I want to be sure that when I write about depression (and will also be including this in my book), that you understand that I know we are all living different lives.
I was just at my daughter’s for Halloween. Her and her husband work full-time. They have two young boys, one is ten, the other is eight. The eight-year old has Down syndrome.
She would love to stay home except they know they will be financially supporting the one child for his entire life not to mention funding college for the older child while planning for their own retirement someday. So they work hard to try and save as much as they can.
My daughter struggles with anxiety. As a teen-ager she struggled with anorexia. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t love and admire her. I’m serious. She is the kindest, sweetest, most-giving person I know. And that’s not just me talking.
She is also an incredible mother jumping from working full-time, being a room mom, taking the oldest one weekly for math tutoring, soccer practice, lego league, and taking the youngest child one one day a week for behavioral therapy. I could go on.
I’m not just saying this because I’m a proud mom, but to also say something even more important. I realized when we were there that while all the advice I give about depression, for all the reading and research I’ve done, I am acutely aware that we all are at different places in our lives.
Some of you are younger, some older. Some maybe still in high school. Some of you struggle with anxiety more than depression. Some with obsessive thinking. Some of you take medication to help and some don’t. Our “stories” are truly unique.
While I never want to go through another depressive episode, I don’t want to forget it either. I want to remember.
And yet I struggle as well. So when I write things like “Get out of bed”, I almost cringe at the simplicity of it. It almost sounds patronizing.
When I suggest you monitor your habits and words, I think of young moms, like my daughter, who barely have time to breathe much less monitor anything.
When I write, “Trust God in your depression”., I think of all the times I don’t.
I almost decided to quit writing thebook because I know how it feels to be so mentally and emotionally miserable, you just want to go to bed and sleep until your depression gets better. I mean who wants to work so hard?
I know that however simple and trite the advice sounds, in actuality, it’s just plain hard work. But I know it works because what I write agrees with the best mental health research I can find. I know it works because it worked for me and others.
But I get it. There are times I think my heart will break for the people I love. I HATE to see any of them struggling with anxiety and depression. If I could take it away with a wave of my hand, I honestly think I would.
I know that my own depression has made me a person who feels passionately about this issue and compassionately about those I know who battle their demons.
I have been there. More than once. And yet I am here, depression-free after many years. And these years have not been all rosy. I’ve had my crisis’s through these years. But I kept working, using those tools I know are helpful.
But I am aware that tomorrow I might have to deal with some horrible stuff. How will I do then when life isn’t so good?
The honest answer?
I’m not sure I know. I know how I want to do. I want to trust God no matter what. I want to love others, no matter what. I what to give of myself no matter what. I want to be generous and full of grace, no matter what. I want to be a beacon of hope of others, no matter what.
I wrote this today because I wanted to be honest and forthright.
I wanted you to know that my heart breaks for anyone who is currently battling depression or loves someone who does.
Again, if you want to “talk” but don’t want to do it here, please go to email@example.com. I promise to answer. Just type “thegiftof depression” on the subject line.
God bless you and I so hope you have a good day.
The post, “I want to be sure you understand, I get it.” appeared first today on thegiftofdepression.com.