Perspective

I'm coming out of probably the most enlightening experience I've had in my adult life: Postpartum Depression.
I feel like I've always had an open mind to mental illness. I've not been the sort to stereotype or judge or shy away from a person with a mental illness. I'd never understood it, though. Not with all the books I'd read, or the courses I'd taken in college. Not with all the people I'd had conversations with. Never understood it, not until about 2 weeks ago, and then, I UNDERSTOOD. I identified with all the stuff that I had just learned about before.
Depression has probably been settling over me for some time. Maybe since Julia was born, maybe even since my miscarriage, but it wasn't until about 2 weeks ago that I started to feel like something was definitely wrong with my mind.
I finally know what it means to be depressed. Not sad, not bummed, not even grieving...depressed. And with that understanding, my whole world turned upside down, shook for a bit, and then turned right side up again, never to be the same.
It's a good change.
Depression runs in my family. There's a reasonable chance that one of my children will face it some day. And then, I'll know. I'll really know what it's like, and hopefully, I'll be able wrap my arms around them, and hold them until they feel better. Even if they're grown up. Even if they live a hundred miles away. Because I'll understand what they're going through, and I won't say silly things like, "Haven't you been sad long enough?"  or "What are you even sad about anyway-you have so many blessings!"
My friends and family, especially my rockin' husband, Jason, have been so supportive. I'm so grateful the only person I had telling my to buck up and get over this was me. I spent about 3 days feeling really depressed and resenting myself for it. Denying it. Telling myself I wasn't the type to be depressed. Telling myself I should be happier, more faithful, more productive, more...something. Then I finally talked about it with Jason. I finally called it what it was, and you know, my depression lifted. Not right away, but within 24 hours I was feeling downright hopeful. I'd labeled my problem. I'd found something to research, something definite to tackle. And tackle it I did, with all my heart. I Googled, I checked out support groups, I borrowed books from the library, I talked to family, friends, neighbors, a therapist. I found out most everyone in my life has experienced or knows someone who has experienced depression. Some people call it the common cold of mental illness. Common, yes, but not to be brushed off. Depression can be deadly, after all.
Thankfully, my depression never took me down that path of thinking, but I'm sure it could have if I hadn't identified what was going on and then been totally surrounded with support.
After surfacing from my original depression episode, I sunk back into depression for one utterly miserable day. I really, truly believed I might not make it through the day. Like the world would just swallow me up and I'd cease to exist or something. When you're depressed, reasonable thoughts seem ridiculous, and ridiculous thoughts seem reasonable.
I'm learning all about managing depression now. I'm feeling really great. Better than I even felt before depression hit. Like the sky's a bit bluer, the air's a bit fresher, my baby's a bit sweeter. The whole world seems to be saying, "Glad you made it through, welcome back to beauty." And I'm glad to be back. I hope I'm back for good, but even if I have a rough day or more ahead of me, I'll know what's up. I'll know I'm really not losing my mind. I'll know things will get better, and I will be better for having experienced this.
I hope if you or anyone you love is experiencing a mental illness, depression or otherwise, you will have the courage to call it what it is, to seek help where ever you can find it, and to keep talking about it until it gets better, because it will, if you work at it.
I'm glad my fight has been a relatively short and sweet fight. I salute those of you out there who have been fighting for years and continue to fight. My heart is with you. Now, I finally get it- at least I get it a little bit more than I did before-and for that perspective, I'm grateful.