Maame(80)

Alex puts a soft hand on mine. “Were you depressed?”

I wipe at an imaginary stain on my jeans when my pulse starts hissing. “No, no. Depression is … it’s so big, and I didn’t have a reason, you know? A reason that stands out. I wasn’t stressed or overworked or under pressure like Katherine. That was depression.”

“Maddie,” he says softly, “you were stuck in a microaggressive, passive-aggressive, emotionally trying job, and then were unceremoniously fired. There’s a reason.”

The woman screams with joy at having bowled a strike.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. People go through worse every day.”

“Comparison is no friend of mental health,” Alex says. He leans forward so I can spot the lighter specks in his eyes. “What you go through and how it affects you is just as valid as someone dealing with their own situation. What did your parents say when you told them? They sound the supportive type.”

I blink and remember which Maddie I’m supposed to be right now.

Losing track already?

I rest my palms flat on either side of my hips, feeling them prickle with sweat. I focus my attention on watching my legs swing back and forth. “I didn’t tell them,” I say. “I didn’t want them to worry.”

“Maddie.”

“I know! I know, but it’s okay.” Not to mention, it’s now impossible to tell half of your parents because one of them is dead, and when you told the other, her response was: pray harder. “Really,” I add, “I’m so much better now.”

You’re the worst you’ve ever been.

“Since leaving the theater job?”

Well, OTP could be the new CGT—it’s TBC: to be confirmed.

I look at Alex and try to brighten my face with a smile. “Exactly!”

I’ve little doubt in my mind that there’s some kind of ethical code I’m breaking by withholding a life-altering truth such as a death in my family. But there are only three responses someone you’ve just started dating can give to “My father died last month.”

Oh, Maddie, my condolences/sorry for your loss. Tell me about it/him. How did it happen? Why? How are you doing?—i.e., questions I don’t want to give a practical stranger the answers to.

Not even three weeks ago? Should you be out? Should you be dating? Do you want me to take you home?—i.e., questions which in turn will make me feel like shit, a terrible daughter and a rotten, irremovable stain upon humanity’s cloth.

Oh … wow. That’s heavy. (Insert awkward silence, unsubtle glances toward the door and fidgeting here.)



Lies it is.

Google: Symptoms of depression

Unhappiness

Hopelessness

Crying

Anxiety

Exhaustion yet difficulty sleeping

Suicidal thoughts

Appetite changes

Most people can feel all of the above when going through a hard time or a major life change and these feelings tend to improve once the storm has passed rather than being signs of depression.

See? I knew it. There’s no greater life change or hard time than your dad dying as soon as you leave him. The panic attacks, insomnia, and loss of appetite didn’t start until after he passed away.

But everything else occurred before.

That’s only because I was unhappy at work—another hard time.

Comments:

Dinah: It’s scary how many of these symptoms I’ve been displaying lately.

Joel: This wasn’t helpful. Everyone feels all of these things some time or other.

Frances: I have to say these symptoms are all very vague and the last note misleading and detrimental. To attribute the symptoms of depression solely to “hard times” may have you feeling like you should wait it out instead of seeking professional help. What if you’re going through a series of “hard times”? You’ll be waiting for the storm to pass until you’re dead. Depression varies from person to person. For example, I had extreme mood swings, which isn’t mentioned above and is rarely talked about regarding depression. I was on cloud nine one day and being tormented in hell the next, and things did not change until I got help. So you need to ask yourself (and answer truthfully): do you think you’re depressed? The answer is obviously yes, otherwise you wouldn’t be reading this page. Do yourself a favor and seek help.





Chapter Thirty-three


On Wednesday, I join Penny in her office. She looks at me and smiles. She has on the same blue eye shadow she wore during my interview. Her blond hair is even shorter now and it sticks up in corners she maybe can’t see.

“Maddie,” she says. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but we have a counselor who comes into the building twice a month. I’d like you to see her, just to keep on top of things.”

I frown. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Not at all,” she says. “You’re flying through your admin; I’ve just noticed you’ve been arriving early and staying late since your return. Allan in Facilities said he saw you leave at 9:30 Monday night. You’re very quiet in the office and sometimes, well, morose may be a little too far, but you’re certainly not yourself—understandably. You did seem perkier this morning, but I imagine your feelings during a time like this alternate in waves.”