That's hard - especially if those depressed expect you to be the one to be responsible for keeping their happy-meter filled. I have had to learn to listen and not try to "fix" - My go-to is to be a fixer - and that's not always what is needed or wanted. Thank you the guidance you've given - to the sister - and to all reading.
I'm a recovering go-to fixer. It does somehow seem to get a bit easier as time goes on. Especially as I see the world keep spinning without me trying to grasp control!
Such sound advice for anyone with depression or who is dealing with the depression of a loved one. With sincere warmth and genuine love, we can truly relate and reach out to those in need. Blessings, Linda!
Very clear answers with a gentle tone for anyone seeking help with what your reader is going through. I'll tuck this away to share when the need arises...for myself and others!
Linda, your writer posed such an important question. You, in turn, provided strong and practical answers. My own experience in loving someone with depression taught me the importance of patience, compassion and how oftentimes, how saying less is best: to be concise, knowing the depressed person can't listen to more than a few words before feeling overwhelmed.
Everything you've suggested is SO true, yet one particular piece of advice stood out to me, and something I wished I'd have known at the time: the importance of keeping myself healthy. Not until I had walked out of the dark valley of my loved one's depressed and suicidal period, did I realize the toll it had taken on me. Thankfully, it was then that I sought out a therapist to learn the tools of rest and recovery.
Your advice is going to be SO helpful to others who find themselves in similar situations. Thank you for addressing such an important topic.
Yes, Lisa, when we're in the middle of a long haul, we quickly forget to put on our own 'oxygen mask' first before we tend to those around us (like they remind you before a flight takes off). Again, yet another thing we learn after we're crisp with exhaustion - physical, mental, spiritual - and barely able to function. How wise you were to seek help. Sadly, many people do not ...
I agree completely! Pain has kept me awake and working through the night (he's on oxygen, can barely put weight on his right leg, and still thinks he can build and fly an aeroplane...).
Depression is real and terrible, but it's something I've never known. Barb says I'm like one of those punching-bag clowns...the harder you hit it, the quicker it pops back up, still wearing that silly grin.
It's not a bad epitaph, but I do have to be silent around people with real troubles (and, yes, I've seen that what are derisively called First World Problems can really hurt). Turning everything into a joke doesn't help anyone but me.
Does this make sense to you? Am I missing something, some way in which my character could be of assistance?
You said it all right here - 'Turning everything into a joke doesn't help anyone but me.'
And we do that to keep people from getting too close because we don't want to go there, thinking it'll make the pain and sorrow worse. And we miss out on the connection we could have had with people that care for us. They back off and we're left in isolation.
Linda, yes, and, at least for me, no. I really am happy, and think it's a cool joke that I was always proud of six-pack abs, and now I have an EIGHT- pack... counting two tumours.
I don't try to hold anyone at a distance...under the circumstances, that would be idiotic...but at the same time, I can't do the 'tears of a clown ' thing. It would be false, and in that a kind of begging for sympathy that I don't need.
I love my life, and would not change a thing (except maybe being a couple inches taller, so folks wouldn't mistake me for a garden gnome... haven't cut my beard in two years). I've got a fulfilling ministry, satisfying work, a wonderful wife to whom I can give whole-hearted support, and a great crew of dogs and cat.
I did once talk with a counselor, at Barb's behest. She eventually told me, in some exasperation, "You're so normal that you're bizarre."
Linda, what wonderful advice and a gift you are. This is life-giving. I have been there on both sides and this is a way forward to healing. Bless you.
You're so right. Having been there on both sides gives us a fuller, more realistic perspective ...
That's hard - especially if those depressed expect you to be the one to be responsible for keeping their happy-meter filled. I have had to learn to listen and not try to "fix" - My go-to is to be a fixer - and that's not always what is needed or wanted. Thank you the guidance you've given - to the sister - and to all reading.
I'm a recovering go-to fixer. It does somehow seem to get a bit easier as time goes on. Especially as I see the world keep spinning without me trying to grasp control!
Definitely a tough assignment, and I honor this dear woman for remaining available to her sister.
Yeah. A tough assignment. And one we thought we'd never have to accept.
Such sound advice for anyone with depression or who is dealing with the depression of a loved one. With sincere warmth and genuine love, we can truly relate and reach out to those in need. Blessings, Linda!
Sincere warmth. Genuine love. That describes you to a T, friend.
I am so humbled by your words. God bless you 🙏!
Very clear answers with a gentle tone for anyone seeking help with what your reader is going through. I'll tuck this away to share when the need arises...for myself and others!
Lynn, I hear you! Sometimes what we tuck away for others we end up pulling out for ourselves.
Linda, your writer posed such an important question. You, in turn, provided strong and practical answers. My own experience in loving someone with depression taught me the importance of patience, compassion and how oftentimes, how saying less is best: to be concise, knowing the depressed person can't listen to more than a few words before feeling overwhelmed.
Everything you've suggested is SO true, yet one particular piece of advice stood out to me, and something I wished I'd have known at the time: the importance of keeping myself healthy. Not until I had walked out of the dark valley of my loved one's depressed and suicidal period, did I realize the toll it had taken on me. Thankfully, it was then that I sought out a therapist to learn the tools of rest and recovery.
Your advice is going to be SO helpful to others who find themselves in similar situations. Thank you for addressing such an important topic.
Yes, Lisa, when we're in the middle of a long haul, we quickly forget to put on our own 'oxygen mask' first before we tend to those around us (like they remind you before a flight takes off). Again, yet another thing we learn after we're crisp with exhaustion - physical, mental, spiritual - and barely able to function. How wise you were to seek help. Sadly, many people do not ...
I turn to 2 Corinthians 1:4 when I feel overwhelmed: "He comforts us every time we have trouble, so when others have trouble, we can comfort them."
Pauline, I love that passage. Thank you for sharing it with us. I'm thinking that others will be comforted when they read your comment. Bless you.
Such wonderful advice!
This can be one of the hardest seasons in the life of a family. This I know for sure.
I might say, Hey, show some class;
get up, and keep on moving,
for weeping there upon your a**,
you will not be improving
the circumstances that led to
this puddle-storm of tears.
Wipe them off, let this be through,
and go and face your fears.
I might say this, I really might,
for I'm a prideful man
who has made it through each night,
for, by God, I CAN,
but advising this won't work,
and simply labels me a jerk.
Exactly what NOT to say, pal. A fine example, for sure. You're pretty spunky early this morning.
I agree completely! Pain has kept me awake and working through the night (he's on oxygen, can barely put weight on his right leg, and still thinks he can build and fly an aeroplane...).
Depression is real and terrible, but it's something I've never known. Barb says I'm like one of those punching-bag clowns...the harder you hit it, the quicker it pops back up, still wearing that silly grin.
It's not a bad epitaph, but I do have to be silent around people with real troubles (and, yes, I've seen that what are derisively called First World Problems can really hurt). Turning everything into a joke doesn't help anyone but me.
Does this make sense to you? Am I missing something, some way in which my character could be of assistance?
You said it all right here - 'Turning everything into a joke doesn't help anyone but me.'
And we do that to keep people from getting too close because we don't want to go there, thinking it'll make the pain and sorrow worse. And we miss out on the connection we could have had with people that care for us. They back off and we're left in isolation.
Linda, yes, and, at least for me, no. I really am happy, and think it's a cool joke that I was always proud of six-pack abs, and now I have an EIGHT- pack... counting two tumours.
I don't try to hold anyone at a distance...under the circumstances, that would be idiotic...but at the same time, I can't do the 'tears of a clown ' thing. It would be false, and in that a kind of begging for sympathy that I don't need.
I love my life, and would not change a thing (except maybe being a couple inches taller, so folks wouldn't mistake me for a garden gnome... haven't cut my beard in two years). I've got a fulfilling ministry, satisfying work, a wonderful wife to whom I can give whole-hearted support, and a great crew of dogs and cat.
I did once talk with a counselor, at Barb's behest. She eventually told me, in some exasperation, "You're so normal that you're bizarre."
High praise indeed!