Tuesday, 24 February 2009


It is very strange. Before my daughter died I had had four of five bad bouts of depression. And even when I wasn't actually suffering from depression I often lived in a fairly depressed state. Now I'm not like that any more. I go around cracking jokes about this. 'I used to suffer from depression but five dead babies cured me entirely.' But the point is that this is only partly a joke. Something has changed. I'm often grieving, numb, miserble, in pain, angry - but none of those things are depression. I just feel now that depression is an indulgence I can't afford. But even as I type that I hate myself for saying it. I know perfectly well that depression isn't an 'indulgence' and I know that it isn't something which some people can 'afford.' And yet it is true that I just can't allow myself to be depressed any more. Life is already too difficult without being depressed as well. I used to find all sorts of little things too much to bear. But now it seems that, because I know what a real disaster is, I can simply rise above the minor disasters. But even that doesn't adequately explain the change. I can't work it out. It is very strange.


k@lakly said...

It's odd isn't it? I was the same way 'before' often living thru bouts of depression but then when something really deserving of it happened, losing Caleb, I couldn't go there. I think I was too afraid to let myself. I don't know if I would have made it back.
Thinking of you.

Tash said...

After the initial bout of real depression wore off (and I had never suffered through a bout before, it became clear) I found the same to be true. I think depression -- for me at any rate -- is a lot of little shit building up that I can't seem to control or find support for or explain and eventually lose interest in dealing with. Big stuff I sort of shrug and plow my way through, all the while muttering, "at least no one is dying." My brain it seems is now better equipped to surround larger, more profound issues.

The little stuff still pisses the hell out of me, though.