How much is too much to let a friend into my world of depression? When a friend says she wants me to explain it to her, does that person really know what she is asking?
Don't get me wrong... talking about it and explaining it is a good and healthy thing for me to do... it makes me feel less insane to say out loud the thoughts rolling around in my head... and I would love to have another person in my corner with this depression thing. But again I ask... does she realize what she is asking? Does she really want to hear about my unexplainable sadness... sadness that persists in me depsite how incredibly blessed I know I am?
I want to ask her... Do you really wanna know the reality of my life today and for the last six out of seven days? Sadness... sadness and guilt when I think of my husband and my daughter... because they are wonderful... They need and deserve better from me. Same thing for my sister... Not a day goes by that I don't think about her... She deserves better from me.
Crying... actual crying and even more holding back of tears at various locations.
Then there is hopelessness... I don't mean eternal hopelessness... I know where my ultimate destination is... I know that "no power of hell nor scheme of man could ever pluck me from His hand." But I'm not gonna lie... I am frightened that this depression will be a part of the rest of my life on earth. And even as I'm typing this, I know there are people around the world who must live with much worse for the rest of their earthly lives... People with Parkinson's... people who are in prison for their religious or politcal beliefs, people who live in abject poverty... The list of people who have it worse than me while on this earth is endless. Thus... even more guilt for me.
As a person who deals with non-circumstancial depression, how do I answer my friend's question "Is there anything I can do?" I've had more than one friend ask me that... and I'm pretty sure I would ask the exact same question if I were in their shoes. I wish I had a great answer to it. I don't know this for sure... but I don't think most people like the answer I usually give: "Just let me talk if I need to talk... and realize that when I talk and ask rhetorical questions I'm not asking you or expecting you to answer them or give me advice. I'm not asking you to fix me or rescue me or anything like that." But that's so intangible for most people... it doesn't feel to them like they're doing anything to help... So in response some say "but what else can I do."
At that point I usually think to myself but don't say out loud "Well, the next time I'm sitting on my office floor sobbing, would you come sit with me?" And the reality is that when I'm sitting on the floor in my office sobbing, it's usually the absolute most inconvenient time for anyone to actually come sit with me... plus the fact that it's a pretty socially awkward thing to ask someone to do. But the other reality is that it would help... How do I know it would help? Once, when I was pregnant with my daughter, I was driving around... sobbing in my car... feeling beyond desperate... I called a friend and asked her if I could come over. I got to her house still crying, walked in, didn't really even say anything, and cried in her arms for half an hour... or more maybe. We did talk some after that... but she didn't say anything really during my pathetic sobbling spell... and that was OK... she didn't need to say anything. Sometimes just not having to cry alone is a comfort. And I've cried in the arms of my husband dozens of times... and he's learned it's OK... even better sometimes... not to say anything during those moments.
Here is something else that helps... and I feel ridiculous admitting this for some reason... I think because it just seems shallow. This last week was the worst one yet depressionwise for me this winter. I let a handful of people know how I was feeling... One friend texted me later and reminded me that she loved me and liked me. A simple sentence... but that let me know it was OK that I had told her I was having a bad week... that let me know I hadn't completely annoyed her like I thought I might have by saying that I had a horrible day... again.
Another thing that would help... and I think this next thing I've only ever said to my husband... I don't want friends to shelter me from things going on in their own lives. If things are awesome for them, great! I can almost always celebrate with them. But if things are not awesome, they won't somehow bring me down further by telling me what's going on... I am a good friend and a good listener... And just because I'm having a rough time doesn't mean that I don't care about what's going on with the lives of my friends.
I don't claim to be a spokeswoman for all Christian women who deal with chronic clinical depression... but I know I can't be the only one out there who feels as I do...
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Gina, if you only knew the number of times I've thought about you in regards to depression over the last 2 1/2 years. I hate it. I like to think of it as something that has form, so I can kick its ass. But, it's not like that at all, it's far more sneaky. It makes you question if you're delightful and beautiful and desirable and worth it. You are all of those things, but I am powerless to silence the thought-monger that is depression. It taunts you to try to fight when you're most weak, when you doubt the most.
ReplyDeleteYet, you find this amazing courage to do the most daring of things, to ask someone to be with you when you feel at your worst. Oh, that I would know that courage, to let someone love me when I feel most unlovable.
I look forward to the day when I might stand next to you and rejoice that it is no more, not plaguing you or any other person I love. But, until then I will fight for people who know sadness in a way that I do not. I will walk with them and do my very best to offer whatever relief I can.
As I study depression treatment, I study for you, Gina, I really do, because I hate that I can't make it go away.
I love you, friend.