If Only for the Moment

As I continue to work with my son, helping him through the struggles of depression, I remember being his age so vividly.

I remember so many nights when I didn't want to be at home.  I didn't want to answer the constant questions from my mother or worry about what my Dad might think.  I remember taking my dog for walks - night after night - miles and miles... my poor dog.  I can only imagine that she had no idea why I pushed her so hard to keep moving when she would stop and try to jump up on my legs...

I remember the broken hearts, the disappointments, the fights with my family.  I, too, felt like things in my life would never get better.

My heart breaks into pieces when my son tells me how much he hurts.  I have learned it is no longer just about the break up he has recently endured but there is so much more to his pain.

I am sad.  I feel as though he has inherited this illness from me and that I should be able to somehow make it better, yet I have no idea how.

I consume myself with him.  I need to.  Yet, at the same time, I realize I have other children and they need me too.

I feel so lost.  So sad.  So uncertain.

We talked tonight, my son and I.  I felt like maybe I managed to make some sense in the midst of all of his confusion.  He told me that he knew that I believed in him.  He knows that I love him.  He feels like I am the only one that supports him.

I know that part is not entirely true.

Depression is so difficult.  It is a battle that you have with yourself every day of your life.  I get that.  I suffer too.  It's a matter of learning how to conquer and win that battle all by yourself because no one else can do it for you.

Tonight, I am not sure that anything I told him made sense, but he is here, sleeping on my couch and he is safe - if only for the moment.