A history of depression runs in my family. I myself am familiar with depression, having had a few episodes in my life. This grief experience, so far feels very similar to a horrible depressive episode. The symptoms are very similar: deep sadness (obviously), lack of concentration (I totally zone out a LOT), fatigue and paradoxical bad insomnia (can’t shut my brain off at night!), inability to make simple decisions, a sensation of moving through molasses (so tiring), loss of interest in activities and people (nothing has meaning anymore), feelings of guilt, appetite change, and suicidal ideation (no worries, I’m not at risk for attempting suicide but I’ll admit I have moments of wishing I weren’t alive so I could be Charlie and not have to endure this pain).
But besides these similarities, there is a BIG difference. Every time I have felt depressed, I have been able to look forward to the future, knowing one day, the depression would lift and the world would be RIGHT again. This has always helped me through the darkness and has always held true in my experience. But now, I can’t have this hope. The world will NEVER be RIGHT again. It will always be WRONG. I will forever be living in a world where my baby died.
I guess, in order to continue my journey, I have to change my hope. If I can’t hope that the world will be RIGHT again, maybe I can believe that in spite of this, one day I will be ALRIGHT.