Dear dad, my depression is not your fault
This piece contains material related to mental illness and suicidal ideation.
I never got to meet my paternal grandmother. She died before I was born. I always hear that she would have loved me. We had common interests. But there's something else we share that seldom gets talked about: Major Depressive Disorder.
In most cases of major depression, the cause is roughly 50% genetic and 50% related to psychological, physical, or environmental factors. The ultimate peacemaker in the nature versus nurture debate. As with so much of our understanding of mental illness, there is so much we don’t know. While there's no ‘depression gene,’ there is an increased prevalence of certain genes in people with depression. The likelihood of this specific genetic concoction increases when family members have depression. For people living with mental illness, this knowledge leaves us with more questions than answers. Are children and siblings of individuals with mental illness conditioned to be mentally ill? What can I do to prevent this? Is there anything I can do? Of all these burning questions, one haunts mentally ill family members more than any other; Who is to blame?
In all my 21 years, I can recall the number of times I have seen my dad cry on one hand. Once, when his oldest friend slipped into a coma; another, when I wrote him a particularly sentimental Father’s Day card; and finally, when I told my parents that I had wanted to kill myself in the eleventh grade while going through a six-month long Major Depressive episode. I know that this is not a passing remark and I’m no stranger to the emotional reactions that people get when that kind of information is revealed. But this was slightly different from the expected tears. My dad will never admit it, but I can tell he feels a sense of responsibility for my mental illness.
My parents are my best friends. I am beyond grateful for all that they have done and continue to do for me. If I max out the number of therapy sessions covered by insurance, they are the ones that will pay out of pocket so I can continue to go. If one of the mental health organizations I’m involved with are having an event, they are the first people to buy tickets. If I call them in distress, they pick up on the first ring. Beyond supporting me with my mental health, they are simply wonderful parents and friends. If I wasn’t blessed with such amazing parents, I don’t know if I would be at this stage in my mental health journey. They have taught me resilience, compassion, and patience. Even if my mental illness was inherited from my parents, my parents have been the greatest force in mitigating it. To suggest that my parents are responsible for my mental illness is absurd to me — and don’t worry, I’ve spent seven years unpacking my childhood in therapy.
As someone who lives with multiple mental illnesses, the uncertainty around its genetic disposition terrifies me. I like to think I’ve made the best out of the hand I’ve been dealt but I still would not wish this condition on anyone. Dear future children, I don’t blame my parents for my mental illness, and I hope you don’t blame me either.
Resources:
If you're in immediate danger or need urgent medical support, call 911.
For 24/7 crisis counselling, call Talk Suicide Canada: +1 (833) 456-4566.
To learn more about mental health and services available locally to you, visit studentmentalhealthnetwork.ca
Header: Valerie Letts
