Sunday, October 12, 2008
Nope, I'm not talking about the economy.
I am going to make several unpleasant confessions, and if I tick you off, I am sorry.
When people have wanted to talk to me in the last month about my "depression," I admit I have been defensive. Depression sounded like a condition I didn't want to have, another diagnosis to add to the heap around our house. I could almost agree with saying I "feel depressed," which sounds so much more temporary, but still I wanted to bark back, "OF COURSE I FEEL DEPRESSED, haven't you been paying any ATTENTION? YOU WOULD BE DEPRESSED TOO if you spent a day in my shoes (which, by the way, I DON'T THINK YOU COULD!!!)"
And I would say for the zillionth time to my husband, "It isn't really about things being worse, it's about..."
And he would finish for me, "...the war of attrition."
"Right," I would say. "It's cumulative."
"Right," he would say. "We're fried. Completely fried. And you are depressed."
Okay, okay, so alright already. I have been depressed. I haven't had the energy to brush my teeth sometimes and my stomach has hurt a lot and it turns out medically speaking I'm fine, so I guess I've been depressed. Why is it I feel a need to justify it? Why is it I feel like saying, "BUT..." and describing the last five years, as if to defend my right to my sadness?
I don't think there is anything bad about a person being depressed. Depression is not something to be ashamed of; it's something many people I love have battled.
Maybe it's guilt. So many special needs parents out there handle harder circumstances with more grace. Maybe it's denial. I have been known to reside in the land of denial before, and as they say, it ain't just a river in Egypt. Maybe it's the exhaustion, though. I truly have felt like I don't have time to do anything about depression. Recently a friend asked me why I wasn't blogging, and if I was doing anything else for an outlet. I so appreciate that. It came from love. But, at the moment that I read her words, a whole rant erupted in my mind's blog: "I don't want to DO anything! That's just it! I don't want to DO therapy or DO drugs or DO depression. I've been busy, I've been TIRED, I've been DOING autism, its therapies, its drugs, its endless DOING. And working. And parenting. And being a wife. And not feeling well. I DO every minute of every day and I don't want to DO depression. I am DO-NE."
And when I listened to my own thoughts, I thought: Well, aren't I ironic. Better get up off my depressed butt and roll up my sleeves.
So here I am again. Back to my "outlet." Hoping some of you are still out there.
Here's what I'm wondering:
If you have a special needs child, or if you don't: Have you ever been depressed?
And, if you are a special needs parent, how do you find balance? How do you take care of everyone, including yourself?
Posted by ghkcole at 8:48 PM