Some more digging to understand depression led me to this website which clearly illustrates how it is not one but many things caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain and not necessarily by external factors. Mental illness is treated so very differently (or indifferently) from physical illness because it is not visible in the same way. When somebody breaks a leg all his or her friends come to sign the cast but when he or she is depressed, there is no one in sight.

http://www.upworthy.com/a-mother-doesnt-understand-why-her-daughters-depressed-her-daughter-clears-that-up-for-her?c=ufb1

Misconception #1: Depression is triggered by a single event or series of traumatic events.

Most people think depression is triggered by a traumatic event: a loved one dying, a job loss, a national tragedy, some THING. The truth is that depression sometimes just appears out of nowhere. So when you think that a friend or loved one is just in an extended bad mood, reconsider. They could be suffering from depression.

Misconception #2: People with depression are only sad.

Most people who have never experienced depression think depression is just an overwhelming sadness. In reality, depression is a complex set of feelings and physical changes in the body. People who suffer from depression are sad, yes, but they can also be anxious, worried, apathetic, and tense, among other things.

Misconception #3: You can snap out of it.

The thing with depression is that it’s a medical condition that affects your brain chemistry. It has to do with environmental or biological factors first and foremost. Sabrina’s mother seems to think that if her daughter would only go through the motions of being happy that then she would become happy. But that’s not the case. Depression is a biological illness that leaks into your state of being.

Think of it this way: If you had a cold, could you just “snap out of it”?

No? Exactly.

It’s the 16^th again.

4 months have gone by. Can you believe that? It was autumn then. The seasons have changed. The harbinger of spring is here already.

Seeing these pure little white drops of hope shyly bending their heads but very resilient inside reminds me of the human spirit and its strength, surviving through all the moods and cycles of nature while retaining its beauty and zest for life, sustaining its breath through the vacuum around, capturing the few rays of light coming through the canopy of hopeless darkness and declaring its joyous victory over itself with humility and grace.

Snowdrops by Louise Glück

Do you know what I was, how I lived?
You know what despair is;
Then winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me.
I didn’t expect to waken again,
to feel in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring – afraid,
yes,
but among you again
crying yet risking joy
in the raw wind of the new world.

This morning a friend pointed out a lady he knew well who had lost her son in a road traffic accident just before Christmas. I really felt her pain. Although I had never met her before, I found an appropriate time to walk up to her and express how sorry I was for her loss and gave her a gentle hug. She accepted my gesture gracefully.

‘The Elephant in the room’: this idiom could be used to describe the situation with friends and acquaintances sometimes. I think awkwardness around themes such as death, especially suicide, mental illness and emotional vulnerability is very common. During a consultation with a doctor from a traditional medical discipline, I mentioned the fact that I had recently lost my son might be affecting my health. The consultation ended with not so much as an acknowledgement of that statement.

Death is the surest part of life. If one is born one must die. Family and friends of the deceased feeling sad is perfectly normal. Why the awkwardness? May be it comes from within us, possibly at our perceived inability to handle their feelings if they were to come out. Or is it because of a concept of ‘intrusion’?

Stiff upper lip is a deformity. I think the more I express myself, the healthier it is for me and others around me. It allows for our collective humanness. The most heartfelt sympathies I have felt have been silent ones – just a hug, or a tender smile and hand shake. The simplest of sentences say a lot, “How are you? I am so sorry for your loss”.

With reference to this morning, all I did was place enough trust in myself to say the right thing with all honesty.

My being has shifted. It dwells in greyness, coming out for some light every now and then. Reading through a beautiful book of memories and tributes created by a dear friend of his, I felt proud, sad and grateful. He brought light to so many people including me, mostly, through his kindness and humour.

A friend mentioned that her mother believed that it takes at least 7 years to get past something like this. Do I have to wait to get ‘past it’ before I can find joy and meaning? What does it mean to get ‘past it’ anyway? Do I really want to? Every morning I wake up with the thought of another day without him, the pain and anguish of it! Could I rejoice in the knowledge that he lives and will continue to do so in a way that is beyond my understanding?

Could I transform myself from a grey shadow into a source of light?

“Inside this new love, die.
Your way begins on the other side.
Become the sky.
Take an axe to the wall.
Escape. Walk out.
Like someone suddenly born into colour.
Do it now.
You’re covered in thick cloud.
Slide out the side. Die.
And be quiet.
Quietness is the surest sign that you’ve died.
Your old life was a frantic running from silence.
The speechless full moon comes out now.”

-Rumi.

Sitting by the fire on a wet, cold and windy day in the company of friends is very comforting. This is what I have been doing all day. Looking at the dancing flames changing shapes every second and listening to the hissing and crackling sounds made me think about my changing relationship with fire, the ultimate witness: surrendering my son to it, using it as a medium to help him easily and peacefully transcend into the ethereal plane and now getting comforted and reassured by it.

Today was a day of consciously not mentioning him in conversation every time I thought of him. Lately that was becoming a temptation that I gave in to at every opportunity. I don’t have to worry about others or me forgetting him. Too many soft spots have been created for him in too many hearts for his memory to be easily erased. I am reminded of the lyrics of one of my favourite songs, Hotel California by The Eagles:

“You can check-out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

One of his dear friends sent me a framed picture of them looking absolutely marvellous together in black tie. This insightful young man had the courage to share how he had found it so difficult to deal with loosing a dear friend so suddenly. His letter said “I remember how much he wanted to introduce us to you. He was extremely proud to call you his mother…. please keep finding beauty in every aspect of life…”

I am so grateful to you for such honest and loving communication.

We are not alone. We have each other, now and always.