Mental Health

As someone who writes “memoir-ish” essays every week for this column, I’m used to talking about what I’m learning on our farm and in all aspects of life. Still, there are stories and experiences that are a bit more difficult to share than others. This is one of them. 

Several months ago I began to feel very depressed. I’m naturally pretty even-keeled, with few extreme highs or lows. So when I began to cry every day, my husband Houston and I both knew something was wrong. 

We had been living on the farm for more than a year and a half in an RV, trying to decide if we wanted to build on the land, when I finally realized I desperately needed a change. My angel of a husband offered to do whatever we needed to do in order to provide a living environment where I could thrive. Thus began a seven month journey of figuring out exactly what that meant. 

Around the same time, Houston had a (mild) stroke and my mother fractured her hip. While Mom doesn’t live in our home, I am overseeing her care and needed to be very hands-on for the two and a half months she was in and out of the hospital and rehab following her hip fracture, subsequent dislocation, multiple surgeries and staph infection. The weight of watching her go through that, as Houston was recovering from the stroke, and at the same time realizing I needed us to move our home was almost more than my system could handle. But some key things happened to help break the cycle of depression for me.

A friend knew of my struggles and recommended an online caregiver support group which has been a godsend. Each week I meet with several other women - all of them primary caregivers - and they have accepted me into their group and given such great advice. I’ve even been able to offer helpful words at times myself. 

Then a bit later I wrote a column where I briefly described some of the challenges and another friend reached out to let me know she was available with “open ears and heart.” With some trepidation, I took the bold step of asking her if she knew a therapist that met certain criteria and within about 10 minutes she had a name for me. This therapist has ended up being a great fit. I can’t imagine where I’d be if I hadn’t been honest about how I was doing and what I needed. 

Another thing that has begun to help me feel better is adjusting my hormone replacement therapy. If you’re a woman anywhere near my age, you may know what I’m talking about. As my internist said, hormones are tiny things that can have a huge impact. Within a week of getting on a bit higher dosage I was no longer crying every day. I also began to have more energy. And now, even though I’m still processing and working through some things, I finally feel able to engage with and invest in others again. 

I know there are others out there who are struggling. And if my sharing can help prompt someone to ask for help, it’s well worth the tiny bit of discomfort I experience in putting myself out there. If you’re a friend or relative of someone who’s suffering, please don’t be afraid to step in the gap and advocate for them to get the help they need. It could make all the difference. I’m so incredibly grateful for my husband, family, friends and the professionals who have my back and are helping me along the way.

This piece first appeared in Sherry’s column, Finding Myself in a Small Town, in the August 17, 2024 edition of the Corsicana Daily Sun.