Recently, I spent an entire day in bed… when my oldest kitty died… Sounds crazy, no?
If I’m honest, I can’t really remember a time in my life when I wasn’t battling depression. Probably since adolescence anyhow. I don’t remember though when the actual word depression came into my vocabulary. It just wasn’t talked about.
Ever.
I do remember talking to someone once, after I was raped in the service, in Japan. It was something like a box I had to check off to get back to work. I was a high functioning depressive … until I wasn’t.
It wasn’t until later in my 40s that things began to unravel for me and set me on a path to get the help I needed. One day, not too long after 9/11 happened, I ran across an old diary that had been kept by my grouchy great Aunt Kate, a busy body that lived in my Aunt Betty’s house. This was her mom and dad’s house, the house where everybody came to die in my family and that I eventually inherited.
Aunt Kate had a room upstairs just above the back door where she kept track of all the comings and goings in the home. She wrote them down in her diary, in her teeny tiny handwriting with almost no margin at all. Every bit of all the mundane minutiae that goes on in a house packed with extended family was there. Blah, blah, blah… it went on and on and on, I could hardly tear myself away from it. Ridiculous!
All of a sudden, in the midst of the mind-numbing pettiness, I learned I had an uncle (my father had a brother!) who I was heard mentioned, ever. I learned this amazing tidbit at the same time I learned that he blew his brains out in the second-floor bathroom, the room next to the bedroom where Aunt Kate filled in her petty little diary day after day.
When I asked my aunt about this she said yes, that was my brother, your Uncle Jim. After finally getting her to talk about him I learned he and his best friend joined up the service together during WWII. He’d seen his buddy decapitated on a flight deck and couldn’t get past the survivor’s guilt. My aunt also told me that he was never ‘strong’ mentally. (Maybe her way of saying he was emotional? Prone to depression?)
I couldn’t believe it! Not just that it happened, but that it was never discussed.
Not long after this, I was having lunch with my Aunt Bet and another extended family member, Mary Beth, when I learned another family secret that sent me reeling again. It was about my grandma, we called her Mimi, who passed away when I was in middle school. I learned that when she couldn’t ‘snap out of it’ after her son’s suicide and her husband’s death from a sudden massive heart attack; she was sent to Delevan to undergo electric shock therapy!! Again, I was just stunned!
Lately, as I think about these things, I wonder; what if I had known? What if my family had been able to talk about such things? Would I have learned to process my feelings in a more open way, rather than stuffing and ignoring until the inevitable crumbling of all my defenses later in life? I guess I’ll never know the answers to those, and many other questions.
October is a tough month for me with many grief milestones. A dear friend describes October as her grief month. I can relate! It’s a good thing to know you are not alone.
As I put the finishing touches on this story, I am keenly aware that tomorrow is the day we get to vote. I say get to, because it is an action, an action I get to take to combat the low-level anxiety we are all existing in right now. Action is necessary to do more than just get through. It takes action to do more than just float along in despair.
The holidays are nearly upon us! A time of gathering and joy for many, but for countless others it can be a very triggering time. A time you are forced to endure the anniversary of a loved one’s passing. A time you must inhabit the same space as your siblings, your parents, the family members of that other political or religious persuasion, the touchy-feely uncle, the abuser nobody believed you about…the list goes on and on.
Today, I know that grieving is imperative for mental health. Today, I can choose to take a mental health day to remember my dead kitty now rather than stuff it away for another time.
You may not be able to do much about your circumstances; but there is a lot you can do to help yourself cope. I’ve been working with Farm Well Wisconsin for a while now, in fact, I learned that storytelling is a great way to learn to talk about the things that generally aren’t discussed in public (or even within our families). It’s a great way to learn we are not alone, and our suffering is not unique to us. You can find out more about them and their many other resources on their website https://farmwellwi.org/
As we head into this holiday season, be kind. Recognize that you may not know the whole story about even those closest to you. Be kind to yourself and do what you need to do to be your best self. Know that whatever your situation is; you are not alone, you are enough, you are loved, and you can do this! I love you and I am proud of you; no matter where you are in your mental health journey.
24/7 Wisconsin Farmer Wellness Hotline 888-901-2558
National Suicide Prevention Hotline – Call or text 988
Veteran Crisis Line – Dial 988 and press 1 or text 838255 to connect with a VA Responder
Betty Anderson and her husband, Dane, are the current stewards at The Old Smith Place outside Brodhead. They have been Farmers Union members since 2016 and Betty is an alumni of the National Farmers Unions Beginning Farmer Institute. Betty is a Navy veteran and a trauma survivor. She is passionate about normalizing discussions surrounding mental health. She is also her tiny town’s treasurer and holds down an off-farm job in the housing industry whose focus is providing education in financial literacy & promoting home-ownership as a vehicle to stabilizing some of Beloit’s tougher neighborhoods.