My Walk with Depression 

by Darlane Kroening 

Let me introduce myself in the words of a neuro- psychologist who four years ago gave me a battery of tests to measure my memory and learning skills.

• 56-year old white female
• pleasant and fully cooperative
• appears to enjoy the challenge of testing
• laughs easily
• fluent

The neuro-psychologist was seeking to determine if my memory lapses and anxiety were the result of early-onset dementia.  They were not. 

I have been treated for depression for over six years, a relatively short time compared to many people I know.  As I look back over sixty years, I now recognize the periodic episodes of sadness and melancholy that have been part of my life.

Can you laugh while being clinically depressed?  Certainly!  I was very good at hiding my depression from almost everyone.  I greeted people with smiles and sometimes witty responses.  This took an enormous amount of energy to pull off.  I was often exhausted in the evenings.

I worked at Macalester College in the Learning Center where I was an academic science counselor.  I was not a member of the faculty but one of the staff members who teach courses as part of their positions.  The students who knew me well were very understanding when I occasionally forgot something.  New students were puzzled by my memory lapses, as were some faculty members.  I mention my work because it is so much a part of who I am.  Losing my ability to work was devastating to me.

After I returned to work in 2003, I gave a seminar at Macalester College’s Chemistry Department on my depression.  Since then I have spoken to other groups as well.  My comments are only one person’s journey through several bouts of depression.  All ideas not ascribed to professionals are my attempts to make sense of my thoughts.

How do you know when you are clinically depressed?  If you have watched some of the commercials on television portraying depressed people, you can get a reasonable idea.  Unfortunately many, if not all, of the medications take at least several weeks to show improvement.  Therefore, the “After” scenes in the commercials probably do not occur until several weeks later.

The fact that the medicines help leads me to conclude that a chemical imbalance does occur.  However, the use of medicines alone seldom removes the effects of depression for long.  I believe that the imbalance leads the brain to change how it interprets occurrences both present and past.  Whatever has happened to you is now seen in a much more negative manner. 

In particular, I want to tell you about my experiences with my counselor.  How does one select a counselor?  I knew I wanted a Christian woman.  I felt that a Christian counselor would understand how profoundly the depression affected my faith.  I wanted a woman because I thought it best to have a counselor of the same gender to lessen the difficulty of sharing intimate information with a stranger.

My friends had told me that finding a “counselor that clicked” was difficult.  If after a few sessions you have not developed a good relationship with your counselor, feel free to look for a new one.  Sometimes several changes will be required.

This did not occur in my case.  Let me start at the beginning.  I had been having difficulties doing all the things that I regularly did.  I was at the home of a Christian friend to work on a service project.  While working on the project in her kitchen, I broke down and told her about my difficulties and how I felt.  I can remember well when Ginny Olson told me to “go see a doctor, eat good things and get exercise.” 

That afternoon I scheduled an appointment with the general practitioner whom I had been seeing for over twenty years.  He gave me a test for depression.  When the results showed that depression could be present, he prescribed Paxil.  He said he would not renew the prescription unless I had been to a psychologist.  He mentioned that under my medical insurance plan I did not need a referral from him.  When I asked him for a suggestion, he said I could find a list in the information that my insurance company furnishes.

The list of counselors was very long.  I looked for counselors that were close to my home.  That did not reduce the list by much.  How was I going to pick?  As I read down the list I saw a counselor with the first name of Darlene.  My first name is Darlane.  Yes, I know this method is not scientific, but I was in no shape to reason out a good selection.  I called the number and was very lucky to be able to see her that afternoon.  I scheduled the appointment.  When I hung up I second-guessed my decision: Maybe this counselor wasn’t very good since people were canceling appointments with her. 

When I sat down in her office I was not sure how to proceed.  Her receptionist had given me a long form to fill out.  I could not write much down on the form.  The counselor said that was okay.  When I told her that I was a Lutheran, she told me she was Lutheran, too.  Praise God.  She has helped me tremendously.

How does the therapy work?  My psychologist helps me to see how past experiences are being used by my depressed mind to inflict much pain and suffering.  She is able to listen and reinterpret not only present experiences but also past experiences from a more healthy perspective.  She then helps me see why I have misinterpreted past experiences.  The memory of the experience is still there, but the pain is diminished.

How do you know when to follow your therapist’s advice?  For the most part always follow your therapist’s advice.  As I tell my husband, Roy, we’re paying the therapist big bucks, so I should act on her advice.

What was the hardest thing I had to do on the advice of my therapist?  I had been very successful at hiding my melancholy and sadness from my husband Roy.  In fact, I hid it so well he did not have a clue that I was depressed.  Only a few of my friends knew. 

The first day at the therapist’s office Darlene told me I had to tell Roy how I really felt, because I was expending too much energy keeping the truth from him.  I told her I was afraid he would walk. 

She said she doubted that would happen.  I couldn’t believe that she could know that from our short time – thirty minutes – together.  She said if he walked it was better to know that now instead of later.  That was easy for her to say! 

That night I told Roy about the session with Darlene.  I then told him just how rotten I felt.  He listened closely.  Then he asked me why I hadn’t told him earlier.  I was honest. “I was afraid you would walk.”

He replied, “If I was going to walk, I would have done it a long time ago.”  Then he assured his weeping wife, “Let’s face this together, just as we’ve faced all the other challenges in our thirty years of marriage.”

Roy lifted my chin and looked at me with disappointed eyes, disappointed because I had not shared my experiences of depression with him.  Then came the smile I have loved since our first date. 

Thank you, Lord, for giving me a husband who loves me – warts and all.