The Pity Party
DB Ryen
DB Ryen
Two sufferers – one patient and one doctor – were stuck in the mire of their own despair. Not much to be done except keep your distance and hope they climb out of it.
Length: Long, 2313 words
They took Jeremiah and put him into the cistern… It had no water in it, only mud, and Jeremiah sank down into the mud.
— Jeremiah 38:6
“Oh no, not Bethany again.”
My preceptor rolled his eyes and passed me her chart. “Come on. Let’s go sort her out again.”
It was a regular Tuesday afternoon in the Emergency Department – busy but not crazy. I was unfamiliar with this particular patient, but I assumed she was what staff called a “frequent flier”.
Bethany was in her early 20s but had the emotional maturity of a child. Developmental issues had necessitated a full-time care worker and residence in a group home. Bethany repeatedly lacerated herself. On this particular occasion, she had a piece of glass sticking out of her abdomen. Her care worker was annoyed at having to come back to hospital for the same self-inflicted ailment.
My preceptor was curt and abrupt. With barely a word spoken to the patient, he lifted her gown to reveal a palm-sized shard of broken glass, half protruding outward and half embedded in the generous layer of fat under her skin. A quick exam determined it had only penetrated through superficial tissue, not into the muscle or organs below. Before the patient could protest, he took a firm hold of the exposed edge and pulled the glass fragment straight out of her belly.
“Okay, sew her up," he said over his shoulder as he left the room.
I was somewhat taken aback by his cold demeanor. Nonetheless, I cheerfully spent the next forty-five minutes carefully suturing her incision, all the while chatting and sympathizing with her tough life situation. Unknowingly, I was giving her exactly what she wanted.
The next day, I was back for another shift... and so was Bethany. She had ripped out her sutures and reopened the wound. When she saw me, her face brightened at the prospect of more sympathy. But this time I recognized her behavior for what it was: self-inflicted harm to gain attention, commonly called Munchhausen Syndrome. I had no friendly words this time, just the same cold demeanor my preceptor had displayed the day prior. A quick bandage and she was sent out the door, disappointed with the abrupt service. I haven't seen her since.
Many of us have encountered people like Bethany. Mental or physical injuries are self-inflicted for emotional benefit. How many of us have been exasperated by a friend or relative who is “their own worst enemy”? They engage in harmful behaviors well aware of the damaging effects, only to bemoan their dire situation later. Strangely, they find comfort in their chronic suffering, and also in sympathy elicited from anyone willing to listen to their woeful story.
Self-pity is inherently self-centered and destructive, causing enormous heartache to loved ones. Billy Graham said this:
Self-pity can bring no enduring comfort. The fact is, it will only add to your misery. And unremitting grief will give you little consolation itself, for grief begets grief. (1)
All those sighs and shoulder shrugs and “Woe is me” comments don’t do us any good in the long run because self-pity keeps us stuck in the rut of our own despair.
Let’s be clear: self-pity is sin. Biblical scholar Christopher Wright says the same:
Self-pity is another crippling and very unhealthy emotion. It usually has an element of wounded pride: ‘I deserve better than this’. Like the so-called ‘martyr complex’, self-pity is by definition self-centered, expecting others to feel sorry for me and my suffering. In fact, it is a very subtle form of sin precisely because it is not recognized as sin at all. (2)
Like pride, the most sinister aspect of this sin is how blind the sufferers are to it.
If we're honest with ourselves, most of us have dabbled in self-pity at some point. To be fair, life can be hard – we all get beaten down sometimes. In the low points of life, it’s often entirely appropriate to have a good cry. Many of us need sympathy and help from others to recover. But the difference between grief (normal response to distress) and self-pity (abnormal inclination toward misery) is the effort to improve. The problem starts when we deliberately make bad choices to ensure the low times continue. Or worse yet, when we drag others down with us.
One characteristic of self-pity is oversharing. Years ago, when I first took a position in the anesthesia department of our local hospital, I met the former chief of staff. Bart was a seasoned physician who worked in the Emergency Department. One day, barely a week after meeting him, we were both sitting in the doctor's lounge casually discussing the weather or some other benign topic, when he abruptly said, “My wife and son just left me.”
It caught me off guard, not only the content of his statement but also the stone-faced lack of emotion with which he delivered it.
“I, uh, I'm so sorry to hear that, Bart.”
He then launched into how awful his life was, how they’d suddenly left for another city, and how lonely he was. His deadpan affect, devoid of any emotional response to his apparent distress, made me think he'd given this speech many times before. There was no mention of trying to get them back or patching up relationships. Just misery.
It was a strange, uncomfortable encounter. Now, let’s be clear that being vulnerable with close friends is undoubtedly important. However, overt openness to deliberately shock a listener is something that emotionally unhealthy people do. It’s fishing for sympathy. Normal people don’t share intimate details of every prior trauma to anyone who will listen. The lack of outward focus reveals that the intent isn’t improving their situation but rather eliciting attention.
Self-pitiers have every excuse to stay miserable, but they ultimately hold sufferers back from fulfilling their potential.
“There’s no point trying again because I’ve failed five times already.”
“I can’t leave – I’ll just end up back here anyway.”
“Whatdya mean, ‘Enter the race’. I have no legs!”
Sufferers come up with every excuse for why they “had to” walk down their self-destructive path again, blaming others or bad luck for their misfortune. But sin cannot be rationalized. Indeed, those with the strongest characters don’t let adverse circumstances dictate their happiness in life.
Helen Keller had every reason to pity herself. Although blind and deaf from an early age, she refused to be defined by her disabilities. Encouraged and supported by friends and benefactors, Keller attended Harvard University and was the first deaf and blind person in the US to graduate with a Bachelor of Arts degree. She went on to a remarkable career as an author, lecturer, and advocate for disabled people’s rights. Her words:
I thank God for my handicaps, for through them I have found myself, my work, and my God. (3)
The one thing self-pitiers are short on is hope, the idea that things can be better in the future. Hope is one of the cornerstones of our walk with Christ.
In this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. (Rom 8:24-25)
When hope fades away, life becomes drained of its color, making room for sins like self-pity. But were never meant to wallow in the mire.
Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light. (Mic 7:8)
Banishing self-pity from our heart begins with a conscious choice to get off the ground and put one foot in front of the other. Things might get better, or they might not, but hope holds fast that one day, perhaps not until the other side of death, they will.
No more excuses.
It’s tough to identify self-pity in the Bible, since this particular sin is so subtle. One possibility is Elijah, who was consumed with despair while running for his life.
He himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness. He came to a broom bush, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. “I have had enough, Lord,” he said. “Take my life; I am no better than my ancestors.” (1 Ki 19:4)
However, after some food and a nap, he was on his way to a divine appointment with the Lord on Mount Horeb. Having a hard day – or a hard week, or a hard month – and hitting rock-bottom doesn’t mean we’re guilty of self-pity. We all feel like we want to die sometimes. It’s staying at rock-bottom that’s the problem.
Jeremiah had a rough go. The “weeping prophet” came by his nickname honestly: his countrymen rarely listened to his dour messages and abused him terribly. One time he was literally stuck in the mire of an abandoned cistern, alone and abandoned. Jeremiah was never shy about expressing his misery.
Cursed be the day I was born! May the day my mother bore me not be blessed! Why did I ever come out of the womb to see trouble and sorrow and to end my days in shame? (Jer 20:14-18)
However, he willingly received help when others pulled him out of the depths. Despite numerous depressive episodes, Jeremiah remained God’s faithful servant. No evidence of self-pity despite his hard life and recurrent low mood.
Jonah may be the best example of self-pity in the Bible, but even then, it’s debatable. He tried to escape God’s command to preach repentance to the Assyrian capital of Nineveh, the enemy of Israel, but a massive sea creature set him straight. Sure enough, Nineveh repented and God relented of his threatened judgment, just as Jonah predicted would happen. So he pouted. Sitting east of the city, he bitterly sulked in hot sun. The withering of a plant, his only companion and relief from the heat, just made his mood worse.
The sun blazed on Jonah’s head so that he grew faint. He wanted to die, and said, “It would be better for me to die than to live.” But God said to Jonah, “Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?” “It is,” he said. “And I’m so angry I wish I were dead.” (Jonah 4:8-9)
Most certainly, Jonah was proud. Reading between the lines, we can almost hear him complaining, I deserve better than this, and my enemies should die. A diagnosis of self-pity is probable, but his story ends before we hear how he ultimately responded to God’s rebuke. Presumably, he made his way home and told his story to others, which is likely how it came to be included in the Bible.
We all have challenges in life. Some are enormously difficult to bear; most are unfair. However, God has made a way for us all to be “more than conquerors” (Rom 8:37). Any weakness has the potential to be a source of strength, because God can redeem anything.
I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor 12:9-10)
The Bible says to rejoice in misery! Celebrate the hard knocks! We might need a good cry first, but this command is the exact opposite of self-pity. We are able to be joyful and thankful at all times, because we have hope that God will cause “we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him” (Rom 8:28). Billy Graham again:
The “Hallelujah Chorus” was written by George Frederick Handel when he was poverty-stricken and suffering from a paralyzed right side and right arm. Affliction may be for our edification and Christian development. Sickness is one of the “all things” which work together for good to them that love God. Don’t resent it. Don’t be embittered by it. (4)
The Bible is clear that trouble is inevitable. However, God offers his divine provision and assistance to overcome the various trials and tribulations that befall us.
In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (Jn 16:33)
It’s not easy, but each of us must take responsibility for our lives and keep working to better our situation. Pity, sympathy, and compassion may come our way from those who care for us, but we should use them to climb out of the mire, not pull others in with us.
Self-pity is a prison we willingly lock ourselves into. Like any sin, it must be repented of. Pity can be a strange comfort in tough times, but at its core is pride, which both boils down to idolatry. This sin is invisible to sufferers, who often lack insight into their selfish condition.
Sometimes it’s difficult to discern between genuine emotional pain and the subconscious malingering of self-pity. Oversharing is one characteristic; Munchhausen syndrome (self-infliction of injury, whether real or imagined) is another. Excuses to avoid self-improvement abound. Self-pitiers are rarely grateful or joyful. And anyone who tries to help risks getting sucked into the pit themselves. But mostly, it just leaves a foul taste in the mouth. Something seems “off”.
There is a time for mourning. Weeping over pain or needing a sympathetic hug is entirely appropriate when bad stuff happens. But let’s be careful not to wallow in the mire. It’s not healthy. Rather, it’s sinful.
We must do everything we reasonably can to avoid languishing in our self-made pit of despair. We must climb out as soon as we can! And if we meet someone who refuses to help themselves, but instead just drags people into their drama, there’s only one appropriate course of action.
Run. Just run.
© D. B. Ryen Incorporated, March 2026.
All Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV). Biblica, Inc. 1973.
Quotes:
Graham, Billy (author), Joan Winmill Brown (editor). Day By Day with Billy Graham. World Wide Publications, 1976. June 18 entry.
Wright, Christopher J. H. The Message of Jeremiah (The Bible Speaks Today series). InterVarsity Press, 1987. Pg 181.
Keller, Helen. Quote accessed online from various sources, such as <<www.azquotes.com/quote/359174>>.
Graham, Billy (author), Joan Winmill Brown (editor). Day By Day with Billy Graham. World Wide Publications, 1976. February 1st entry.