Putting the "Illness" Back in Mental Illness

I consider my communication with my kids to be fairly open. I mean, I don't delude myself into thinking that they tell me everything...but I think our dialogue is pretty free. I often joke that my junior in high school might actually be a sophomore because I rarely check her grades.

"I don't have to," I'll joke with friends. "She'll walk in the door, cursing that she screwed up on a test. My kids tattle on themselves."

Communication isn't just something that I encourage only between us; I'll often tell them that if they don't feel comfortable talking to me that's okay - as long as they have someone to talk to. I'm open about the fact that I've been to counseling and they've groaned through enough podcasts with me to know that I'm constantly searching for inner peace. When their father died years ago, I immediately put them in group therapy...probably before they even really needed it.

The bottom line is: Communication is very important in our family.

That's why it's never really occurred to me that I should have a conversation about depression. I've always felt like they should just know if they're not feeling good and I'm maybe a little too confident that they'll come to me if something feels off.

The problem is that I'm not really sure that kids these days actually know what depression is - especially during the teenage years when they're surrounded by hundreds of kids who are all in a big hormonal flux. There's the usual drama during the day (many times exacerbated by social media) and it can be hard to determine whether a friend is truly depressed, just going through a hard time, or has a flare for the dramatic.

As open as I think we are with each other, I had what Oprah would classify as an "ah ha" moment about teens and depression recently. I was watching The TODAY Show as I was making breakfast for the kids when a story came on about pediatricians being more involved in the diagnosis of depression in teens.

With the new guidelines, pediatricians are being asked to more carefully screen their patients ages 12 and over during their annual checkups. It's the first update to the guidelines in a decade and comes amid a disturbing rise in suicide rates among adolescents,especially teen girls.

Ah HA!

I don't know why it took that story for me to get to this point, but I realized that even though we have what I would like to think of as a close-knit family, I haven't really been talking to my kids the right way about depression.

I haven't been talking to them about the disease that it is. 

That it can be hereditary. 

That, with our family history, it's something they should watch out for.

That night I briefly spoke to them about it. I didn't want to go into so much detail that they would think depression was inevitable for them - but I wanted to start the conversation and remove any shame they might have, should they start feeling like something wasn't right.

"Just as I would talk to you about a history of heart disease or cancer in our family, we need to talk about the history of depression," I said. "It's no different. I believe that your father had moments of depression that, unfortunately, went undiagnosed, and that other family members have struggled with it, too."

For my own history, my kids have had a ringside seat for my own issues with anxiety during the last few years - something that I have been honest with them about and feel that I've actually had since childhood. They watched as I tried to work through it organically - meditation, yoga, increased self-care - and then ultimately had to find help with medication.

"Doctors often say that anxiety and depression go hand-in-hand," I told them. "And I don't feel depressed, but I want you to be aware of that."

So, why did I feel like this was such a pivotal moment for us?

Because at the end of the conversation I was able to say to them, "Depression is the same as getting strep throat. If you're running a fever or you're truly sick, you wouldn't think twice about coming to me so that we could make a doctor's appointment. This is the same thing. The bottom line is that if you don't feel good, come tell me so that we can do what needs to be done to feel better."

I'm hoping that this is the start of even more open communication about our family history and a change in the way we view depression. While I DO think that the generation we're raising is more accepting of mental illness, I think that more emphasis needs to be put on the word ILLNESS and that sometimes these things can't be helped - the problem could be chemical and beyond their control. 

It's time to put the "illness" back in mental illness.