I’ve been wanting to write about depression for a while now, but I keep stopping myself because I feel like I have no right. I have not suffered from depression personally, and so for me to talk about it seems a little like when Oprah sits and talks about raising kids, as if raising her dogs is the same thing.
However, last night as I was thinking about it, I realized that while I have no insight into the experience of depression, I am well versed in the role of someone who loves someone with depression. Ryan’s late teenage years and into his twenties a bit, he suffered from depression. And for a good long while, I made the mistake of thinking it was something he could just get over if he really wanted to. Then, when I realized that he couldn’t just “buck up”, my next plan was to heal him with my personal devotion. I figured that if I loved him more; if I was nicer, more helpful, more catering to his ideas, that it would make him all better. I was sure that my happiness could fill in his void. I thought I would simply be cheerful enough for both of us, as if optimism was something I could loan.
The thing is, depression is a personal experience with its own timeline. If there’s anything I know about depression, it’s just that. It is not fixed by love, and it doesn’t go away without a lengthy, drawn-out, balloon-shriveling, ice-melting, exhausting farewell party. The timeline, however, can be monumentally shortened with professional help. If you need some, please get some. If you love someone who needs some, your greatest gift will be supporting them in getting some. You might have to make a few phone calls. You might have to set an appointment. You might have to sit in a waiting room. You might have to have an uncomfortable, frank conversation. But, when it comes to a loved one, that’s not much to ask, is it?
There is no shame in asking for help. If I ever lose my reasoning skills and get a tattoo, it will be those very words right across my forehead. (Well, either that or a likeness of Regis Philbin, but probably the former.)
Ryan’s experience was relatively short-term. And by short-term, I’m talking a few years. He got help. Life got better. We both learned a lot. I learned that I couldn’t fix him. And maybe just as important, I learned to let him be. Wherever he was. I learned that the opposite of depression isn’t happiness, it’s healthiness.
The other thing I’ve come to realize is that I really like depressed people. I know that sounds a little strange, but it’s true. Some of my favorite people in the world are prone to it. Not every side effect of the disease is negative. Seriously, look at all of the amazing literature and poetry depression has given us. I’ve found that people who have dealt with it have a deeper understanding of what it means to truly live. It strips them of pretenses and often leaves a humbled, authentic person in its wake; vulnerable, as we all are, but more willing to show it. That’s downright admirable and endearing. (My next sentence was going to be, “So, let’s hear it for depression!” but I thought that might be going too far.)
I think that’s everything I have to say for now. I’ve got to go to Barnes & Noble and pick up Oprah’s new parenting book…
And thanks for this. I don’t have much of a right to talk about depression either, but I do get a taste of it with this @#%& cyclothymia thing. You’re completely right–depression, like any other illness, can’t be cured by love. But it suretheheck can be managed! I’ve seen that in my life, and in the lives of people I really love. And I’m pretty sure that any person on earth is worth the effort of healing, though (ironically) a person in the depths of depression cannot fathom that s/he is worth the effort. I guess that’s just one more reason we weren’t sent to earth to live alone, no?
Thanks for this Tiff.
Someone once explained severe depression to me this way. Telling someone who is severely depressed to just “buck up” would be the same as telling Josh to just decide to start making insulin again.
It is real. It can be frightening. But it can also get better. Healthy days can return. Life can still be good. But much like Josh, it does take a daily effort to monitor and take care of it.
Thanks for writing about this. It is amazing how wide spread depression is and how few actually get the help they need.
I agree with you and everyone else. I also think, it is so common, but rarely spoken about. It’s amazing (and comforting) to know that there is help out there for those who suffer. Unfortunately, so many people don’t know that they can be helped. Thanks for sharing….
I sure do love you. And the way you write. And think. Thanks, Tiff.
I agree with you and everyone who’s commented. Depression stinks. And it is real. I think realizing how it can hurt my children is what motivated me to get help.
I think it’s also important to realize that when you’re depressed, it doesn’t mean that you just cry all day, or even feel like it. For me, I felt completely overwhelmed by everything in life (I still fight this); I got angry easily; and I was so overwhelmed that I did very little each day.
Thank you for writing this. The more people understand depression, the more compassionate this world will be, and this post is one step closer to that world. Often times people who suffer from depression do it in silence, perhaps because a majority of people DO think it is something you can just “buck up” and get over. There’s nothing worse than being depressed and having others not “believe” you or understand.
I had a dear friend explain to me once that it is silly to expect to go through this life without a little mental illness. Not necessarily in the chronic sense, but most certainly in the acute. Just as we aren’t surprised to get a cold or break an arm, because, that just happens in life, there is no need to think getting a mental cold is so out of the ordinary. Some illnesses are more severe and longer lasting than others, mental or physical, but that is just how it goes.
Wow, I guess I had something to say on this topic too!
I am grateful you shared your thoughts.