Friday, March 27, 2009


A friend sends me an email the other day . . . "Where have you been? I called you three times!" She reminds me that sometimes it's actually good to hear each other's voices. I am known to be the absolute worst at returning phone calls, but I usually return this friend's calls.

Despite not having talked, she tells me that she thinks I might be depressed. She wants me to go get something called Sam-e at Costco. It's an herbal supplement for depression. I'm surprised that someone who lives hundreds of miles away can tell that something is wrong but that's a good friend for you.

Yesterday, my mom calls from work . . . she's in-between patients so she gives me quick instructions. She thinks I might be depressed and wants me to take Saint John's Wort. She says I'm not acting like myself and, "Your father noticed too!" If my dad noticed, then I realize it must be pretty obvious. She tells me lots of people are depressed right now due to the economy.

I decide to talk to my husband about it. More than anything, I'm curious about what his reaction will be. As we're watching the kids play, I turn to him and say that I think I might be depressed. "Don't say that. That's depressing." Well, I thought you might want to know. Do you think I've been acting strange? Like, maybe a little withdrawn? "Hmm? I don't know. Be happy that you're human and not a slug." What? "Humans are doing really well on the planet. Go humans!" Are you quoting an oatmeal commercial? That is the strangest pep talk I've ever heard. "What?" Nevermind.

I have to go to the pharmacy and what should have taken 10 minutes, takes an hour. As I'm waiting in line -trying not to stress out - I hear one of the pharmacists consult with the lady in front of me. They discuss a stack of new prescriptions . . . sleeping pills, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety medications. I'm struck by the way the lady sounds when she talks. She sounds SOOOO depressed. Please get her the meds immediately. When she turns around, I look into the face of a very depressed person. I realize I'm not really depressed.

I am detached. February was one of the worst months in recent memory after months of tension. It took all of my concentration and discipline to deal with what was happening. I was running on adrenaline and determination to protect the home environment for my children. Now that things have mellowed on that front, I've detached. I feel like a part of me is floating above my life and evaluating what's left.

What made me feel better . . . coming home from the pharmacy to see my daughter playing outside. She had used orange chalk to draw her "fire" on the cement and tied a My Little Pony to the edge of the hot tub so that it dangled over the fire. I asked her what she was doing . . . "I'm roasting a pony" then "Mom, it's just pretend, OK? It's just pretend."

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