A few years ago I sank into an 18 month journey with depression. It wasn't my first go-round with it, but it was my first time dealing with it in sobriety. I couldn't drink it away and had no idea what to do. At the encouragement of the nonblogging friend, I saw my doctor and started on an anti-depressant. The good news is that I did eventually come out of my depression. The bad news is that the medication did not help me, and a year later I was twenty pounds heavier (a side effect of the last prescription I tried) and still felt miserable.
I was talking to my sponsor one day and she asked me if I would be open to talking to someone, like a therapist. I said I wasn't opposed to it, but that I didn't see the point. I wasn't upset about anything, and I looked at the depression like a medical condition and nothing more. I had no idea what I was talking about.
The truth was that my ADHD son was at the heart of my problem. My overwhelming feelings of failure and inadequacy had led me into a hole I could not climb out of. I felt completely helpless to do anything for him. I wish I had read an article like this back during that dark time: ADHD Moms: Are we at risk?
Once I knew what was causing my depression, I was able to find ways out of it. I took my heartbreak to God time and again, and asked Him to show me the way. I am thankful to no longer feel that way anymore, but it took a lot of emotional work. I had to choose to accept what I could not do, but focus on what I could do and not let negative self-talk eat away at me. My son is never going to be cured, and he may never be like other kids. And that's ok. I love him, God loves him, and he will be ok. God has granted me that measure of serenity.