“It was a little better,” Blake replies.
I don’t think I’ve heard those words out of Blake in two years. Maybe more. The final year of high school was a struggle to the finish. The summer was a descent into days spent with my newly graduated young adult sleeping all day (sometimes until 10 p.m.) and awake all night. He was angry with us, but couldn’t show it most of the time. We had taken college from him because he hadn’t been ready to leave home and now life seemed useless to him. Days were nothing but drudgery – nothing to look forward to.
Six months ago, Blake, struggling with both Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and Major Depression, refused to attend therapy. When his father and I went alone and started acting more like parents, setting limits and applying consequences that made little sense to him, it got his attention. He came to therapy grudgingly, but determined to get us off his back, and to take back some control.
Little by little, he started to be awake more of each day – most days (there are still setbacks, for sure). He started to create a schedule for himself. For weeks and weeks he fought the schedule, but then it started to get a little exciting. This past week, he completed a short story and it actually felt good. It’s a horror story and, truth be told, it’s compelling and terrifying (yes, he actually let me and the hubby read it).
Dealing With Depression
When we went to therapy one week ago, Blake shared with our therapist about his depression loop.
“I feel lousy and then I realize that it’s stupid to feel depressed about what I feel depressed about. So, I get upset with myself for being depressed…”
“And then you keep going on a downward spiral,” the therapist noted.
“Yes,” Blake had answered. “I just feel worse and worse.
“This is actually great that you recognize the process,” the therapist told him, “because once you recognize it, you can change it.”
“How?” Blake had actually been intrigued.
“Once you know the pattern, you can catch yourself. You can tell yourself that this is your depression pattern, and then you can remind yourself that you don’t have to make yourself feel worse for what you are depressed about. You can remind yourself that you have depression and that this is what it does, but you don’t have to follow it and make yourself feel worse. You can begin to change direction.”
Blake had considered this. He actually invoked it in the week following that session. And that week, he wrote more than ever.
“It was a little better.”
The words resonate in my brain.
“A little better is a nice place to be,” the therapist acknowledges.
“Yes, I guess it is,” Blake agrees. Then, amazingly, he goes on to actually talk with the therapist for the entire hour. I watch them interact as they discuss plans for the week, specific ways the hubby and I are a pain as parents, and Blake’s love of video games. I am amazed as I watch my son engage.
Spontaneously, Blake and the therapist get up from their chairs and head to the therapist’s computer to watch an animation the therapist wants to show Blake. I stay behind for a minute or two and observe. I feel my eyes burn and well up with tears. I haven’t seen this in so long and it feels so good to see glimmers of happy on Blake’s face. And then I stand up to join them.