Yesterday morning I woke up to a dark world blanketed in a heavy wet fog. The streetlights cast hazy orange halos as I walked E-Grrrl and Mr. A to the bus stop in the damp cold. I was braced for a bitter, gray day.
Then the sun rose, determined to shuck off the fog, and slowly but surely, it prevailed. Mid-morning and we had blue skies, wisps of white cloud, and the thin clear light you only see in winter.
But at lunch all the color drained out of the world when a friend of mine shared horrifying news: a young woman she knew had committed suicide and taken her children with her by running the car engine in the closed garage of their home. Her husband was in Iraq. She had a young infant and a toddler, and I’m guessing she had post-partum depression too.
Trying to absorb the news, I wanted to cry. I wanted to wail and beat my chest like a character in a movie. I wanted to shake my fist at the heavens. I wanted to make time go backwards. I didn’t know this woman, but I’ve been treated for depression and seen how far it can take your from yourself and everyone you love. I know how hopeless depression feels. I also know it can be beat if you get help.
I understand this woman was a bright, vibrant personality who really strived to be successful in her life, and this doesn’t surprise me. Depression has many faces. Unlike in the movies, every depressed person isn’t a brooding, greasy-haired basket case who stays in a darkened room with buzzing flies and a growing pile of dirty dishes.
The face of depression is more often clean and well groomed. It’s not necessarily huddled in a corner but out in the world--getting groceries, going to the bank, dropping off and picking up kids, attending church, celebrating holidays, showing up at work. Depressed people make heroic efforts to live a life that looks normal, and while they may be slow moving, they aren’t weak. It takes incredible will to get through the day when all you want to do is sleep. It takes incredible strength to live when every cell of your body is saying “Die.”
Depression can happen to anyone at any time in any place. Sure, sometimes traumatic events trigger episodes of depression, but more often than not there isn’t a “reason” to be depressed other than screwed up brain chemistry. Untreated depression can kill people, destroy families, ruin careers, hurt children. It can lead to dependence on alcohol and drugs, and invite a whole slew of social problems into a life, into a home.
If you know someone who seems to be perpetually
please urge them to see a doctor. Offer to call and make the appointment for them, drive them to it if you have to, follow up with them when it’s over, stick with them until they feel better.
Be persistent because when someone is depressed, they don’t have the energy or emotional resources to help themselves. For me the mark of depression is inertia, the inability to set things in motion. That’s one factor that makes it so, so hard to get help. Because depression can creep up gradually, it can be hard to remember what life was like before it came to stay. Depressed people don’t always realize they’re depressed, and only their loved ones can remind them of what life was like before they became ill.
If you’re the person with the symptoms, please know you’re not alone, it’s not your fault, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you CAN feel better, be happy, enjoy your life again.
Don’t disappear into the fog. Don’t give up. Do get help. Truly, it’s just a phone call away.
Copyright 2006 Veronica McCabe Deschambault. All rights reserved. www.v-grrrl.com
December 1, 2006