Where is my child?

This is in response to Travelin'Oma's writing assignment for today - a subject that hit close to home.

I do not suffer from depression. I have no idea what it feels like. But two of my four children do. So I know what it feels like to be a mom who feels helpless in a sometimes terrifyingly alone way, wondering how to help.

My kids have what I call “adult onset depression”. They did not exhibit depression until they were on their own, in college. Gone were the regular schedules they had at home, regular mealtimes, busy school days, sports and activities—all things that helped them keep going on an even keel.

One of them did college pretty well. It was afterward that it hit. She says she doesn’t remember most of her first year of marriage. After she had her first baby she actually improved (which is counter to most situations). We were so relieved. She was better. But still nowhere near where she should be. The improvement was so exciting that we lost track for awhile that it was still not enough. Four years later she’s doing pretty well. There have been a lot of ups and downs, but the ups are getting to be more and more the norm.

My son went to college and did amazingly well his first semester. Then it hit. No response to the phone, no answering emails. I sent his sister to check on him. He said, “Oh, my phone is dead. I forgot to charge it. I forgot to check my email. I’ve been sick, etc. etc.” It took us so long to figure out that something was really wrong. When you don’t expect it, you don’t look for it. He came home for the summer and said,”Uh, I don’t think my grades will be very good.” I asked how bad. “Really bad,” Failing all classes is really bad. My son is a genius. No exaggeration. So this was a big hint that something was wrong. Why are the parents always the last ones to figure out some of these things??

Five years later we are still figuring things out with him. He’s tried several medications, and seems to be doing pretty well right now. He’s seeing a counselor that is very, very helpful. It was a miracle how we found him. That’s a story for another day. My son has a good job, and does very well at it. He’s anxious to get back to school, and will probably start back a little at a time next semester.

Nothing makes my heart ache more than watching these children (grown-ups now) struggle in this fashion. What happened to my delightful, cheerful, kind and loving children? It is so disheartening to see them unable to get out of bed, or off the couch. To see their countenance so low and dark. To know that they themselves are discouraged beyond belief, and have no idea how to shake it off. Then again, I don’t know what is more heartening than to see improvement and life in their faces and voices again.

I don’t know when I’ve prayed harder for help and guidance than in these situations. Thank heaven for the comfort received from that. Thank heaven for modern medications and the inroads into understanding mental health.

Just writing about this makes me anxious and worried, and I feel like crying. I don’t know if I could write about it if they weren’t on the upside right now. Every day is a prayer that things will continue to be good, and to improve.