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  • Writer's picturepratsboho

The Depression Era

My story is not complete if I don't write about my sad days.

Up until this point I've skimmed over the bad and the sad. I've spoken about it but mostly from the positive.

But I want to share the other side of the reality today.


All these Pics show a happy cheerful me.

All these Pics are during my turbulent days.

See, I never stopped doing what I had to do to live.

I dressed up, played with the kids, hung out with my husband and other friends, ferried kids around for their activities, took part in events and activities myself, helped in church programmes and leadership, baked for the kid's school events, took my mother in law shopping, sponsored to charity..... Picture Perfect, almost enviable life.

What isn't visible is me drying my tears before dressing up.

Forced smile while I played with the kids.

The fights with husband before and after the hangouts.

The text and phone fights and tears while I waited for kids in the car.

The sweeping issues under the carpet and presenting a front while at church....

Again, this is not an account of who did what wrong and who caused the marriage to break down. This is my side of how I coped. So, I'm not the perpetuator, but neither the victim. We both brought crap to the table.

So we decided that I needed to seek a therapist, simply because being this horrible sad person, was in itself a strain and stress for me, because it went against my fibre of being a happy, cheerful and fun person.

This shadow was haunting me and I was hurting and causing more hurt too.

Doc put me on meds and I was able to manage again.

I was able to handle the actions and consequences.

But I think Depression in my life, wasn't just the presence of sadness. It was the absence of the love we'd lost.

So I was functioning again, fighting lesser, handling better,

But I never went back to the proactive Love and Life. I mean in the sense of being just a Girl with her guy. I went back to functioning but in a role.

There are different kinds of Depression. My kind wasn't just something that got cured when my meds ran their course.

It was rebuilding of the heart and mind. The re-birth of hopes and dreams.

This is a long process of undoing the hurt, unlearning the triggers, controlling the urge to hurt and lash out.

The process of not reading into slights that aren't there.

The process of going through similar situations, but trying to understand that the outcome can and will be different this time around.

Not everyone is out to get you.

Not everyone has a hidden agenda.

You can pray and take anti-depressants if needed.

You are beautiful.

You're curvy and have C-section scars, but that's ok.

You don't cook everyday and have hired a cook, but that doesn't make you a bad homemaker.

You can trust.

It's a Long Process.

So Depression does NOT all look like hell. More often than not it looks like a Ritu Kumar clad woman in a Honda car.

Give people a chance. Make your friend circle a safe space to share. Be the kind of person that keeps other's dignity and secrets while lending a helping hand.

If any of the above facts resonate with you, please remember:

Depression can be healed.

It's a spiritual and a physical problem and has to be treated holistically and with dignity.

Above it all, there is Someone who will hear you. Really see you. Go to God first. And then find a friend to help you in your journey.

Reach out to someone. No matter your age, status, gender, or gravity of your situation.

Whether you're the perpetuator or the victim.

One conversation can start your healing.

Life has so much to offer, don't short-change yourself.

God Loves you. Madly.

P.S : I'm still learning, but my healing is almost whole. So if you need to talk, reach out to me. I have a great circle of like-minded, non-judgey, discrete, prayerful girls and guys. One of us can help.

A shout out to my support systems.

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