Apparently I'm Moderately Depressive

At my last scheduled appointment with the psychologist a couple of weeks ago, she got me to take a DASS survey. I did it and, after collating my scores, she said, "That's funny. Your anxiety levels are much lower than when you were first assessed in February but you're moderately depressive now. Get another referral from your GP so we can keep working."

I went to my GP and told her what my psychologist had said so she got me to take a K10 test. I did it and, after collating my scores, she said, "That's funny. Your anxiety levels are much lower than when you were first assessed in February but you're moderately depressive now. I'll write that referral and I want to increase your dose of Lexapro. It may make you feel emotionally numb; if so, decrease the dose again."

"That's funny," I thought to myself, "I'm already emotionally numb and it has nothing to do with the Lexapro."

Right now I feel like I'm marking time as I make the long slow walk to the grave. I look forward to nothing. It's not so dire that nothing gives me pleasure. Once I begin doing something I'm fine; I simply lack all interest and/or enthusiasm for anything. I simply can't be bothered. My care factor is zero. I pay lip service to everything at the moment and go through the motions.

I'm well aware that these are classic signs of depression. I have no desire to hurt or kill myself or die; I have no desire for anything really. I know people who struggle greatly with depression and I feel like it would be an insult to them to label myself as depressed. I'm not depressed and I'm not in denial about it.

The last year has been very hard emotionally. When I really think about it, however, the last ten years have been an emotional roller-coaster. High highs and low lows and not much in-between. Each time it looked as if there might be a period of respite, it didn't come or was short-lived. It feels as if it's been one thing after another after another, and that it's not over and maybe never will be.

Sometimes, if you're running too many things at the same time on the electricity grid, it burns out or shuts down. I believe that is what I'm experiencing. My metaphoric circuits have been overloaded for so long that they've burnt out. I'm having what I'd call "Emotional Burnout". I'm not doing it purposely but I've simply shut down, gone numb.

According to the Book of Ecclesiastes, there is a time for all things, a season for everything. I wonder if it's an accident that, while my world is buried in the cold of winter, I've gone fallow for awhile. I can live with this. I use Acceptance and Commitment Therapy for my anxiety but the "acceptance" part is helpful with the way I feel now. I accept that I'm numb. I accept that I need to be numb for awhile to heal from all that's happened over the past ten years.

In the meantime, however, I'll take my meds and see my psychologist, just in case.

Here is the late, great Pete Seeger singing about a time for everything.

From "Helicopter Parent" to "Free Range Kids"

Two of my children were discussing depression in the car the other day. One of them asked me if young people were as depressed when I was young as they are now. I said I didn't know because when I was young it was a stigma to have any kind of mental disorder so, if as many people were depressed, they did a great job at hiding it.

The other day I read somewhere on-line that more young people do suffer from anxiety and depression, and perform acts of self-harm now than they did thirty five years ago. Again, I don't know if there is a real increase or a seeming increase due to the fact that more people are seeking help. One of the reasons suggested for the increase is the fact that modern parents over-protect their children.

I can't speak for all parents; only for myself. Yes, I was an over-protective "helicopter parent". I wrapped my "babies" up in cotton wool in order to protect them from all the evils of the world, from predators to accidents. This style of parenting came crashing down around me, however, when it became obvious that it felt like a noose to one of my children and wasn't helping that child to develop independence. That was when I reluctantly let my child become a "free range kid."

For years, I tried to be the perfect mum. I worked hard on helping my children to develop resilience. At least I thought I was. I was paying lip service to it and telling my children what great problem solvers they were, all the while trying to solve all their problems for them. Of course, because I was doing so, they weren't becoming resilient. Every time there was a slight issue, Mum stepped it to try to fix things. Actions speak louder than words and the message my "hovering" was sending them was that they were incapable of solving their own problems or dealing with the world effectively.

These days, as hard as it is, I try to sit back and observe. When there is a problem, I ask, "What are you going to do?" I'm happy to offer advice and suggestions but I try to wait until I'm asked. It's really hard; my first instinct is to fix it. I'm learning to trust that my kids will make good choices and, if they don't, that they'll learn from their mistakes. I'm learning to bite my tongue and sit on my hands because part of growing up is learning the hard way and we can't protect them from that. And, if we do, how will they learn and thus become resilient adults? It is the idea that, by protecting them so much, they can't cope with things and, thus become depressed and anxious. I don't know if that's true but I do know that I was sending my kids a clear message without realising it.

I'm not advocating letting go of parental responsibility by any means. I'm just in the process of learning for myself and my kids what to let them learn for themselves and when to step in. It's the same for my husband, the archetypal "rescuer". One of the kids even told him the other day that by rescuing he made that child feel incompetent. "No good deed goes unpunished!"