Depression
I don't know why today we find it so taboo, but we do. I, too, am guilty of trying to pretend it doesn't exist. Like it's a swear word. For all I know, I'm not immune. Some days I feel this overwhelming sadness or emptiness, and then, out of nowhere, I think I'm better. (Or maybe I just pushed it back into my mind to come up again unexpectedly.) I've read so many different articles saying it is and isn't hereditary. It takes and destroys lives. It does so much more than just "bums people out."
Some people have a jaded view of depression. "Oh, snap out of it" or "Why don't you just cheer up?". That's not how it works. It's so much more complicated than that. While not everyone is suffering from depression, those who do suffer daily. Some people can naturally overcome depression through meditation, exercise, eating habits; but there are others who need professional help.
My mother is an example of one of those people who needs professional help and supervision. She has tried just about every pill that is on the market. Some helped for a little while and others made her symptoms so much worse to the point that she couldn't even think straight. She was officially diagnosed when she was about 36 years old, but suspected she was depressed for as long as she can remember. It's such a hard thing to watch. My mom was almost 31 when I was born (I am the older of two) so that's nearly 31 years of not being positive of what's "wrong" with her but having an idea and being afraid to speak up. Throwing a baby into the equation must have been hard. It wasn't until I was about 5 that she was diagnosed. Five years of trying to keep up with a baby/toddler/child and making sure they are as happy as can be, when she couldn't even get out of bed some mornings. When I look back, I think about how frustrated I would get with her because I wanted to do something and she "didn't feel like it." I didn't get why my mommy didn't want to play with me and why she wanted to nap all the time. I felt like it was my fault that she didn't enjoy doing these things with me. I felt like I did something wrong and I was being punished. I didn't do anything wrong. She was and is and always will be depressed. Hers isn't a temporary state-of-mind. Hers is permanent. She's in her early 50s. She is going to be dealing with this well into her 60s, 70s, and 80s. She's forced to deal with this forever. It's scary.
For a mother with depression as severe as hers, I would say she did a pretty great job. I remember a happy childhood. I remember her always doing her absolute best to provide for me. She went out of her way and sacrificed many things to make sure I had what I wanted and needed. She still does. I am currently living with her until I am able to work and get back on my feet. I do still get frustrated with her from time to time because some days she gets home from work and locks herself in her room to avoid talking to anybody. She's still battling every day and occasionally forgets to take her medication--which is noticeable--but seems to be as stable as she can get majority of the time.
I always told myself over and over how much I do not want to end up medicated and dependent on doctors to fix me. I wanted to try to work to fix myself naturally. I still do not want to end up having to take a pill every day just to put a smile on. So far, majority of the time, I don't feel I need to pretend to be happy. Majority of the time I'm just fine and can go on. Other times, I feel as if there is no getting better. No light. No sun. No happiness. Nothing. It's scary. Some moments I find myself looking at my daughter, and, while she makes me happier than I've ever been, I can't bring myself to keep a smile on. I love her. It's obvious that I love her and she knows it. It's just... some days are hard. It's not even full days. They're just random fleeting moments of emptiness and then just like that, poof! They're gone. I'm fine again and can laugh and giggle and play with Mar. I don't want her to ever have a moment like I did where she thought she did something wrong to make her mommy not want to play. I want her to look back and remember happiness and love and warmth and compassion. I want to do my best to make her life as happy as it can be. If that means I will have to seek professional help and possibly medication (after I'm done nursing), so be it. I, just like my mother, will do anything necessary so I can be there for Mar and make her life as great as possible.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this. It means so much to me. Your writing and insight are far above your age.
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome!
ReplyDelete