thing God is giving us here. You will be surrounded by people who don't speak your language. This is not a "have-to" problem. It is a "get to" gift. You will get the chance to listen with intention.
I am a comedian who has been doing improv comedy for over 20 years. I am also someone who has spent the majority of my life living with depression, anxiety, and chronic suicidal ideation. And I have learned the only way to be good at improv or to help someone who is struggling with mental illness, is to listen.
I have also learned that even though there's no substitute for listening, that doesn't seem to stop any of us from trying to find one.
Listening is hard. I know. I am a person who loves to talk. I struggle with pauses on stage and off. But I have seen my life and health greatly impacted by those willing to listen.
Hillel famously said "That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow human. That is the whole Torah; the rest is commentary. Go learn"
The learning happens by listening. We know what's hateful to us, but to know what's helpful for others we need to listen.
It's vulnerable not knowing what to do, and we feel like it's a burden to ask, so instead we get through by making assumptions.
People often assume when you have suicidal thoughts you're a sad, struggling person always looking down at the ground. But the truth is I spend a lot of time looking up. I literally chase rainbows and sunsets and clouds. I want to make you laugh. I want to see your joy. I'm not a pessimist with a rotten outlook. I'm an optimist with a rotten disease. I'm filled with pain and anxiety, and also love and gratitude and silliness too.
The world tries to see it a certain way but this disease isn't just one thing, if it was we would have figured out how to conquer it by now.
For me, my brain decided long ago that in order to live in this world and feel safe I needed to know I didn't have to stay, and though these thoughts began as a protective friend they grew into a bully, a bully I continue to question and push back on, a bully that is exhausting, a bully that part of me still wants to be friends with.
And someone else living with these thoughts has a completely different story than this one, so if you can, listen to theirs too.
The point in scattering us is not so we are 100% fluent in each other's language. If we try hard and we listen and we become 5% more fluent, that is a huge gift.
I live with this disease and I'm not even 100% fluent in what's going on with me.
Listening about mental illness is challenging because we want to do more than listen. We want to, we feel we should be able to solve the problem, especially if we are close to the person.
Weekly, someone will ask me what they can do for someone they love who has depression. For a friend, family member, or partner of someone with depression, the first and best thing you can do for them, and just as importantly, yourself, is to take away any idea that you can or are supposed to cure the disease.
Let go of that false, burden-filled notion.
If this person had MS, or cancer, or diverticulitis you wouldn't think it was your responsibility to cure the disease. You would think it was your responsibility to support them through it.
When my depression is better, I'm able to do a lot of positive things in life and I want to make one thing very clear: I am not better because I have been doing positive things. Rather, I had to get better in order to do positive things.
And then, yes, making positive choices helps but there is a low point where that is just not part of the equation.
Even when I am at my worst I do make choices, to walk, to get out of bed, to be there for others, but the fact is that I make those choices because even as bad as stuff is, I happen to be able to do those things. That's how the disease manifests for me. But for other people, they are not able to get out of bed.
And they are fighting just as hard as I am
When we see someone who is struggling with depression, we feel we need to encourage them to make healthy choices; exercise, eat kale, count your blessings.
But the most important thing we can do is listen and encourage them to get professional help because then, hopefully, they will get a little bit better and they will be able to make those life affirming choices.
Frankly, when I am at my worst, one of the only reasons I try to walk everyday is so when somebody says to me "Hey, you should really exercise, that'll make you feel better!" I can say "Yes I already did! and I still want to die!"
There is no one cure for depression. There is no one tool. This disease, like many others, requires patience and building up your resources as much as you can so when stuff is at its worst you can get through. It's about getting the canned goods for your fallout shelter.
And that is the job, in many ways for the person with the disease, and the best way they can work on building up their resources is by having people who support them through the disease, who listen even, and especially, when progress is at a standstill.
It is scary to not be able to solve something that seems like it should be solvable. So let go of the idea that you should be able to solve it and let yourself know that your goal is to be there and to listen.
People often put the word “just” before listen, saying “I want to do more than just listen.” But listening isn't the small job, it's the big one.
We are all humans scattered in a land, each speaking a language no one will ever fully understand. So we listen and we learn from others because that's the only way we'll be able to build a tower worth our efforts.
Deena Nyer Mendlowitz is an improviser, a stand-up comedian, an educator, and a mental health advocate. Deena trained at The Second City Cleveland and at both The Second City and Annoyance Theater in Chicago. In 2024 and 2025 she was named Best Improv Comedy Performer in Cleveland and in 2025, Scene Magazine named her as one of best female comics in Cleveland. She was also honored as a Cleveland Jewish News Difference Maker for the work she has done using comedy to promote mental health awareness and to destigmatize mental illness. Her work has been featured on NPR and in Kveller and USA Today. Deena performs, teaches, and coaches improv regularly at Imposters Theater. She is also the creator of Mental Illness and Friends; a live mental health comedy talk show that combines stand-up, improv, music, and open, honest dialogue with other artists living with mental illness.