Gillian Marchenko

Why I tell my kids about my depression

I guess the short answer is: they already know about it anyway.

I have four girls. I have depression. One of my most serious episodes occurred at the end of 2011 into 2012. At some point during that time, I basically gave up on life. It’s hard to admit as a mom, and also as a Christian, but I stopped functioning. I found myself in and out of bed, sometimes up to a week at a time, for months. Unless there was something I absolutely had to do, I was locked away in my room, sleeping or watching television.

Before 2012, my major depressive episodes occurred mostly around the birth of my kids. So the girls were younger. They didn’t notice as much, And I liked it that way.

But two years ago, my children were 11, 10, 6, and 5. The older girls, obviously, knew something was up with mom. All of a sudden I wasn’t making their lunches, picking them up from school, participating in family prayers, washing their clothes, or kissing them goodnight at bedtime. Their mother was no longer home, although I spent the majority of my life those months in our house.

Since then, as I am able, my goal has been health. I call it ‘working the system.’ There are several things I do to help me stay in the safe zone and away from the waves of depression that still threaten (and sometimes succeed) to knock me down on a daily basis.  I pray. I read scripture. I see a cognitive behavioral therapist, I take anti-depressants, I am trying to open up more to friends and family, and recently I started to use essential oils to combat moods.

I’m not healed. But I am healing.

But depression lingers as a family illness.

It not only affects me. It also affects my husband and my kids. One of my daughters is often angry that she has a mom who fights depression. Another doesn’t talk about it much, but spends a lot more time alone in her room. The little girls show their emotions, too. One wants to always be in my face, like if we aren’t touching, I’ll disappear. The other tends to ignore me after a bout of depression. I have to work to get back into her good graces.

So here is some ground work our family has set into place regarding my depression:

1. Our children are told when I am struggling.

Trust me, they can tell when I am having a bad day. But still, we say it out loud (and if I can’t verbalize it, my husband does it for me). I am a firm believer in words. If the spirit in our home is downtrodden and we don’t talk about it, then it becomes a bigger deal and scarier to our children. If we talk about it, depression no longer is the elephant in the room. By naming it and talking about it (according to the girls’ ages and level of understanding), it isn’t me against my family, but us together moving towards health. It also teaches my kids to talk about their struggles, too.

2. They are protected from it too, though. 

But we don’t tell them everything. Our job as parents is to protect them. There’s no need to go into the depth of my despair. They are not my confidants or my counselors. I’m the adult. I’m the mom. They should get to be the kids.

3. When I’m not actively struggling with depression, my children can tell me how they are feeling.

One of my daughters is a verbal processor. She needs to talk about things to get them out of her system. So our rule is that she can say anything she wants to me about my depression when I am well enough to hear it. “I hate that you have depression! You don’t do enough as a mom! Why can’t you just get over it?” I let her tell me what she is thinking, and pray that I have the wherewithal to stand it, and also to grow from it. I commiserate with her. “I’m sorry that my illness is so hard for you. It isn’t fair. I am trying to get better.” I don’t know if this is right or wrong, but I know she feels a lot better being heard. Her mom cares. That’s huge to her.

4. Life goes on when mom is struggling.

Yes, everyone has to pitch in more when I am not doing well. But generally, we want our kids to know that life goes on. My husband and I try to get them to all their school and social obligations. There’s still laughter in the house, and prayer. Sergei makes a point to spend more time with them if I’m out of commission. I am trying to connect more with all of them as I am able. The kids are learning (and re-learning, and re-learning) that life isn’t perfect. People get sick. People struggle. But life continues.

5. And God is still good.

We are believers in Jesus. I want my kids to see that in the midst of trials, God is still good, and he is still in control. It is work, I’m not going to lie, but I try to thank God for what he is teaching me through my depression… in the presence of my children. I want them to see that I trust God. And that they can trust him too.

6. Having a plan regarding my kids helps me.

Guilt and catastrophic thinking are two major components of my depression. “They hate me. I’m the worst mom in the world.” unfortunately are thoughts I combat often. Knowing that we have a structure in line for our kids helps. It helps me to feel like a better mom because I am doing what I can, well, to be a better mom.

If you struggle with depression or another mental illness, what are some things you are doing in regards to family health? I could use more ideas!