I know things will not always be good. I know they haven’t been good. I know that some days, I think they will never be good again. Once I get in that black-cloud mood, it’s hard to get out of. Living with someone with severe depression is rough. I am very seldom in that deep, dark cavern. More often, it’s just dim. Right now, it’s not mid-day sunny, but it ain’t twilight, either.
Robin Williams just died. The media has been showing us all sorts of memorials, stories on depression and honestly, it hit me. We can’t fix it. We can’t say “suck it up.” Nothing may do any good. Each person is different. Depression is personal, and may be magnified by any number of things. Mental health is tricky. Just because someone is still depressed, in a deep dark place, doesn’t mean they aren’t trying to get out of it, or to survive another day.
I am not a “happy person,” but I know that dwelling on the bad gets us nowhere. It’s hard to remember sometimes.
I love the two men in my life: T, my partner, my best friend, and my “soul mate,” as much as I’ve ever had one. M, my son, my foil, and the most curious teen I’ve ever known. They both inspire me and drive me bat-shit crazy. We’ve talked a lot this week about Robin Williams, depression, suicide, and also (oddly) marriage, family, and growing up (M’s teacher is marrying her partner.)
“Are you guys going to get married?” M asked. T said, “No,” matter of factly. M asked, “Why not?” T replied, “I think that’s a conversation for when you’re a little older.”
“I want to be an architect,” says M, out of nowhere. “Do you know the School of the Art Institute of Chicago?”
Um. Yes, kiddo, and let me tell you about architecture, Chicago, and your first-cousins once removed. And your dad. I would be so proud.
I’m proud, anyway, that he’s starting to think.
School schedule fixed. No transportation.
Ok, I don’t have time to really make these thoughts whole, so I’ll have to leave it at that.