Here's a thought...

This is advice, not just for dealing with people with depression, but for interacting with everyone (from Beyond Blue Blog):

Listen.
"When people are talking," writes Rachel Naomi Remen, "there's no need to do anything but receive them. Just take them in. Listen to what they're saying. Care about it. Most times caring about it is even more important than understanding it."  Suggestions [come] off as condescending, even though...they were meant to be helpful. Advice [can be] annoying. Many times [they] just [need] to be heard, to be validated. Don't hesitate to say nothing. Because silence often speaks the most loving message.

From 'Beyond Blue' Blog....What to say to a depressed person

I'm thinking that a lot of my recovery was hindered by these very comments. After years of individual therapy, a stint in group therapy, and several combinations and dosages of different anti-depressants, it's amazing to me that I have heard every single one of these comments (sometimes the same message, but paraphrased)...and mostly from the people who love and care about me most.

1. Snap out of it!
Your loved one hasn't left the house in what seems like days. Should you tell him to pull himself up by his bootstraps and just snap out of it?
Don't say it.
You may be tempted to tell someone who's depressed to stop moping around and just shake it off. But depression is not something patients can turn on and off, and they're not able to respond to such pleas. Instead, tell your loved one that you're available to help them in any way you can.
2. What do you have to be depressed about?
In a world full of wars, hunger, poverty, abuse, and other ills, you may feel impatient when someone you love feels depressed. So do you remind him how lucky he is?
Don't say it.
You can't argue someone out of feeling depressed, but you can help by acknowledging that you're aware of his pain. Try saying something like "I'm sorry that you're feeling so bad."

3. Why don't you go for a nice walk?
Exercise is a known way to lift your mood. Is it a good idea to suggest that your loved one with depression go out and enjoy some fresh air and activity?
Say it -- but with a caveat.
By definition, depression keeps you from wanting to engage in everyday activities. But you can show your support by offering to take a walk, go to a movie, or do some other activity with your loved one. How about: "I know you don't feel like going out, but let's go together."

4. It's all in your head.
Some people believe that depression is an imaginary disease and that it's possible to think yourself into feeling depressed and down. Should you tell your loved one that depression is just a state of mind -- and if she really wanted to, she could lift her mood with positive thoughts?
Don't say it.
Suggesting that depression is imagined is neither constructive nor accurate. Although depression can't be "seen" from the outside, it is a real medical condition and can't be thought or wished away. Try saying instead: "I know that you have a real illness that's causing you to feel this way."

5. Seeing a therapist is probably a good idea.
You think your loved one could benefit from talking to a mental health professional. Should you say so?
Say it.
Reinforcing the benefits of treatment is important. Encourage the idea of getting professional help if that step hasn't yet been taken. This is especially important if your loved one has withdrawn so much that she is not saying anything. Try telling her, "You will get better with the right help." Suggest alternatives if you don't see any improvement from the initial treatment in about six to eight weeks.

I'm okay, you're okay...

I'm starting to think that maybe I'll end up in a very unpleasant nursing home. Alex made the bad decision to sit on the arm of the couch and fell backwards, landing on the handle of his newly-remodeled light saber (ouch). He cried out in pain and I went to investigate, thinking that his injuries always sound worse than they actually are. Turns out I wasn't wrong in this case. I said, "Wow, that was a dumb thing to do," and Alex immediately insisted that it wasn't very nice of me to 1) use the word, "dumb," and 2) use it in relation to him. So I apologized and he gave me his how-dare-you-not-think-everything-I-do-is-wonderful look. This incident, coupled with yesterday's rant about how he doesn't need me anymore because he can do everything himself and how much I bother him by standing nearby to watch him do things (like put on his seat belt properly) AND how I need to be more patient (something I'm constantly telling him)...not to even mention that this morning he told me that he already knows everything, so why do I keep telling him?...gives me the impression that there's a poorly-run old folks' home in my future.

On a different note, I still feel tired and angry/irritated, but I've decided that I'm okay and not sinking into the pits of depression again. Despite the fact that I am the negative self-talk queen, I have managed to think of some concrete examples of how okay I am:
1- I actually said something about not feeling well instead of going into full-fledged denial.
2- I'm still making it to work on time, if not slightly early (a HUGE deal for me!).
3- I know that I won't feel this way forever.
4- I make positive comments to George to note his improvements- so that shows I'm feeling hopeful.

There is hope. I'm okay.

Fighting the Good Fight

I haven't had a decent night's sleep since Thursday and adrenaline has been flowing through my body to keep me awake, alert, and able to take care of others. Now I'm tired. And worried about how tired I feel because I'm battling my depression....again.

I first noticed something was up when on Friday afternoon I started to cry when I couldn't find my backpack for camping. On the drive up to Williams, all I could think about was how much work I need to do since it's the beginning of the school year and how disappointed people will be because I will inevitably fail to meet deadlines or something like that. Today I went to Target for a heating pad for George and ended up spending too much time and money there (actually, that's fairly normal). The bad thing is that all the shopping made me feel worse because now I have to put everything away.

George's being unable to walk, sit, stand, breathe, blink, etc. without pain is painful for me to watch. My husband is a stoic sort of fellow- the kind who fits stereotypical descriptions of strong, silent men who don't share, much less display, emotions freely. On Saturday night and most of yesterday, George cried everytime he had to move. It was better today, but something has gone wrong in the world if my husband has to depend on me as though he was my child. Not that I begrudge him anything that he needs. He is actually very thoughtful and polite about his requests, and I am happy to be helpful. It's just hard to be unable to do anything to stop his pain. It's heart-wrenching to comfort my son, who is "worried that Daddy will be hurt forever," when I myself am worried and upset.

I try to calm myself down by remembering that it would be upsetting to anyone to see someone with tears streaming down their face because of pain. I try to reason with myself about feeling overwhelmed and I can identify the negative thoughts in my head and know that my exhaustion is part of the reason they're there.

But I'm fighting back anger that despite taking my medicine religiously, and despite all my awareness of signs and triggers (of which George's state is a major one), I still have to feel this way. I'm angry (all over again) that I am susceptible to every sort of stress overload there is and that I can't handle as much as I think I should be able to manage. I'm angry that I feel burning tears waiting to slide down my cheeks at random moments. I'm hoping that my anger will subside soon. I'm fighting it, but I'm also very tired.