Updated: Aug. 3, 2016
Originally Published: Aug. 16, 2015
Depression has not always painted me in the best light as a friend, sister, daughter, or wife. At times, it has made me quite a poor version of myself. I often isolate from those I care about most, retreating to a secluded part of my home—most frequently the bathroom (why is it always the bathroom?). There, I find myself curled up on the cold tile floor, enveloped in darkness, hiding under an unwashed towel.
As I withdraw from everything and everyone, the harm is often already done: harsh words have been exchanged, and tears have fallen. Yet, there is one area where I find a silver lining to my struggle with depression: my role as a parent.
There’s no denying that parenting during a depressive episode is a formidable challenge. It can feel nearly impossible. I often force smiles, and maintaining a calm demeanor seems absurd. I find myself teetering on the edge of anger when my child throws a tantrum or refuses to cooperate during diaper changes. Recently, my daughter has taken to tossing her food and slapping my hand when I reprimand her behavior. It takes every ounce of willpower to channel that frustration into tears rather than outbursts.
Even during quieter moments—when we are enjoying simple pleasures like walking to the park or snuggling on the couch—my mind races with erratic thoughts. The stillness amplifies my sense of numbness, and I grapple with the reality that while my daughter is physically close to me, emotionally, I often feel worlds apart.
However, these depressive episodes are not my everyday reality. On a typical day, I am loving and engaged. I relish the time spent at the playground, blowing bubbles, and coloring outside the lines (like color purple dinosaurs and green skies just because I can). On those days, I embody the selfless, funny, and slightly clumsy mother I aspire to be.
So, how does my struggle with depression contribute to my growth as a mother? My experiences, including my moments of anger and emotional upheaval, teach my daughter valuable lessons about accountability and forgiveness. She learns that it’s acceptable to ask for help and that crying is a natural expression of emotion.
My depression exposes her to realities that I would never wish upon anyone. Instead of burying myself in guilt—an emotion that only exacerbates my depression—I’m learning to embrace vulnerability. I acknowledge my feelings and explain to her that mommy isn’t always okay. It’s not her fault; sometimes, my illness simply overwhelms me.
I am learning to open up rather than shut down. I aim to let her—and others—into my world by leaving the bathroom door ajar and turning on the lights. I understand that apologizing for my actions does not equate to apologizing for my mental health condition.
Living with depression is not what I envisioned, yet I am navigating through it. Despite its weight, I recognize that my struggle is shaping me into a better mother and, more importantly, helping my daughter grow into a compassionate individual.
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In summary, my journey through depression, while challenging, has provided me with unique opportunities for growth as a mother. It has enabled me to teach my daughter essential life lessons about empathy, vulnerability, and resilience.