People are, generally, awesome.

Last week, I sat in the allergist's office as she injected some 39 tiny needles into my arms. As I waited in the quiet for the track marks to appear and my respiratory enemies to make themselves known, unable to troll facebook because...well, you know..., my mind had time to wander. Why do people subject themselves to this? What was I really going to do with this coming information?

The answer, obviously, with all allergens, is that knowledge is power. Once I know what is making me sick, then I will be able to avoid those things, or take measures to prevent a reaction if I know I'm going to be exposed. I will know more about what makes me uniquely me, and understand how I can endure a three month sinus infection by simply breathing the same air as something that my friend can snuggle up to and kiss on the mouth.

It occurred to me then that when I wrote that last post, I was essentially declaring an allergy. What may never negatively affect someone else was making me sick.

Or, as my pastor said yesterday: It wasn't helping me run.  (Hebrews 12:1)

I had NO IDEA that I would receive such an overwhelming response.

As I composed last week's post, I didn't think I was revealing anything surprising about my life. Those who know me best know that I can spend long periods of time disengaged and aloof, simply functioning. They've experienced those days where I am blinking away tears during a conversation about the weather. (Or evading conversation - or even eye-contact - altogether so that the tears won't out me). They know that there are months where I struggle in social situations and would often prefer to avoid them altogether, because it's just easier. And they know that I am perpetually discouraged about my weight.

But that's not the stuff I post on facebook. Using the word "depression" must have seemed a stark contrast to the snarky, concert-going, world-traveling, homeschool rock star, social butterfly occupying my feed. Of course, I am all of those things - but I am also some other, less attractive, less healthy things. Things that never get posted, by anyone.

But I thought people knew.


Which is why I was genuinely surprised when, within minutes of posting, my phone was buzzing with sweet friends saying "hey, me too." Or "thank you for your boldness!" Or "Ok, but you really do know you're awesome, right?" I had emails from people declaring solidarity in a post-facebook world, and even an amazing card delivered by the mailman.

That's right. Someone took the time to mail me a card, and I still cry when I think about how sweet it is.

Friends, this is something we need to get right, like you did this week. For our own health and the well-being of our friends, we need to be able to say "I'm depressed today for no particular reason," with the same freedom that we can say "I have a sinus infection." And we need to hear those two things with the same ears - understanding that while neither condition is really contagious, the symptoms of one are treatable by simple acts of friendship and community - like I experienced this week.

Thank you, my friends. You are, generally, awesome.



(For the record, I am allergic to dogs, molds, and facebook.)

Comments

Tina T. said…
Amy, tell your friends that you have hereditary endogenous depression and are having a bad day. At the very least, they will learn that endogenous means it is not due to something happening in your life. It should be said in the same way people say they have brittle diabetes and their sugar is running high or low that day. Neither one of these illnesses is the affected person's fault. Thank goodness both of these genetically carried illnesses has treatment, although it may never be perfect. When I was in college having PTSD and Major Depression, there was no medical treatment, and talk therapy was sparse, expensive, and did nothing. Relatives do not usually disclose psychiatric histories due to shame. This secrecy is counter-therapeutic (my own word). When depression was diagnosed in Grady's and my family, Aunt Sissy was the only one forthcoming about her life-long depression. Thank goodness for her. We are with you in this struggle. Call or visit us anytime. Love, Aunt Tina

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