16. Do what you have to do to hold it together for the kid

Remember the days when crazy was interesting? There was a time I did my best to embellish my childhood, making it seem as nuts and dysfunctional as possible. Here's a recurring question in this blog: What was I thinking? And it's accompanying answer: Clearly I wasn't.

I rushed off to therapy when I was 20-years-old. Not that I didn't need it, but to be honest, I think my main motivation was because I thought it was "cool". It was cool to be traumatized, and if there was a label, I put it on myself. I'm not kidding. Looking back, I'm shuddering not with shame, but pity for my young self.

But I digress. This is now and what I believe now is that it's likely most people have a level of depression. At least, most people who can afford it. That is, Upper Middle Class in a First World country. Some real, some indulgent.  There's a lot to be depressed about, truthfully. We live in a world filled with poverty, sexual deviation, child abuse, drug abuse, lack of health care, obesity, starvation, disease, uneducated morons, violence, war, racism, classism, sexism, religious fanaticism, dwindling water supply, general malaise and stupefying denial. Not to mention personal problems: divorce, job loss, loneliness, too fat, too thin, not thriving in your career, unresolved childhood issues, illness, family dynamics and countless other day-to-day things that make up a life and cause stress.

So you're depressed. I am too, if not actively at the moment, have been and am sure to be again. When I was younger (pre-kid), I indulged myself. I took to bed, chain-smoked, slept all day, called in sick to work, rented sad movies and cried, bored my friends with hours of self-pity on the phone, and fed into the wounded narcissism. Hey, I was young and Upper Middle Class in a First World Country - what else was I to do? (Not to mention, I had some real issues going on.)

These days, because I'm a mom, I choose other ways to deal with my stuff when it comes up. Not getting out of bed and crying all day when there's someone who needs a meal or a ride to school is no longer an option.

There are a myriad of options out there and no reason to judge oneself with what they choose (unless it's, you know, the meth pipe or the daily bottle of Popov). Lately, I've been trying long walks and exercise and watching Vanguard journalism to check myself and remember that I'm UMC in a FWC. If I needed it, though, if things got really bad and I legitimately could not get out of bed - then I'd hit the shrink and get a prescription. I don't understand the prejudice against anti-depressants. I think shaming anyone for anything (unless it's Phillip Garrido or Josef Frizl or...) is such a small-minded way to live your life. But that's a rant in a different direction.

The point is, get some help. Not just for yourself but for your kid, because you know what? Some behavior is learned and unless there's a genetic pre-disposition for it, depression can be mimicked. 

Do you want for your kid what you have? I certainly don't.