On April 11, 2020 Beth posted a thoughtful and vulnerable post about depression. She really put herself out there talking about something that is sensitive for her. I was proud of her for writing it. It’s still one of the most read posts from my blog.
It was the 10th post ever put on my blog. It was so early in my blog that I didn’t even put a cover image for it.
I recently went back to read that post and decided, 4 years later, and after 5 years of marriage, that I would like to write my thoughts on her post and the topic of depression. This will be a difficult post to write because, even after these years, I’m still grappling with my understanding of depression – what it means, how it manifests, my role in it, along with all the other complexities that come with depression.
I’m going to pull quotes from Beth’s post and give my thoughts.
In her post, Beth said this:
“Sometimes in frustration, I just want to sum it up as “if you know, you know” and call it good. But that is not enough. Individuals, family members, institutions, others with depression need to know.”
I definitely need to know. Because I don’t understand it. And that’s hard for me.
I am married to Beth. I’ve seen depression. I can kind of understand it. And yet, I don’t. I know I don’t. I don’t get it. And that’s hard for me. It’s hard for me to try to understand something that I don’t know where to begin understanding.
With me… I may upset some people with depression here until you hear my explanation (or maybe even with my explanation) – depression is being sad and not wanting to get up or do anything. That’s my impression of it because I’ve experienced that. What I haven’t experienced is actually not being able to get out of bed. I don’t understand that. I don’t get it. That’s the reason I don’t understand depression. I just can’t relate to it. That doesn’t mean I don’t think it exists. It’s just something I have a hard time framing because it’s not in my personal experience. We have tons of examples of things we can’t understand because we haven’t seen or experienced them ourselves. I’ll dive into an example later on in this post. It’s hard to understand something you have zero personal frame of reference for.
I must be clear here. I’m not saying I’m not empathetic or sympathetic to the challenge of physically not being able to get out of bed. I desperately hope I am sympathetic to it. I hope that I’ve showed my wife at least some of the support and understanding she needs through her challenges.
What I’m saying is that I don’t understand it, I don’t get it.
I hope if you’re experiencing depression and you’re in a close relationship with someone (parent, sibling, friend, significant other, etc.) who doesn’t understand it, that you can have patience with them as we have patience with you. Not understanding doesn’t always mean not caring or not believing it’s real or that it exists. It can sometimes mean really just not getting it, as much as we want to. I think sometimes it’s as hard for a non-depressed person to understand depression as it is for a person with depression to describe what it’s like to a non-depressed person. This is exactly what Beth is talking about in the above quote.
Next quote I’d like to comment on from Beth’s post –
“For me, it is not a weight laying heavily on me. I don’t feel like the people in the commercials that have a dark rain cloud following over their head wherever they go.”
Beth is referring to what her depression is like to her. This struck me. It may seem silly, but as someone who hasn’t experienced “depression” (I don’t think) I kind of assumed it was all the same. Beth reminded me that just like anxiety and fear and all the other plethora of challenges we face in this life, no two people have the exact same experience. Depression for everyone must be unique to everyone. I’d venture to guess that one person with depression might have as much difficulty understanding another person’s version of depression as I have with understanding it at all.
I think it’s important to remember that this challenge comes in many shapes and forms and to have patience with everyone and their unique circumstance.
This is where I bring myself into it to try to understand and sympathize better.
I struggle with anxiety. It’s not something I talk about a whole lot. I think I treat it like Beth treats depression: with a little bit of embarrassment and avoidance. But now I’m an adult. I’m no longer a scared and confused kid. I’m still sometimes scared and confused, but no longer a kid. I now realize that lots of people struggle with anxiety. It’s not something to be ashamed of.
Beth and I have talked about depression and anxiety together. She talks about depression which, as I noted, I don’t understand. Then when I try to explain how anxiety manifests in me, I see the confusion descend upon her like the aforementioned cloud of depression. She can’t figure out what I’m talking about. She’ll say outright, “I don’t understand what you’re saying.” Do I take offense to this? Of course not! She hasn’t experienced it. I return to my point earlier – people experiencing depression: don’t blame or get upset with others that don’t understand what you’re going through. Your depression is unique to you. Don’t mistake lack of understanding for lack of caring or believing.
“Eventually, when you’re in the midst of a depressive episode, you begin to convince yourself that this is the new you. You will never be successful again. You will be a burden and failure for the rest of your life. I was very lucky to never feel like I wanted to end my life but, with feelings like that, it isn’t difficult for me to see how people get there.”
When I read that, it breaks my heart. When I read that it helps me to remember that this is a real and difficult challenge despite my lack of understanding. I can’t comprehend the idea of taking my own life. I think this is similar to how I don’t comprehend depression. I hope anyone reading this that, like me, struggles with understanding the dynamics and impact of depression on someone’s life, can read that quote and realize how serious this is. In whatever ways depression can feel “unreal” – suicide is not. Suicide is very, very real. We must have sympathy, love, compassion, patience, and as much understanding as we can possibly have to help those in our lives that have depression-like feelings. It can save a life.
“So why don’t you just get up? Go on a hike, play a game, talk to someone, you’ll feel better.”
This is my way of thinking.
“I ask, can you still support me and sympathize with me even if you can’t understand? While that seems like a fair compromise, I still think I can try to help others get a glimpse of my perspective. We can meet in the middle.”
I reiterate my point made earlier. We can try to understand. Those with depression, we only ask that you try to understand that often we without depression really are trying to understand and sympathize. It’s hard to understand something you can’t comprehend. It’s the catch-22 of sympathy. We sympathize, but ultimately, we can’t understand. If we understood, we’d know. All we can do is our best. Have patience with us as we have patience with you.
“Sometimes that means lowering expectations for a while. Sometimes that means just learning to listen instead of feeling like you must come up with the solution.”
This is the part I struggle with the most. I’m the standard guy who wants to fix things. Just listening doesn’t seem productive. I’ve tried over the course of my marriage to be better at this part. Listening. Beth will have to comment on whether or not I have gotten better at this. I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
I also struggle with lowering expectations. I’m not sure how to best say this without sounding insensitive but deep down inside I feel like lowering expectations for someone isn’t the answer. I coach basketball and deciding I don’t expect much from my players doesn’t seem like a great answer. In Beth’s whole post, that’s probably the line I most struggled with.
“While my depression has been well controlled for years now, it’s never truly gone. It can sneak in when I least expect it. I make sure to take my medication daily and be mindful of triggers and warning signs. I try to be vocal with my husband when I feel it creeping in.”
I’ve been married to Beth for over 5 years now. In that time, I’ve seen the warning signs. I can see when something is coming. I can see when Beth is starting to not be herself. Usually she is short with me, impatient with the girls and I, little things seem to put her on edge, and then there are hours of sleep.
I guess I have lowered my expectations in the moment. But my way of thinking is so much that aforementioned – “Get up and fight through it”… I can’t help but wonder if lowering expectations is the right thing. Is the best thing to do to let a person with depression lie in bed for hours and days at a time? I’m not sure it is. I’m not sure we’re supposed to lower expectations.
That said, that’s what I’ve done. In those moments I’ve tried to let Beth know I love her and I’m there for her and I give her the time to “come back.” Usually this is only for a day or two. A day or two where Beth doesn’t leave her room and I take care of the girls, the house, and the responsibilities. If it were more than a day or two, with everything we have going on, I’m not sure I could make it happen.
This is difficult. It’s made more difficult for my lack of understanding.
I can usually tell when Beth hasn’t taken her medication. It’s a bit disarming to immediately see the results of this. It’s a palpable and obvious difference. With lack of understanding it’s hard for me to understand how this can so drastically shift behavior so quickly. And yet… when I’m tired, how quickly does my demeanor, patience levels, and personality change?
I know so little about the body and how it functions. What do I know? I know nothing.
Ultimately, I have to rely on something bigger for understanding. I’ll close this post in much a similar way to how Beth ended her post 4 years ago. My understanding of God, this life, and His plan makes these things more understandable. We’re here to be tested. We’re here to go through tests that we don’t understand, to test our faith. We’re here to grow. Every challenge in our life is an opportunity to grow. I believe Beth’s depression is an opportunity for her to learn about herself and to become something so much more. I believe her depression is also a part of my mortal experience. It’s meant to teach me something important.
I hope I’m still learning something important. I hope I’m always patient and understanding and helpful. I hope Beth knows she can always trust me to be there to make up the difference. I also hope Beth knows she’s always good enough.
The hardest part, I think, about being married to someone with depression is seeing someone smart, and strong, and brave, and kind, and patient, and talented – think she is not those things. There have been many times that I’ve had to remind Beth that just because she doesn’t feel like those things in a particular moment – she is still those things. She will always be those things. They are more innate to her personality and being than depression is.
No Coincidences 