Parenting When You Have Depression
You have to give yourself a break!
I was first diagnosed with depression in my mid-twenties. My mother died, and during the holidays, I was left without the family traditions that my family had always observed. The first Thanksgiving after her death, I was alone with nowhere to go. An aunt very nicely asked me to celebrate with her and her son, and I’ve never forgotten her kindness.
Not wanting to feel alone again, I married the first person that I met. It was a mistake. The marriage lasted nine months. After my divorce, I moved in with my father, and he was horrified at my behavior because I would lie on the couch for hours and not move. One day he told me that he wanted me to get up and be on the go like I used to do before I was married.
Eventually, I made my way to a counselor who explained that I had suffered two significant losses in three years. The death of my mother and the divorce had triggered these symptoms. She immediately referred me to a psychiatrist. The diagnosis was official; I had depression.
I was offered medication, and it made all of the difference in the world. I couldn’t believe how uplifted that I felt. I realize now that I had been depressed most of my life, but I didn’t realize it. Once my mood improved, I could tell the difference.
