Love Yourself – It’s Important

The human psyche is a delicate matter. I took psychology classes from an expert professor. One story she used to tell was about being on a train with a young woman and her baby. The woman had just said goodbye to her husband. He was leaving to rejoin armed forces overseas. She boarded the train clutching her baby and crying. Aboard the train, the baby began to cry also. Eventually, this annoyance caused the passengers to turn and glare at her. Finally, my professor got up and approached the young mother. She introduced herself and asked if she might hold the baby. The distraught mother handed her the child, who ceased crying and snuggled against her shoulder. The mother was grateful. The lesson to be learned was obvious. The baby absorbed the mother’s despair and sorrow. Not knowing how to process it, the infant simply defended itself by crying.

The world we live in doesn’t lend itself to “tea and sympathy.” We are bombarded and overwhelmed with twists, turns, and media on a daily basis. Our time on earth can leave us feeling helpless and segmented. Our field of effectual behavior can seem impossibly small. Depression doesn’t follow rules. However, it can follow amazing success, seemingly perfect lives, life changes, gains, and losses. Depression can be an all too common bedfellow.

My first experience with suicide was at a tender age. I grew up in a northeast Portland neighborhood. Everybody knew everybody else. The grown ups talked and the kids played. Then, one day, the father of the family across the street committed suicide, creating a shock that resonated among all of us for months. No one knew why, but we all knew how. Since we cared, the family was attended to until they simply moved on.

My next experience with suicide came during my senior year in college. Once again it involved a neighborhood family. I was home for Thanksgiving. One of my friends committed suicide. The family lived down the hill from us. My friend went to Oregon State with me. She was popular and smart. I had heard she had let her studies slide and her grades had become an issue with her mother. I sat at our kitchen table with my mom and wept. I could only imagine the awful feelings that seemed to her unsurmountable. I remembered times when our families had been together. Her mom was a librarian, and she and I shared a love of books and certain authors. I always felt a little uncomfortable because of the attention I received that her daughter did not.

Eventually, I was to know exactly what depression could do, and the fear it was capable of instilling. On my 40th birthday, I packed lunches, saw husband and children off, and stood before my bathroom mirror wondering who I was. We had moved for the seventh time. All of a sudden I was scared. I dressed quickly and grabbed the phone book. I called a psychiatrist. And, it was the turning point. I got a part-time job and began to restore my faith in myself.

So, this is what you should take away from this column: acknowledge your fears, and deal with them straightaway. Give yourself credit for the good you do; and cut yourself slack when things don’t work out. Remember that we all make mistakes and we don’t always deal with them in “acceptable” ways. The thing is to try, and to be aware. Know when you are overwhelmed and allow yourself breathing room. Reach out if you need help. Dealing with your fears and apprehensions is not easy – but you can do it. Just remember the people who love and need you – and I mean that – you have their trust and that is both real and no small thing. Also, those same people in your life cannot imagine losing you and will stand by you given the chance – so give it.

Try always to set goals that are reasonable. Most important, remember, the world is a better place with you in it! You are the best medicine.

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