Every year this date rolls around and I pretty much only have one thing on my mind all day, my sister.  It’s Pam’s birthday. It has now been three and a half years, since we lost Pam to depression and each year the distance seems to grow exponentially. For me this year is huge as I move on to another stage in my life, getting married in June.  In the couple years following the end of her battle, I was asked if I had siblings and the question pained me.  Once I am married, people won’t ask if I have siblings, but will want to know if I have children and how many.  It is all just conversation.  Recently, I have had people even assume I was an only child.  I don’t fault anyone for these assumptions and in my awkwardness, I normally don’t correct them.

This week, at my gym an older woman passed.  She was older, but actually only in her mid-fifties.  She swam many of the same sessions I did, just down a couple lanes.  She was very nice and walked many of the same trails that I run, often waving hello.   Little did I know, she too was battling some form of depression.  Now her passing is sad, but it does anger me that people whisper things about her suicide.  They talk of her likely depression in a very distant tone.  It brings me back to my anger with my own dealing with Pam’s battle with depression.  If depression were not thought of as something you can cure, by “just sucking it up,” then maybe those with the disease could get the proper treatment.

This is my tiny little attempt to bring out some thought on depression.  It is a disease that is caused by altered chemicals in the brain.  One can’t just “suck it up.”  Therefore, if you know someone who has the disease, don’t whisper, give them a hug and let them know you are there.  They may not take your help, but just maybe they will have a little more will to fight their battle.

Happy Birthday, Pam!  We still miss you.