Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I admitted I was depressed. My mom always said, “ Never say you are depressed.” Her philosophy being, if you don’t say it, you can’t be it.
This #38 started out as my take on “Things you think will make you happy, but probably won’t”. Recent poor decisions I’ve made were weighing on me, but when I tried to write about them yesterday I ended up with the literary version of mixing all your paint colors together – a gray-brown ick. By the end of my day I was not just anxious about my questionable decision-making, but also my writing.
Finally at 4 pm I gave up, and my husband and I retreated to the terrace for our daily cocktail and cards. After a prolonged period of mental hand-wringing I hesitantly said to my husband, “Today was very depressing for me. I tried so hard to express my feelings in my blog post, but the words just wouldn’t come, and nothing I tried to say came out right”.
My stoic husband, who for 40 years of his adult life had a photographic memory and could carry a conversation on any topic, but who for the last 10 years, due to numerous strokes, has struggled to find words and can barely speak, looked me in the eyes and said, “That’s what every day is like for me”.
At that moment, I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more ashamed and embarrassed, and I knew immediately what I needed to say to my children and grandchildren, and even more so to myself.
Be thankful for what you have.
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Very touching, Sue.
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