My Family

I've told my life story so many times throughout the past six years; It's like second nature to me. I've been diagnosed with depression for about the same length of time. It was more recent, however, that I was diagnosed with "social anxiety." Let's start from the beginning, though.

I had a horribly rough time in sixth grade, and was taken out of public school and put into a day program. This was my "introduction to therapy," so to speak. I was put on medication and switched to Catholic school. This proved to be just as difficult, considering I was still an outcast. Only my location had changed.

It was around this time (when I was 13) that my father suffered a nervous breakdown and was diagnosed with schizophrenia. It's changed him immensely. He went from being a fairly talkative and active man to being in a state where he was emotionally detached from virtually everything. This included the family. My mother and sister were affected greatly, as was I. It's still a struggle, and probably always will be, but in my mind, I protect and defend him. It's hard to acknowledge a loved one's emotional absence, partially out of loyalty. I tell myself that he IS making an effort, and now I believe it, but that doesn't make the past or his illness any easier to swallow.

The rest of my family has their own emotional difficulties to attend to. My mother and sister have both been diagnosed with depression as well. My sister and I talk all the time, and one thing that comes up is our depression, and how life experiences have changed our viewpoints. We can be extremely negative and cynical at times, but in our minds, we're being "realists." I see my mom being overwhelmed by certain events, because of depression, and it can be discouraging and upsetting. It can also be scary, considering "family" has always been very important to me, as it is my "safety place." I know that no matter what I go through, my family will always be by my side. It's a great threat for me to imagine my only safety net falling apart, in a world where security can't be promised.

As much as I love my family, as they love me, we know that we feed into one another's illnesses. It is in NO WAY intentional, it's more of inevitability. We can relate to each other on levels that no one else can, which can be very beautiful. On the other hand, it's quite sad that we have all bonded over one thing: suffering.

Don't get me wrong - I am not placing blame at all. It's a fact that mental illness cannot be chosen. I love my family with all my heart, and wouldn't trade them for anything in the world. I just wish we were like other families, in a sense. I don't mean normal because who can honestly judge what is normal and what isn't? What I want is impossible to achieve, but I wish no one in my house was plagued by mental illness. Every family has their secrets, and I guess that these are mine, but secrets come with shame. I feel only sadness, not shame.

by Katie, age 17