For Those Living With (Someone With) Depression.

PREFACE:  If you suffer from depression, please do not read any further.  Thank you.

If you google “support for caregivers of people with depression” you will get a list of over 44 million sites.  Most of them discuss how you can deal with burn out or feelings of being overwhelmed, many will provide support for you in terms of self-care.  A lot of them talk about ways to understand and support the person with depression.  But literally none of them will help you deal with the frustration and guilt you will feel.  I know because I’ve looked (if you do find anything please post the source in the comments).  In the preface I asked that anyone suffering FROM depression not read this because I am going to be really blunt and I want their caregivers to be able to do the same.  I think we need this space.

Life happens.  Shit happens – there I said it.  Day after day we show up and we deal and we hold back what we really want to say by taking a deep breath and holding our true emotions in.  Then we break an egg.

I don’t mean we cracked an egg on purpose, I mean at 6:30 am while still in our pajamas an hour before we have to leave for work, we broke an egg that ran all over everything, including the paper towels we will need to wipe up the egg, so it drips all over the floor on the way to the trash, leaks down the sides of the stuff that was below, and creates a ridiculous amount of wasted time that we really don’t have, all because we were making THEM breakfast AGAIN.  Why? Because if we don’t, they don’t eat and they have to eat to help with their mental state and their health and their abilities to cope and deal and take their medications.  So we reach the point of frustration where we boil over and shout to an empty room, “someone better get the (blank) out of bed and help me!” and “I make breakfast, lunch and dinner for everyone every day and I can’t even get breakfast made for me once a year!?!?”  Then you feel guilty because the adult with depression emerges from their bedroom like they are scared to be around you and the other adult without depression runs out apologizing because they were using the rest room.  Now instead of the boiled over frustration you have guilt because you were human and lost it for just a moment.  But you can’t ever lose it, so we now circle back to building frustration.

We don’t need to hear all the self-care caretaker crap right now either.  We need to be understood in a different way.  We need the person with depression to show up!  Why can’t you just function, even once in awhile so that I have someone to count on when I need a little help?  I’m not asking you to be as strong I have to be, or as able, or as accommodating, or as patient.  I’m just asking that you show up!

They CAN’T.  I KNOW…

I don’t suffer from depression, but I have been depressed before.  I know how it feels to be so down that you lack motivation to do the simplest things much less clean the house, pick up a stranded friend, take care of your (fill in the blank), but I pulled myself out of it, put my “big girl panties on” and made it through because there’s too much to do in life to waste time.  Because my personality type is such that I feel better when I accomplish a difficult task, overcome a stressful situation, and stick to my routine.  It’s hard for me not to say, “if you would just…show up for life…” It gets hard sometimes to understand what they are going through every day and why they just can’t deal like an adult.  It’s life, live it already and do what you have to do.  That’s where the guilt comes from.  You know they can’t do that, but you just sometimes REALLY need them to.

I feel like crap sometimes because I have short periods of resentment towards my friend, who I love and consider my sister.  Those feelings carry over to my husband as he unknowingly interrupts whatever self-talk I’m doing in my head to keep my mouth shut, so my frustration and resentment don’t show as he asks me something so simple or innocent.

You see these slogans built around helping people understand people with depression like “When you suffer from depression ‘I’m tired’ means a permanent state of exhaustion that sleep doesn’t fix.”  Yeah no kidding.  I’m exhausted from worrying about her all the time, treading lightly most of the time, wondering how hard I’m really supposed to push her to get out of bed and live life (like her counselor told me to do), constantly biting my tongue and feeling awful when I don’t, counseling myself in my head that the resentment I feel is unwarranted because she really can’t help how she is, hoping I don’t sound condescending when I tell her I’m proud of her or that she needs to do something differently.  Yes, living with depression is exhausting.

I got so pissed off a while back.  I don’t ask much from her, but taking care of all the cats is something she agreed to do to “pay her rent” since most of the 11 cats we now have to take care of are hers.  Her rooms are on the end of the house where we feed our own cats to keep our dogs out of their food and litter box and she was happy to do it.  I also, knowing how awful her apartment was left because of her cats…thought it was something she should do to create a new habit.  Her counselor told me helping her keep routines and develop better habits was really important.  Well…she was doing really well; I mean I was super proud of her and so I stopped checking.  You know, she’s an adult, at some point shouldn’t I be able to stop monitoring her chores like she’s a little kid?  NO.  Instead of bagging the cat litter daily and taking it to the outside trash she emptied it into an empty cat food bag and kept adding to it.  UNTIL THE 35 POUND BAG WAS COMPLETELY FULL OF WASTE.  I couldn’t believe it and I totally lost it.  Of course, she said she was sorry about an hour later as I was leaving for work still aggravated to which I said, “that’s not good enough this time, we’ll talk about it later.”  We didn’t, but she made a goal to go empty the litter box while she was standing by for something else she has to do every day.  I’m proud of her for that, but now I am back to square one having to check on her daily tasks, make sure her room isn’t unlivable, that she is taking her medication, you know, going through the motions of life to develop those routines that the counselor and phycologist say are so very important. 

I’m barely keeping up with my own stuff, now I have to constantly baby sit an adult.

I know what some people will say, but this is an honest, blunt insight into what someone who cares for someone with depression goes through.  I know, I know, I know – but I need a place to be open and honest about the things that go on in my head, so I can avoid boiling over like I did this morning because it’s not her fault.  Because I do love her.  Because I do want to take care of her.  Because I do want her to live a good life.  Because I want her around for a very long time.  Because I want to be a good model for her and definitely DON’T want her to ever feel like she is not a part of our family or that we don’t love her and cherish her. 

Sometimes its just so hard to deal with the downs.  Those days when she’s doing okay, she’s so much my best friend, she’s so fun and helpful, and just such a good and wonderful person.  She’s smart and patient and talented and wise and I really enjoy her companionship. 

I’m hoping sharing this will gather a group of other people “living with depression” who can feel safe venting and telling their “down time” stories so that we can be better mentally to care for the people we love who LIVE WITH DEPRESSION.

Please comment at will and let’s build our coping skills together.

As always thank you for the read and I look forward to great discussion.

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