It seems as though I have dealt with depression in my family since I have been very young. My father died when I was 14 years old and my mother went into a deep depression after his death. Within the year she had to be institutionalized in a mental hospital in Minnesota. During 6 months of hospitalization she had shock treatments and therapy. I visited her and it was frightening. The hospital was a dark, dismal, prison-like facility with doors that clinked behind you after you were let in by the staff. I remember feeling so sorry for my mom being inside those locked doors, but it seemed the only place to put her in back in 1958. Over the years she continued to have problems with depression and was treated in various ways, from hospitalization to medication. Now at 87, medication finally has her depression under control.

Because of my mother's severe depression, it left an awareness in me that I should be always cautious of my own mental health. I have been lucky...at age 55 I have been spared the illness from which my mother suffered so much. My mother-in-law suffered from depression also. Now my two daughters are adults. With both their grandmothers suffering from severe depression, it had crossed my mind they could both be at high risk for the same problems. Of course, this was way in the back of my mind...my daughters are both healthy and would be spared from this tortuous illness, wouldn't they?

But, in late November, 1997 I received a very frantic call from my oldest daughter. She was crying and her voice was very shaky....... she could barely talk. Finally, she told me she had seen a doctor and was in a severe depression and didn't know what to do. She felt life was hopeless and that the world was coming down upon her. I remember thinking somehow I have got to get her from her city to ours, quickly. It was a very touchy situation. I was scared as thoughts of suicide possibilities fled through my mind. It was obvious, she was not capable of making any decisions, so I made them for her. I just had to get her close to me so I could help her. I told her to come to my home. She packed all her things, put them in storage and was here within a day. Over the next month she went through a wide range of emotions. We visited doctors, talked, cried, etc. What would we do?

It was a difficult time, packed with emotions for our family. As we assessed her situation and tried to figure out what to do, I was dealing with my own emotions, ranging from empathy and sadness to fear and anger. I felt sadness and empathy that my child was in such distress. I experienced fear and anger that I have dealt with depression to those close to me for forty years and it's not going to go away....it was here again! With the help of God, my very supportive partner, my youngest daughter and son-in-law and a host of other resources, my mind became clearer. I also realized that because I have had so much experience with depression, I had been blessed with the skills necessary to deal with depression again.

So we began the process of finding a solution for her. Our first step was to be honest and direct with her. I asked her straight out if she felt suicidal, she said she did. I explained that the depression she was suffering from was physiological and a normal problem we could deal with. I know that because of the state she was in, she didn't believe it. She went through the motions with us while we visited doctors and accessed the resources available to us. Rest, food and lots of love were in order. The next months would not be easy as she vacillated from happiness to sadness and loneliness.

Eventually she wanted to move back to her own place. She did, with real mixed feelings. Over the next months she struggled with the depression and loneliness, but blessings would be forthcoming for her. She struggled with work and continued to attend classes towards her MBA. During the last quarter, she cut back on her class schedule, to one. It turned out to be one of the best, a class on business psychology which dealt in depth with understanding oneself in order to be a better business manager. By the end of the quarter she realized that she needed psychiatric help and scheduled appointments. After a clear understanding of how medication would help her, the physician prescribed medication.

It has helped. She sleeps, eats, exercises and sees life from a better perspective. She can make sound decisions and utilize the resources available to her. But most importantly, she is happy. I am so grateful that she allowed me to help. It's not easy to ask for help and swallow your pride. I'm also grateful that I had the necessary skills to listen and not judge her, thereby enabling us to work together. I believe this is the number one reason she didn't commit suicide.

In looking back over the forty years dealing with depression, the one thing I remember most is the stigma that was evident from the community. Are we better educated in 1998? How do we feel about depression? Are we more open and understanding? God, I hope so.

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