When my youngest child was four days old, my best friend became severely depressed and considered death. She was a wife of thirty years, and the mother of two little boys. For months, the launch had been harder, although when I touched her, she seemed fine. About two weeks before his death he told me he was sad and had seen a psychiatrist. I reminded him of all the good things he had in his life, and how he should break away from them.
That week I invited her to an art class, thinking I could get her out of the house and help in some way. He was very reluctant, but when I told him that we had already paid both of us, he agreed. I went to pick her up and she seemed very quiet. We had a good time in class, and it seemed a little lively. As we walked through the parking lot, I saw a woman who knew we were both a few cars down. I cried out to her and she walked over to talk to my friend and me. When we got in the car, my friend was very mad. He wanted to know why he had called that woman and told me that he didn’t want to talk to anyone. On the way home, I said, if he was going to be sad, he should help himself, do things even when he doesn’t like it. He had to “protrude”.
Honestly, at the time, I thought it would be helpful for me to know the limitations of depression. She woke up one morning, cleaned the house, bought groceries, prepared five freezer meals, her husband took her lunch, the kids mom he sent his own, and entered the garage, closed the doors, and started the car. He found her passing by.
I didn’t help her with anything I did. I didn’t understand how anyone could get to this point, and why he wouldn’t snap out of it. I have never been depressed, and I thought that only weak people were like that. I picked up my kids, went through a divorce, worked my way through college, and thought I was fine. I also opened my own business. But then something happened. The start is not wanting to be around people or have someone to talk to. Oh, I put on a happy face when I needed to, but I avoided it. All I wanted to do was go to bed during the day, and at night, when I could go to bed, I could not sleep. I was going I mean who was not the problem. I am finally convinced. I began to cry for no reason. Once I started, I couldn’t stop and lay in bed crying for hours.
One morning my clock went off and I got up. After three hours, I found myself standing in front of the worshiper with no memory of what I was doing in the middle. It totally scared me. I called a friend. When he heard her crying and asking what was wrong, I said, “I’m losing it. I’m losing it.” She talked to me and suggested I call the clinic and read the number to me. And I called her, and called her back, and said to her: I am going to cast there, and I was the end. He can’t believe I’m still crying all the time. That day I was admitted to the hospital for major depression. I stayed there for three weeks. I got on medication, talked to doctors, changed my life, and went on. This was in 2000.
The reason I’m writing this now, even though I’m afraid of my secret, is because there are so many people like me who don’t “get it” when it comes to depression. The best way I can describe it is to imagine a day when you feel really happy and multiply a hundredfold. It’s not something you can quit and it’s not something you can control, although I’ve always fought with the utmost power. Sadness, for too long, was that no one wanted to talk or listen. Admitting to someone, and then hearing them whispering to others, can be devastating. But if we do not bring sadness to light and talk about it, the people will go uncreated.
I learned a lot about depression. I still don’t recognize it in myself. My husband usually notices it before I do it and tells me to go back on my medication. That’s the time. When I was put on the medication, the doctors told me to take it for the rest of my life. But sometimes I start to feel good, and I don’t think I need it, and I leave. And as I finally learned, depression always creeps up on me slowly, and I’m in it before I understand what’s going on. It is a process of education itself.
If they are sad, know that people, even if they don’t understand, can do the best they can with those symptoms. Tell someone, even if it’s just your family doctor. If you think you know someone who is depressed, learn the signs and don’t let them go until they get help. It is not true that people who threaten death do not do it. My friend was threatened several times before she did it. I have stood on that cliff between living and retreating and slowly getting just too close to the edge at times. Sometimes, family and friends are more important than ever. There is hope. Don’t be ashamed, or ashamed to admit that you need help.
