Rain

Sometimes, the rain doesn’t stop

In the middle of last week, I was biking to my periodic therapy session. A most amazing feeling came over me, one that left me both surprised and grateful. ‘I think I’m going to make it’, was my thought.
There were fleeting glimmers of that in the past, the thought quickly submersed by the continuing depression. This time, it was not snuffed out almost immediately. Instead, I sensed it taking root, and I will tend that little shoot of hope as if my life depends on it.

Marcia and I were driving home from way out East a week or so ago. She said, ‘I feel sad sometimes, but I always seem to know it’ll pass soon enough. I don’t think I ‘get’ depression.’ I thought for a bit and said: ‘It’s like when it’s raining, and you know the rain will stop. Depression feels like the rain won’t stop, and the river will rise, and before too long, you’re treading water. And if you can’t keep on treading water, and when you’re too tired to keep going, then all is lost.’

I know, for some, the rain just doesn’t stop. I don’t understand why that’s the case for some, and not for others. I’m not confident (right now) that the rain will always stop for me, and eventually, I’ll be safe, dry and warm. Thus far, the rain has stopped, and I’ve been placed back on the dry ground. Right now, for me, the flood waters are waist deep and the sky is lightening.

It’s Mental Health Awareness month again. You, my dear reader, know at least one person that has depression. Me. And I’m certain you know others, too. Living with depression is hard. Healing from depression is hard work. And there’s a bunch of other mental health issues that come with depression. Learn about them – use the Internet – http://www.nami.org is a start. Depression is not the only mental health issue that people live through, but it is the one that I know best.

Do you want to help someone with depression? Do you want to help me? This is what helps me get one day closer to health: Don’t make me do anything. Instead, invite me to: Go for a walk, or a bike ride. Go to the art museum. Take me out for a meal (preferably where they don’t serve alcohol, because alcohol is a depressant, and it screws with my meds). Go someplace quiet and watch. Sit with me in silence. Play some music. Watch a sunrise, or a sunset.

Don’t be dismayed if I turn you down. Turn you down, over and over. Be persistent, but not nagging. Don’t take it personally. Chances are, I’m doing the best I can. And since for me, this is not my first trip, I really do know what’s best for me. (But try to make sure I’m not doing something harmful.)

Don’t forget that sometimes I need to be by myself. Sometimes, I pull away. Limit the number of friends I’m in contact with, or limit the time spent, and that’s okay for me. Really.

Ask me if I’m sleeping okay. Ask me what I’ve been eating. Ask me what I’ve been listening to. And just listen when I start to speak. Only interrupt when you need to clarify.

These are my things. They work for me. They might work with others, too.

Thanks for reading my blog. The practice of writing and illustrating is helpful for me.