Now-Daughter R has not left her room for six months. She lays in the darkness all day every day, only leaving to go to the doctor for hormones or to sell things on eBay so she can get spells to turn her into a true woman. She is extremely depressed and complains of being suicidal (we’ve been to ER). I know it’s at least partially the hormones and believe she is undiagnosed bipolar, but she won’t listen and she is 19 so the doctors she goes to can’t talk to us, and in the meeanwhile. she tries to monopolize our time with drama withouth taking any of our advice. I know from experience she would starve to death if we didnt keep the fridge stocked – since she was a baby neither rewards nor punishments have helped, which was always a source of many parent-teacher meetings (she wouldn’t listen in class, and didn’t respond to various strategies on working with her such aS a reward or a punishment). I feel like she needs serious psychiatric help — even inpatient stuff – but doctors and hospitals and psychiatrists ahve not been able to help. Aaarghhh. Tomorrow I am going to start from scratch – I will start calling psychiatrists to see if anyone can help us make a plan for our daughter. I wish there was a clinic we could take her to, something like the Mayo Clinic but for severely depressed young adults.
**My personal opinion only, and I live and let live*** Today is Norwegian Day, or something like that, and here in Ballard we have some big Norwegian Day parade that has been in existence as far back as I remember (1970s). I am half Norwegian, so you’d think I’d like this day, but in all honesty I don’t. When I think of Italians, I think of shouting and hugging and good food and family, when I think of Irish I think pubs and stories and green, but when I think of Norway I remember all the depressed, cranky, sarcastic Norwegians in my childhood and the cranky Norwegians I encountered on my one day trip to Oslo. Maybe it was the neighborhood, or maybe it was just the Norwegians I knew, but the Norwegian Day Parade does not conjure fond memories for me — I am much more proud of my Scottish and Irish blood (albiet it is a very small percentage of my heritage).
Our oldest is going through some serious emtional (depression) issues for the past six months, and especially the past two months. Will go days without getting out of bed, and has resisted therapy (except hormonal therapy prescribed by her dubious “doctor”) but now is open to seeing someone. I will start on this. I’m not looking forward to it, since I battle chronic fatigue and it’s all I can do every day to seem “normal” (I wish I had a nickel for every time a close friend tells me they forget that I have a chronic disease).
It is really hard to have a child going through this, the not getting out of bed for days, which strikes too close to home for me (my mom’s family is prone to this). Although I myself have battled depression at times, no one would suspect it and I make an extreme effort to keep fighting through those days best I can and in my entire life had only had maybe 1 day where I could not get out of bed (after staying out with friends till 7 AM, I slept and watched sports all the next day 🙂 ). Even after my lung surgery, I spent my days walking the hospital (with my IV and oxygen tank in tow 🙂 ) rather than laying in bed.
I’m not upset with my child, I just want to be able to help her. I don’t have the time or energy for this, but will have to carve out time/energy. 😦
I continue to think on how much I disliked the movie Lion and the character in it. Why? Because I like people who perservere, and don’t like being around mopey people.
Take Casablanca. Here we have a heartbroken character who continues to suffer, but he suffers in silence while still running a bar. Elsa also is heartbroken, but tries her best to move forward. The prince, held in a prison camp before escaping and loses his home (and realizes his wife shacked up with another dude when she thought he was dead) but continues to press on. Resilience!
Or in Manchester by the Sea. A brother is given 5-10 years to live and is a single dad, but continues on. Lee suffers a horrible tragedy, but still presses on. Everyone presses on the best they can.
But in Lion, the main character wallows. He quits his job, and drops his girlfriend and spends his days wallowing in a dark room clicking at a laptop. Depressing! I hate that.
I also have found that I don’t like watching the character Jesse in Breaking Bad. I like that he is nonviolent and actually a pretty good kid, but there are many scenes where he just sits and wallows. Again, I hate that. I find myself fast forwarding through his scenes when I rewatch an episode.
So I am realizing I love grim movies where people press on. I think that comes from my childhood, where I had a mom whose family suffered from debilitating depression, which was difficult to see, but also a dad who refuses to ever look at the dark side, which was a powerful example for me. I don’t blame depressed people for being depressed or even suffering so much they can’t function – depression is an awful disease that can’t be helped. But that doesn’t mean I want to watch it on the big screen.
Silence in the work place is depressing to me. I think it goes back to growing up with some moodiness around me (friends, family, etc.) so I often associate silence in group settings as judgement and heaviness. But conversation is distracting and I don’t like being in a loud bullpen environment when I need to work (which basically every minute of the day I am at the office). By chance, I now have a fan in my office, and the white noise is wonderful – it prevents complete silence without the distraction of conversatoin. Who’da thunk??
My daughter’s friend was miserable at home. In recent years she’d run away from home a couple of times. She has spent some time with our family, and think she likes spending time with us, so a couple of months ago asked my daughter if she could stay with us. Wife M had to work it out with the parents (who are none too pleased) but L’s friend is unofficially living with us right now. I love that she feels comfortable at our house, and that wife M has had a conversation or two with her about curfew/friends etc and she has been really respectful of that. She is a great person, especially considering how unhappy she was, and I’m glad we have a place for her to stay. I wish her parents were a little less threatened about it, but I also can understand their pain. We’ve made it very clear that this is not official in any way, that she is just crashing at our house indefinitely – we don’t want anyone to feel that we are imposing our will or trying to take control and want to avoid legal battles (yikes!). We just want everyone to be happy.
PS I love that daughter L has embraced this too. She has had to share her room and has lost some privacy, since her friend lives in her room. But that is so important, to learn to share and that when friends are going through tough times we don’t just offer verbal support but share shelter with them. I wish there were more of that in America — I feel so many AMericans are all alone in our culture that prizes independence to a fault. Plus I think L likes it – the two of them get along very well and seem to have a healthy blend of privacy but companionship, like close siblings.
At 48 years of age, finally read Of Mice and Men on the recommendation of daughter L. In short, loved it. Like so many of the classics, it made me think, and did it in less than 100 pages.
The book follows giant but simple Lenny and small but cynical George, two drifters who have signed on to work on a farm. We learn that Lenny is a good person but has a long history of hurting things, and there is foreshadowing by the way he inadvertantly kills mice, how the two men are on the run after Lennie inappropriate touched and scared a woman, and how George tells Lennie where they’ll meet if anything bad happens.
We gradually meet the work men on the farm, all down-and-out and flawed men (and the new bride) in the early 20th century who are essentially alone and scared in the world, and cautious with each other. GEorge more or less befriends one of the men, and they plan to buy a farm together, with the three men living and working on the land. We also get a taste of foreshadowing when a beloved dog who was once a great sheep herder (just like Lennie is a great farm worker) but now too old to be of use is shot in the back of the head.
Later, Lennie — like he has done before — inadvertently kills the young bride of the boss’s pugnacious son and flees into the hills. The three men’s dream of owning a farm is now over, and George concludes that Lennie will always be a risk to people of the world. George finds him in their previously agreed upon hiding spot, and shoots Lennie in the back of the head, like the old dog earlier in the story.
It is a heartbreaking story that seems to capture friendship, pity, loneliness and the life of a poor working class American 100+ years ago. It is a story worth reading.