In her book "How You Can Survive When They're Depressed," secular author Anne Sheffield coins the term "depression fallout." She writes,
"Living with a
husband, wife, lover, parent, or child who views the world through a
prism of despair is a daunting task. Proximity to them gives rise to
many of the same feelings as does the illness itself: futility,
worthlessness, and an inability to enjoy or cope with life . . .
Depression and depression fallout are mirror images of each other,
distinguishable by the fact that the former is a recognized illness and
treatable by medication, while the latter is neither. We have the
symptoms but not the illness, and they originate in not in our brain's
faulty neurotransmitters, but in the other's behavior and our reaction
to it. . . Confronted with the unrelenting despondency and negativism of
the other's depression, we match it with a painful gloom of our own.
And when our love, sympathy, and support are rejected or ignored, we
slip into irritability and anger that mimic the depressive's"
See, I wasn't kidding when
I asked if depression is contagious. Somehow, there is relief and
validation in these words. I am not alone in my struggle against
depression while trying to help my son battle his.
There is a name for what ails me. Depression fallout. Is there no balm in Gilead?
Christmas was a mixed bag of
hope and despair for me. Son and I had a brief, but I felt valuable,
conversation riding over to a relative's house for Christmas Eve. That
night, son and I went together to midnight candlelight services.
Unfortunately, both were marred by the fact that he had not slept at all
the night before. At our family gathering, he fell asleep in my
brother's chair. Everyone kept asking me if he was okay. Later on, he
could not stay awake during the church service. I feared he would slump
over in the pew or fall into the aisle. Christmas Day saw longer car
ride out of state where the time was pleasant but otherwise
unremarkable.
I think he has been in his room for the two full days after Christmas.
Worst of all,
to my mind anyway, he procrastinated filling out some paperwork that
may have cost him a valuable career opportunity and at least for the
moment, feels like I spent and wasted $500 for updating immunizations
and obtaining a drug screening for this perhaps now squandered career
opportunity.
But see, this is where I need help.
Do I calmly point out that I am upset because he wasted opportunity and
money? I suppose throwing a fit would be counterproductive. Instead,
I asked him to empty the dishwasher and if he would have a job ready
for me by Monday morning -- seeing how I gave it to him a week ago.
How is a parent supposed to respond to the daily frustrations and despair of depression fallout?
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