Lately I've begun to think about what The Kid may have inherited from me. I'm not talking about that dimple he seems to have gotten from me or the gorgeous brown, wavy hair he has, which could have come from either one of us. I'm more concerned about illnesses. He's already has diabetes to worry about since I was, after all, diabetic and pregnant with him. But, I'm more concerned about his mental health. I've battled depression throughout my life and, after many therapy sessions, felt well enough to stop going. Then, post partum depression hit and I had to resort to medication because no amount of therapy would have helped with what I was going through. Recently, I've had a few setbacks that need to be addressed so I will have to make an appointment with my therapist soon. I'm a huge advocate for mental health because I know having everything doesn't mean happiness. Depression is awful and it's awful for those around you. It's perfectly described in those commercials for anti-depressants. It really does hurt all over. Struggling to come up with a reason to get out of bed is hard if you, a non-depressive person, can understand. Even if the only reason you have to get out of bed is to quiet a hungry cat then there is your reason. There should be no shame in needing therapy and/or anti-depressants. And all of this makes me think about Noah and what he may have inherited from me in this particular area. I plan on being honest and open about my history in hopes that should he ever need help, that he can talk to me. Isn't that every parent's wish? To have their child feel comfortable enough to talk to them about any problems or issues they have? I hope and pray that my son can and will.
4 comments:
Don't worry. If he can't talk to you he can always talk to me. Plus you know I will always let y'all know what he tells me, especially if it is really important. (But you might want to delete this comment when he learns to read so that he doesn't find out.)
You got it. Thanks.
I found your blog through an intriguing comment you left on Kathleen Shannon's blog. I love your honesty in this post and I could have written it myself, having gone through the same thing recently (except I didn't have the guts to blog about it).
I look at my 8 yr old son and how sensitive/empathetic/emotional he is and it scares me because I know the other side of that coin, too and the turmoil it contains.
I hope hope hope my children don't inherit the depression that haunts/taunts me, but I now see that I need to be brave enough to share that part of me with them when the time comes.
Thank you.
Thank you for reading and thank you for commenting. Depression is awful to have and awful to be around but help is just a word away. It's nerve-wracking thinking about having The Talk with them but it's as much a must as The Sex Talk. You will be okay. I know you will.
Sending hugs.
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