On a recent visit, my teenage granddaughter and I were discussing depression. I was surprised when she said “I didn’t know you suffered from depression!” “It’s something that I have struggled with all my life”, I replied. How could anyone who knew me well NOT know that I suffered from depression? Perhaps the answer is that I don’t often say it out loud, and I don’t think that I am alone in that respect. I also don’t recognize the depression until I have been in the bottomless pit for weeks, sometimes months. It’s been a cycle for as long as I can remember.
I don’t escape into alcohol or drugs. My escape is just “checking out”. I don’t answer the door or phone, although I usually do answer emails. I play endless hours on the computer, puzzle games that require me to think of the game, and not what is really going on. When I am done, I go to sleep. Then get up to play again. I don’t dress or shower for days, staying in whatever I happened to fall asleep in. I don’t look around my house to see the dishes undone, the bed unmade, the living room dust, or the things scattered and needing to be put away. I don’t have a full length mirror anywhere in my house. I don’t maintain any close relationships. And, most importantly, I never tell anyone I am depressed. To the world, I am just fine, with the exception of the reclusive life I have chosen. I tell myself it is safer, and no one can hurt me. The truth is that it’s a self inflicted prison.
In the past, I have taken depression medications, but never with any success. They just don’t seem to work for me. And I have also tried therapy. I have found only one therapist in the last 30 years who I could connect with, work with, and actually helped me. That was in the 80s. Most seem more concerned with their financial survival in this tough medical climate…something my logical mind understands, yet this doesn’t serve my needs. It feels like the times I have reached out have been met with block walls; I don’t have good insurance, or the financial means to pay for care. So, I stay locked up in my depression.
Many who suffer from depression choose suicide. I know, first hand, what that does to the survivors. Twice in my life, members of my family-my brother and an uncle I was living with-committed suicide. The legacy that they left the ones who remained was one of incredible sadness, guilt, and a lifetime of why. In my heart of hearts, I don’t believe they would have knowingly inflicted that much pain on those who were left to deal with their choice. That doesn’t mean that I haven’t wished that my life would come to an end…taking me out of the pain, misery and hopelessness. I don’t think that I would ever take an active role in ending my life, but I do often wish that my medical problem would just end it for me. No guilt for the survivors, and a solution for my endless pain. After all, we all die sometime, and I do feel like there is little hope for solutions. I don’t see a way out.
I had a dream not long ago, where I was in a car, and I was in a parking lot. Other cars pulled in front of me, and behind me. I could not go forward or back, and there was no exit from the side. The people in the other cars were dangerous, like gang members, and fear wouldn’t let me leave the car. Looking back, I think that this reflects my current situation.
Yesterday, when I logged on to facebook to play my Mahjong game, I noticed that a relative had posted that my cousin was in ICU, and the inference was that he had attempted suicide. This is the son of my uncle who was successful in his suicide. I know he has been suffering from depression and has not found any relief. One side of me understands, but another is angry. How could he do this to his children and grandchildren, let alone the other family and friends in his life? He KNOWS what survivor guilt is, and yet he would inflict that upon them! Even I, a recluse, know that there are others who would be deeply injured if I chose suicide.
My thoughts went to my granddaughter and her statements and questions about depression. Yes, I am in a very deep depression, but no, suicide is not the answer. I don’t know if, when, how I will ever find relief from this terrible pit, but I do know that her face and voice are powerful. We often advise our children, but most often they listen to what we DO, not what we say.
Maybe she is that angel sent to me to remind me to hold on for one more minute, hour, day…..
The Pit
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Hi,
Welcome to our little family here.
I have been in the mental health system, for what seems forever. As a consumer not as a giver.
Your post reminded me of something that has been drummed into my head over the years, because at one point I was considering suicide.
I also am a mother and a grandmother.
Was told that the children of those people that commit suicide and multiple times more likely, to commit suicide themselves.
What a legacy.
Welcome to our little family here.
I have been in the mental health system, for what seems forever. As a consumer not as a giver.
Your post reminded me of something that has been drummed into my head over the years, because at one point I was considering suicide.
I also am a mother and a grandmother.
Was told that the children of those people that commit suicide and multiple times more likely, to commit suicide themselves.
What a legacy.
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CapeCodAndBroke
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Thu Jan 20, 2011 3:53 pm
Thank you for the welcome.
I believe that the statistics you talked about are accurate, but I certainly can't understand why. Only those who have been through this can fully appreciate what it does to those who are left to pick up the pieces.
At 16, I was living with my uncle, whom I idolized. I knew that he was having marital difficulties. But I was enjoying my high school days, and enjoyed feeling like a normal kid for the first time in my life. One day, he drove me to school, and told me he wouldn't be there when I got home. He said he loved me, and that everything would be ok. I just blew him off, thinking that I would see him later. I hugged and kissed him goodbye. That day, I was working on the school play after normal school hours, and didn't get home until late. My boyfriend drove me home, and we noticed lots of cars there. I thought my aunt was entertaining again. He asked if I wanted him to come inside, and I said no. I walked inside, to find lots of family members I hadn't seen in quite awhile. No one said anything to me...it got very quiet. I walked into the kitchen to find my aunt drunk. She looked up and said she needed to talk to me. She took me in the bedroom and said "your uncle took you to school today, then came home and hung himself". It took me DECADES to finally come to terms with the fact that it wasn't my fault.
My brother did the same thing about 20 years later.
No, I would never do that - even to someone I really despised. So I am angry at my cousin, for I know that he knows too. Even though I suffer severe depression, I could not do that to another living soul, and I don't understand those who can.
I believe that the statistics you talked about are accurate, but I certainly can't understand why. Only those who have been through this can fully appreciate what it does to those who are left to pick up the pieces.
At 16, I was living with my uncle, whom I idolized. I knew that he was having marital difficulties. But I was enjoying my high school days, and enjoyed feeling like a normal kid for the first time in my life. One day, he drove me to school, and told me he wouldn't be there when I got home. He said he loved me, and that everything would be ok. I just blew him off, thinking that I would see him later. I hugged and kissed him goodbye. That day, I was working on the school play after normal school hours, and didn't get home until late. My boyfriend drove me home, and we noticed lots of cars there. I thought my aunt was entertaining again. He asked if I wanted him to come inside, and I said no. I walked inside, to find lots of family members I hadn't seen in quite awhile. No one said anything to me...it got very quiet. I walked into the kitchen to find my aunt drunk. She looked up and said she needed to talk to me. She took me in the bedroom and said "your uncle took you to school today, then came home and hung himself". It took me DECADES to finally come to terms with the fact that it wasn't my fault.
My brother did the same thing about 20 years later.
No, I would never do that - even to someone I really despised. So I am angry at my cousin, for I know that he knows too. Even though I suffer severe depression, I could not do that to another living soul, and I don't understand those who can.
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CapeCodAndBroke
- Posts: 3
- Joined: Thu Jan 20, 2011 3:53 pm
Thank you for the welcome.
When my daughter began experiencing depression, I didn't recognize it as such, because my depression manifests itself very differently from hers. I only knew my kind of depression, not hers, and when I tried to help, she strongly rejected it, and then I felt hurt and rejected..feeding my depression more. I wasn't the best person to help her.
I do know there are lots of outreach programs for younger people who suffer from depression. What they do, I don't know. And how to get her there, again I don't know. Maybe ask her to go with you, then let her learn about it, and find what works for her. My daughter found help on her own - gave it a name - and she's been doing much better for the last several years. She found meds that work for her. She can model for her daughter, for which I am eternally grateful.
Just as domestic violence is cyclical, I think that depression is also cyclical in some families, and think that intervention is key in stopping that cycle. Luckily, I have a very bright daughter
When my daughter began experiencing depression, I didn't recognize it as such, because my depression manifests itself very differently from hers. I only knew my kind of depression, not hers, and when I tried to help, she strongly rejected it, and then I felt hurt and rejected..feeding my depression more. I wasn't the best person to help her.
I do know there are lots of outreach programs for younger people who suffer from depression. What they do, I don't know. And how to get her there, again I don't know. Maybe ask her to go with you, then let her learn about it, and find what works for her. My daughter found help on her own - gave it a name - and she's been doing much better for the last several years. She found meds that work for her. She can model for her daughter, for which I am eternally grateful.
Just as domestic violence is cyclical, I think that depression is also cyclical in some families, and think that intervention is key in stopping that cycle. Luckily, I have a very bright daughter
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