Every once in awhile my husband have a very deep conversation. I'm talking mental scars and unsung anguish deep. It always happens very naturally, and he's always patient as I try to piece an indescribable moment into a befuddled jumble of nouns and verbs. Sometimes it takes me awhile to draw a comparison and make it relatable.
But he always waits.
He wants so desperately to understand. He wants to empathize. He wants to be proactive to counter attack my inner demons.
And so he waits for words.
The hardest part for me in our relationship is communication and learning how to relay how I feel or think. Sometimes I don't have a clue why I feel how I do. But most times, I know the reason but it's easier to deny than face it.
Our latest talk involved something near and dear to probably most of us: Depression. What a fun topic, to say the least.
'What is the difference' He asked, 'between feeling depressed at a specific moment and having depression?'
'Well,' I leaned back and tried to carefully word my opinion, 'I think every person in their life feels depressed at some point. Feeling depressed is just a part of life. But it's different when you can shake it off, so to speak, and move on. See I can't do that. For me, it's a constant thing. And though I would never dismiss anyone's depression, I would say a constant depression causes more mental suffering than say a moment or time of being depressed. I hope that makes sense.' And I laugh and say I don't really know.
But, I kind of do.
I pause and say, 'I wish I knew what that was like.'
'What's that?' Link asks as he shifts in his chair.
I clasp my hands and look thoughtfully at the studs that run through the barn.
'What is it like to brush it off? What is it like to just wake up and not feel tired and feel ready for the day? What is it like to be happy and not have that knowledge that it's only very temporary and it will be taken away from me?'
'Well I have felt that way, waiting for the shoe to drop. Expecting an inevitable downfall.'
'Yes, but in that moment when you're laughing and you feel the euphoria of happiness, do you consciously think "this will be over soon and it will be taken from me"?'
'No, I suppose that's a bit different.' I can see him trying hard to empathize, trying to reach out and brush that nasty darkness away.
'You know, if your life had been different, you wouldn't even be conscious to the idea of depression. You wouldn't recognize how good you have it. I had good parents, so I thought that was normal and I took it for granted. You wouldn't even realive how good you have it.'
'But what is it like to be so blissfully ignorant? I wonder what it is like.' I close my eyes and my shoulders slump. 'I don't think people realize all the ways depression interferes with your day to day life. It affects everything about you - your personality, the way you think, what you believe, how you sleep, how you eat, heck even how your body digests food and the way you walk. Depression changes everything about you. When I walk, I have to remind myself "head up, shoulders out, walk straight and proud" because if I don't, I slump and try to hide as I stare at the ground and hope no one will notice me.'
Link listens thoughtfully, his fingers pressed together, touching his upper lip.
'I think that's the hardest part,' I continue, 'it changes you so much that it's hard sometimes to figure out where the depression ends and you begin.'
'You seem to have it figured out though,' Link replies, ' I mean, no one would look at you and know.'
'But it is such a struggle. It isn't something I can just pick up and put down. It's a constant mind game of convincing myself to take care of myself and to do things and that I am worth it in the end. You combine that with paranoia and crippling social anxiety and you've got it made!' I chuckle at the last bit.
'I'm not as paranoid as I used to be,' I say, 'I've gotten alot better.'
Link laughs in disbelief. 'Paranoia? That's not you. You aren't afraid of anyone.'
'When I first came here, I expected every customer to kill me. I had an escape plan laid out in my head everytime someone pulled in. It was worse when I was in the bakery and your mom was in the store. These fantasies in my head involved saving everyone, but in certain situations, I couldn't see how I could do that.'
Link just looks sad. 'Nothing ever happened.'
'No,' I reply, 'but the mental anguish was real and you've no idea how much that anguish hurt.'
I tear up briefly but stuff those tears back in where they belong.
Link leans back in his chair and I can see him trying to compose a question.
'You say you have good days and bad days and you seem to have more good than bad so doesn't that mean you're getting better?'
'I once read something that said when you have depression, you have neither good or bad, it just is. But me personally, I have good, meh, and bad. I count my good days and am thankful for every single one. Depression is a mental illness. It's a disease. It can destroy you. So I try my best to be conscious of my choices and how they feed my disease.'
I pause and gather my thoughts. ' I avoid people who bring me down or make me angry because that is not good for my mental health. I choose food that is proven to help depression like citrus and fruit. I leave the windows open all day and night because fresh air makes me feel good and clean. I avoid any unpleasant situation that can be easily avoided. I keep to my little group of safe people. I've built a world and place where I feel safe, where I can heal. Do I think one day I'll wake up and depression will be a faded memory? No. There are certain demons I'll always face and depression is one. But I can be conscious of it and counteract it.
I own my depression and it will never own me.."
'I'm sad and angry that you feel this way and there's nothing to stop it. It's wrong and not fair.' Link's fists clench and unclench. 'But I'm glad you talk to me about it and maybe I can't understand everything but at least you will never face this alone.'
'I feel that way sometimes. I feel trapped on the opposite side of a glass wall. It's really lonely.'
Link takes my hand and says, 'Never will you ever be alone. You're very strong.'
'I don't feel strong.' I reply.
He simply nods his head because he knows there's no reasoning to be had there.
It's in these moments, I break a crack into that glass wall and a part of me that is so inaccessible becomes a little more human like and a little bit less like a scary monster.
And I'll keep going and I'll keep trying because these moments with Link remind me that there's much more to be had.
"Getting better from depression demands a lifelong commitment. I've made that commitment for my life's sake and for the sake of those who love me." — Susan Polis Schutz
May the frets be with you.
