Depression is different things in different people. For me, it's fatigue and a "fuck this" attitude. I stop caring what happens. I would say that I extricate myself from the events taking place in my life, but the word "extricate" implys surgical precision. It's not like that. It's more like simply dropping whatever is happening and walking away. I guess there's a sense that whatever I'm doing is suddenly irrelevant-- who cares anymore? I don't want to go jump off a bridge, but maybe I become more fatalistic and less resistant to the concept of death. It's simply a detachment from life. I'm no expert, but if you look in my medical chart, you'll find the words, "major depression, recurrent, in partial remission." Why am I writing this down? Don't I know the dangers of posting things over the internet, where potential insurers and/or potential employers can find them? Normally I care, but at the moment it feels irrelevant. Ahh, yes, a perfect example of what I'm writing about-- the "fuck this" attitude.
Yes, I'm feeling depressed. Christmas seems to have that effect on me. It doesn't help that I've more or less weaned myself off of medications I was taking. I posted a while ago about my desire to have a child and making changes in my life so that I'd be ready-- stopping medications that have been my lifeblood at various times over the past decade has been one of those changes. This is a common danger for people afflicted with mental health issues-- suddenly you feel well and have an aching desire to be well. Well people don't need medication-- they're high on life. They roll out of bed in the morning and it's all good.
I rolled out of bed this morning and it was all good, too. I didn't anticipate any problems- the gifts were purchased on time, wrapped and ready under the tree... I was off from work and actually got to sleep like a normal person Christmas eve night. I even got some unexpected, wonderful news from R-- his daughter had called on Christmas eve day to tell him that she was planning to go into a treatment program for her eating disorder. This is huge news. For the first time in her life, she was the one initiating treatment. It wasn't being forced on her, as it had been so many times before when it seemed her life hung in the balance. I praised God. I thought for sure that her recent interest in the Christian faith and her recent interactions with Christians must have brought about this truly radical change of heart.
Christmas morning R and I ate our special "Sunday" breakfast- eggs served up on either a bagel or a biscuit (a slice of jalapeno cheese on mine), and a shared grapefruit afterwards. We were thinking about opening gifts when she called. She called to say that she was going to treatment. "On Christmas day?" he asked. Yes, on Christmas Day. Did the pogram start on Christmas day, why was it important that she leave on Christmas? No, the program started for her upon arrival, there was nothing special about Christmas day. She was in the car with her mom. Were they still in San Pedro, or were they on their way to Arizona? They were on the road already, there would be no time for Christmas gifts. "Could we have a mailing address?" She would give us the address once she was settled. "Could we mail the gifts to her?" They wouldn't let her have a lot of things. She seemed rather short with him on the phone, distracted.
After the phone call, we briefly pondered why she had to do this on Christmas. He had also learned from her that she hadn't spent Christmas eve day with her stepfather's family in Perris as she was planning and does every year. He couldn't understand why she hadn't called him so that he could get her the gifts, since she was available all day. He was shaken by the call, but we managed to get through opening presents without too much sadness. Then it came in like a wave, growing stronger as the day wore on. So many puzzles and unanswered questions, and unfortunately we never seem to be privvy to the answers. She has a close (if typically love-hate) relationship with her mom, and R often finds himself on the outside looking in. Actually, that's too generous-- more like on the outside wondering, without being able to glimpse anything at all.
It's painful to watch. It seems like she's often dropping bombs on him-- just a few months ago she called him one morning out of the blue and announced she didn't want him in her life anymore. He was heartbroken-- it was excrutiating for both of us. Then a few days later, she called him and left a message asking for my phone number (though she has called me many times and can also reach me via email). A day later she called him again and left a message about something else. The following day, she called him and acted as if she'd never said anything. It's a tough relationship, and I know in some ways she feels let down by him. But he is a good father. Perfect? No. But he has always been there for her, and always will. He is not the kind of dad who would abandon his child. When he has angered her by expressing concern about her poor health, and she has resorted to the old teenage standby of "I hate you!"-- He has always accepted it with the attitude that he "...hopes it's a long and healthy hate". He would rather call her out on things that need to be addressed and face her anger than to keep quiet and lose her. What has he done wrong? I don't understand it.
I know that Christmas is hard for people with eating disorders (or so I've read), so in a way I can understand her eagerness to get on the road and avoid it altogether. I wish I understood why. I've read that the feasting aspect of holidays can be tough, but we weren't going to be feasting when she came over. Or maybe for her it's the disappointment in never getting sufficiently thoughtful gifts-- I don't know. But he's a dad-- dads often don't get it right. I know she's expressed disappointment that she doesn't have the same kind of relationship with him that she has with her mom,. but it isn't because he's not available-- he is. But a mindreader he is not. Is any father?? The sad reality is that in life you don't often get the kind of relationships with people that you want. The trick is to work with what you have and be content in it. I had a dad. Our relationship was not everthing that I wanted it to be, then he got sick and died... It's tough. I know. But she has her dad, and with time and effort the relationship that she has will blossom.
Another possibility for her quick disappearance is tough for me to ponder... Is it my fault? Does she feel that I stole her rightful place in his life? We've been together for five Christmases, but that doesn't necessarily mean that there's acceptance. Her parents divorced when she was a toddler, and her mom remarried when she was around five years old, so I have no reason to believe that I'm the part of the problem, but then again relationships are very complicated. Who knows.
She's a wonderful, funny, talented, kind-hearted, beautiful young woman, but she is a tortured soul. It's hard to watch her suffer and it's hard to watch her dad suffer. And of course, when he suffers, I suffer. As someone trying to recover from depression, I sometimes feel like I don't have the resiliency for it. I feel like I've been through so much already, losing people I love and suffering personal failures and setbacks. It's hard.
My experiences as a step-mom (in training) have given me pause about parenthood. I don't know if I can do it. It is truly a gut wrenching, thankless job. And of course, aside from what I've observed, I think about my stepdaughter-to-be and how a sibling would potentially harm her in her already fragile state. I remember when my own father had another child, how I prayed that the child would not be a girl and how I envied my new brother despite my love for him. A child is a tremendous gift, amazing, inspiring, beautiful.... and challenging, frustrating, heart-breaking.
I praise God that E has taken the incredibly tough step of entering treatment. I'm proud of her courage. At the same time, I pray that this turn of events has a positive conclusion. Our hopes have been crushed before. I'll bounce back (if it requires restarting medication to regain my resiliency, so be it) but R doesn't "bounce" well. She is his flesh and blood, his one and only child.
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