Depression - Can it be contagious?

The sight of his closed bedroom door ties my stomach in knots and I feel the weight of the world almost physically press my shoulders down.  I confess that most days, my mood and my outlook on life seem to mirror his.  Oh, how I have prayed for this child!  And yet, my prayers seem to be falling on deaf ears.

I strain my ears in an attempt to discern what he could be possibly doing in there after so many hours.   The door stays closed.  I wonder, if I lay down on the floor, will I be able to discern if there's even a light on in there?

Some days,  through that closed door, I can hear a low murmur of him talking on the phone and his voice sounds pleasantly normal.  I wish I could hear who he is talking to and what he is saying.  But I feel hope soar, a tenuous smile curves my lips, and there is a lightness to my steps.

Some days, I hear the rapid-fire tapping of his keyboard, and I know he is working.  I thank God for this age of technology where people can work from home using computer and internet and never have to go to the office.   At least he is doing something productive and learning life skills.

But then there's the day like today.  No sound comes from the inner sanctum.  No light.  Is he sleeping?  Is he staring at the wall?  After hours pass, I get bold enough to knock on the door.  I really could use his help.  When he responds, I can tell he has not been sleeping.  I open the door and discover him at his standing desk, playing a computer game.  In the dark.

It takes great effort to keep my despair from entering my voice  for him to hear.  Lend a hand? I ask, and he nods.  I explain.  He nods.  No words.

He moves through the house, silently, like a wraith, a ghost inhabiting my house.  He does as he is asked, and just as wordlessly, returns to his room.  Wait, I say.  He responds with a slightly raised eyebrow.  I continue:  open your blinds, the sun is shining.  And please, leave your door open for a while so you can hear me if I call you.  He does as I ask, but still without words.

A slow dull ache starts in my head.  Tears prickle behind my eyes.   A deep fatigue overwhelms my body, mind, and spirit.  I am so tired, I just cannot go on.

Yes, I think.  This depression, this evil illness, it is contagious.