When you’re too depressed to ask for help…

Posted on November 5, 2010 by elizabeth

You know you're depressed when the first thought upon waking is: "How long until I get to go back to bed?"

At one point I wrote some lines of poetry trying to describe what the depression felt like. I forced myself to be as accurate and honest as possible. When I re-read it a day later, I was so terrified by what I'd written that I immediately shredded it.

I didn't want my children or husband to see what I had seen: a vast, bottomless chasm of darkness.

I think that's when hope started fading. While I ignored it, this PPD depression had secretly grown into a monster. There was no way I could fight this thing down by myself.

I had caught a glimpse of the terrible monster and before I started fighting, I felt defeated.

What really amazes me in retrospect is how I managed to still perform the daily tasks necessary to survival. I cooked, I cleaned, I did laundry. 

But I don't think I could have kept up for much longer. I was already collapsing onto the couch by 10 a.m.. It was my mother who first noticed that something had gone terribly wrong.

"Honey," she said, "you've seemed so tired. Are you really that sleepy by 10 am?"

I had grown so accustomed to the heavy weight of tiredness that I simply shrugged. Isn't everyone exhausted by 10am?

Feeling sick and tired had become the norm. 

The depression was so frightening that I could scarcely bear to look it in the face. Instead, I just kept slogging through, shut off from my life, from laughter, from feeling anything except a pervasive numbness.

One day something made me laugh and that was when I realized: "Hey, I haven't laughed in, like, months!"

When you're that depressed, you don't even have the energy to ask for help. 

And I couldn't go to church, either. Church was for "encouraged" people who wore nice outfits and had their children sing in the choir. I was a broken, beat-up mess. 

But all was not lost.

My mother saw me. And when she asked what was wrong, I finally had the courage to be honest. 

"I need help."

My mother rescued me.

"Honey," she said, "I'm going to help you get better. My goal is to have you feeling better by mid-Fall."

She supported me placing the twins in full-time preschool. She babysat my kids on weekends so I could rest. She encouraged me to start sewing again.

I honestly don't know what might have happened to me if my mother had not seen me in my distress. I probably would have ended up in the hospital. It makes my heart break for everyone who suffers silently and alone. Sometimes all we need is for someone to see us.

We need someone to tell us: "You're not alone. I'm here to help."

I've been in Mommy Rehab since mid-July. 

Now, I can feel the sunshine again. And I want you to know:

You are not alone. Depression is not your fault.
Everyone needs help sometimes.
Just say it.
"I need help." 

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  • http://www.bigmama247.com Alise

    You know, I too am so thankful for people in my life who have seen me struggle and have helped. Not asked if I need help, but who have just stepped in and GIVEN help. Sometimes even asking for help is difficult and accepting offers is hard. I really try now to make sure that if I offer help, it’s specific and pointed. “Let me watch the kids on Thursday.” “Let’s get together and have coffee.” I could usually say yes to those things, even if I couldn’t accept the “can I help?” offers.

  • http://therosarytrail.com/ Margo

    Elizabeth, this is such a touching post. It made me almost cry. I am so happy to read about your mother taking the reigns and coming to your rescue. I can’t imagine what PPD depression must be like, but I did walk in on someone who was about to commit suicide last February. I was told that he was suffering from depression and the doctors said that had I arrived half an hour to 45 minutes later he would’ve been dead. He was closed up in his garage with two cars running, drunk and unconscious when I found him. I ache for the people who don’t know enough to seek help or who are too far gone to have the energy to reach out. Thank you for making us all aware of how serious a condition depression is. Your mom sounds amazing:)

  • http://www.mamasdiet.blogspot.com missy

    I’ve said it. Many times. They say they’ll help and then promptly forget about me. I’m freaking invisible.

    Yes, that sounds pathetic. I’m just so deep in the pit right now that I can’t manage put a light spin on it.

    You are very blessed that you matter to someone enough that they follow through and actually help you. Very blessed, indeed.

  • http://profile.typepad.com/elizabethesther Elizabeth Esther

    I know some words on a computer screen aren’t enough to adequately help you. But I just want you to know that I think it’s very brave for you to write here. You’re not invisible. I see your words. You’re not alone.

  • Wendy

    Postpartum depression turned me into a victim incapable of speaking for myself. It lasted a long time, but my best friend saw me. One time she came to my house at 2 a.m. and took me to her house to talk and cry and sleep. Another time she got in my husband’s and parents’ faces insisting that I was not okay and I needed help NOW. She didn’t back off until there was a plan of action. I didn’t get better right away, there were no quick fixes for me, but I’m thankful I never have to know what would have happened if she hadn’t been there.

  • leigh ann

    missy, i know how you feel. people say they will help, but they expect you to know exactly what you need. i don’t know what i need. and i don’t know the words to express it. i do know that if i told some people(not my husband) i was depressed, i would get a lecture. i hold on to the verse that says “Who is among you that feareth the LORD, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the LORD, and stay upon his God.” it reminds me that being in the darkness does not mean God is finished with me.

    i am still trying to find the way out. my husband sticks with me during the very low time. he tries to let me sleep (have newborn still night nursing) but his work is pretty intense and he is worn out. our son is special needs and i dread getting up in the morning because of all the pressure of homeschooling him. i feel like i am failing every body in every way.

    thanks for posting this. it is helpful just to know that i am not alone and the lack of energy, passion, motivation and everything else is something real and not just me being lazy.

  • Melinda

    You know you’re depressed when the first thought upon waking is: “How long until I get to go back to bed?”

    Wow – by that criteria I’ve been depressed since 1995. I just thought having babies made you tired all the time. But to be more accurate, my first thought on waking is “Oh crap, do I have to get up now? What’s the chance of a mid-morning nap?”

  • Rachel Maes

    thank you. so much.

  • Nancy

    Leigh Ann, please, please, please go to your doctor and tell her/him what you’re going through. Your doctor may be able to direct you to respite care services to help with your son, or prescribe something to help you get through this dark time. And I really hope you don’t have people telling you that depression is a sin . . . it’s a chemical problem, just like diabetes is.

    My husband has lost one uncle and one aunt to suicide, and his mom struggles with depression. She is a Christ-loving Catholic woman who would not be alive today without medication. She is a gift to me, and I can’t imagine what our lives would be like without her. All that to say, depression can be deadly, and you don’t have to gut it out on your own.

    If you feel you don’t know what you need, tell your doctor and she will help you figure out what you need. Wish we knew each other in real life so I could bring you a meal or clean your house for you.
    With love,
    Nancy

  • leigh ann

    thank you for the kind thoughts, nancy. this post and your response motivated me to talk to my husband and use your words to describe what i was feeling. we are planning the way forward.
    thank you both.
    leigh ann

  • http://delightcrochet.etsy.com Char

    I have been reading your blog for several months now, and I had to post today, just to say thank you. I have been struggling for three and a half years, since my daughter was born. Your posts put words to so much of what I have been feeling, and this last week I finally went to see a doctor. For the first time in over three years, I have a bit of hope that I might feel “normal” again soon.

    Thank you… for sharing your journey. You will never know how much it has helped!

  • leigh ann

    but i am afraid that we will try everthing (more sleep, better diet, more exercise and meds), and i will still be the same (passionless, empty, lifeless). which just means this is me. but i don’t want to be this way. i just want to be happy and excited about life and family.

  • http://www.slogrownorganics.com Lara

    My husband finally did come to my rescue and I’m above water again, but I’ve been where Missy is. After weeks of telling my husband, “I can’t do this.” He said, “I don’t want to hear you say that anymore.” In other words, “suck it up”. When I would ask my mom to watch my kids so I could sleep she would, but she was annoyed. No one did that for her. Sleep wasn’t a good enough reason for a babysitter. The dentist or a hair cut or putting on a babyshower were good reasons, but not sleep. Oh.
    Like you, I finally put my daughter in pre-school. I would drop her off at nine, put my son down for a nap and sleep deeply myself for two full hours. Then I could function at least.
    **shh…don’t tell, but I also hired a lady to clean my kitchen and bathroom every other week. Heaven!** =)
    My husband now understands and is deeply grieved by how much those words hurt me. I’m just thankful he remained faithful to me. I wasn’t very lovable in that state.

  • http://www.thoughts-of-home.blogspot.com Carole

    What? It’s not normal to be tired by 10am?

    The thing is, as young moms it’s so difficult to separate sleep deprivation from depression. You can’t. They’re interrelated. So for myself I often write it off as “I just need a nap.” That I do tell myself. I also had to admit, as you said, that “I need help.” That I found very hard to do, mostly because I didn’t (couldn’t) identify it myself. “What is wrong with me??” was what I thought for a long time before I gave myself permission to stop that train of thought and instead say, “This isn’t me. I need help.”

    Thanks for being vocal about depression. It’s so hard to do and is so important for others facing similar struggles.

  • Amy

    Wow, you just described me so clearly, and lots of other moms, too. Sometimes it helps just to know you’re not alone. After we adopted our third child, I became this horrible person that I didn’t know. I was sure that nothing could bring me back so I didn’t even ask for help. In one session with a family counselor, she connected experiences for me that all made sense. Now that I can see what was eating me, I can imagine my old self. And after neglecting myself and gaining weight (and not giving a flip), I’m preparing to run/walk a half marathon in January.

    It’s awesome that you have your mom to help and that she *wants* to help. What a blessing that she didn’t tell you to suck it up. Yay mom! And yay you for getting what you need.

  • Pamela

    “It makes my heart break for everyone who suffers silently and alone. Sometimes all we need is for someone to see us.”

    Very well put.

    A dear friend told me recently that some hurts are allowed by God, so that we can be “that person” who sees others who are hurting, “that person” who reaches out.

  • Pamela

    “It makes my heart break for everyone who suffers silently and alone. Sometimes all we need is for someone to see us.”

    Extremely well put.

    A dear friend told me a few days ago that God allows some hurts, so He can use us to be “that person” who does see when someone else is hurting, “that person” who will reach out to help.

  • http://www.mamasdiet.blogspot.com missy

    Thank you so much, Elizabeth, for your kind words.

  • http://www.mamasdiet.blogspot.com missy

    Craig…I am just speechless at your promise to pray for me. Unbelievably kind and I am humbled. THANK YOU. I wish I had better words. THANK YOU SO MUCH.

  • Jack

    Honey, take your medicine and thank God for the provision He has made for you.

    Nobody expects you to be superwoman but yourself.

    And any woman who can write like you do IS a success!

  • Mark

    EE, this is so close to my heart and my own experience of profound depression and I feel mine drawn to all those who suffer the same as we do. In my case it was my wife who stepped in. She saved me. When we are given our lives back, we realize how deeply we are loved, how we are consoled by our loved ones and by God who is Father to us. So many levels of caring that it boggles my poor mind. You captured this so beautifully. Thank you for being open to put it out for all to see. This is a cause for great joy.

  • Mark

    leigh ann, please look past the being afraid part. I know what I went through in my darkest times. There are many combinations and one WILL work for you. Be assured that my prayers and those of others here are with you as is God who wants you to feel better. You are NOT alone.

  • http://simply-rea.blogspot.com/ Rea

    Excellent post.

    And then there are those of us who are stubborn, who think “I can tough this out on my own” even when people are asking us if we need help. My husband reminds me that the doctors questioned if I had PPD and suggested getting help, but I refused. I don’t even remember it. I remember the lactation consultant talking to me after I had my 2nd child and telling me I was borderline for PPD, and I remember saying “No, I think I’ll try to handle it on my own.”

    I was so stupid and so stubborn. My 2nd was 3 years old before I finally broke down and asked for help. That was a grand total of almost 6 years of living under a cloud, of feeling like an evil mother (because for me PPD took the form of post-partum OCD, heavy on the obsessive).

    And still I struggled with the idea of taking medication, when my counselor suggested I should consider it. But 2 1/2 years later I can say I am so glad I did. I have my life back.

    It doesn’t mean I don’t feel the darkness closing in sometimes, but I can think clearly enough now to do what I need to do for it.

    It does get better, when you ask for help. It really does.

  • hope…?

    EE, thank you for this post. your mother sounds like an angel of mercy and a lifesaver. Leigh-Ann…passionless, empty, lifeless. Yes. I feel that description, too. Thank you for the verse. Lara, i am still in the dark, murky swamp and my spouse is currently saying those things to me-suck it up, spiritual deficit, etc. i understand this is hard for him, too, especially since he can’t ‘fix it’. life is so gray and has been for a few years since i unwittingly married a conservative fundie (i get criticized for that, also-complicated-how does one even begin to explain how something like this could really happen? Please believe me, someone-anyone, when I say that it can.) Yes, we can put on facades that protect the last shred of any dignity we may have, facades that enable us to do bare bones chores, facades that enable us to smile to guests and step-family and weep in the dark. i drive to places where no one can recognize me and weep in parking lots. home is not safe for that. home is not even ‘home’.

    i have always posted here as an anonymous. even that is depressing though it is necessary. the details of my life now are not generic enough for much disclosure. Today, though, I will sign off as ‘hope?’ because some of you have made it out into the sunlight. mine is not PPD. it is PMD-post-marriage depression. I have been told mine is situational depression. but how does one change ‘the situation’? adding the shame of an ‘unwarranted’ divorce would compound the darkness. it’s a complicated non-option. spiritual abuse is hideous. even churches no longer feel ‘safe’.

  • leigh ann

    my heart breaks for you. i am praying for you now. you are not alone. there are folks out here that understand.
    leigh ann

  • http://www.storinguptreasures.com Courtney

    Wow. I could have written this word for word. I just came out of a deep depression and everything you wrote here is spot on. I never understood depression….. and then it happened to me. And it was like the darkness swallowed me up and I couldn’t find a way to the light. So very scary.

  • hope…?

    Thank you, leigh ann-your prayers and comments mean more than you can know. i am praying for you, too, for sunlight to return to your life.

  • http://outnumbered2.blogspot.com/ Navhelowife

    Hope..?
    Please find a counselor that you can talk to. Please get help for yourself. You are a precious child of God, and deserve to have support around you. An ‘unwarranted’ divorce? If your spouse is unwilling to be one with you and support you with love, that is cause for much concern and honestly, doesn’t sound like what God intended for marriage. It sounds like cruelty.If home is not even home, that is no way to live, and what use is pride if you can’t even enjoy your life? Perhaps a counselor can help you to find a way out of this hole, allowing you to see that God did not intend for you to live in darkness. It’s just that sometimes other people have to hold the lantern for us until we are strong enough to hold it ourselves. I pray that you find your lantern holder and make it out of this darkness.

  • http://www.alittlebarefoot.wordpress.com jen @ a little barefoot blog

    my mother did the same thing for me years ago. it wasn’t ppd but it was horrifying just the same, to find those dark passages in my notebook, scarcely recalling writing them. my mother recognized it and she promised me that she’d help me get better. it was the first glimmer of hope i’d had in months. and she did help me get better. i only pray that I can be that sort of mother to my children. beautiful post. good for you for striving to get better.

  • http://www.slogrownorganics.com Lara

    hope…? Do you live in SLO or near it? Can we go have coffee together? e-mail me: lclaity at gmail dot com.

  • handsfull

    Hope…?
    I’ve never been in your situation, but I’ve felt the pain you describe. My situation changed, and the light came back. What I really wanted to tell you was about a good friend of mine who had a VERY difficult marriage. She was told by many people to leave her husband (he wasn’t abusive), but stuck it out and has prayed her heart out for 11yrs. She has had a few friends she could vent to, who also prayed for her and her husband, and just a month ago the blinkers finally came off her husbands eyes and he is a changed man.
    To me this is proof that nothing is impossible with God. It has taken a long time, and for almost all of that time her situation looked impossible, but God has been faithful.
    God is a God of hope – do not dispair!

  • hope…?

    Lara, your offer is so kind! I live several thousand miles from SLO, as it stands.

  • hope…?

    Thank you, Navhelowife and handsfull-your encouragement is light in a dark place. I do pray for my spouse and need to continue. Some days I get discouraged and don’t. Sometimes things can look so hopeless and entrenched. It is helpful, though, very helpful to read of someone who finally had the huge blessing of seeing blinders come off a spouse. Yes, a lantern-holder who truly understands and is safe would be huge.

  • http://www.squidoo.com/churchcartoons Jenn

    thanks for sharing your experience. I wrote stuff down too when I was deeply depressed. I’m glad I kept some of it. A reminder of just how bad it got. And the unbelievable reality that I thought I could get myself through it without any help. Thank God I got therapy and now I know what it feels like to actually live.