Monday, April 15, 2019

My Depression Essay Example for Free

My Depression EssayGrowing up in a small town wasnt always easy for me. I felt that I was forever and a day hiding and denying the person that I was and the life that I lived. I was forced to be someone that I rightfully wasnt due to the fact that I had a family secret that I was withholding in aver to protect the well- sack outn, family name, Hutcherson. In highschool, no one but family members and close friends knew that I lived with an alcoholic aim. As a child I was always taught to keep our family life secret and never let people know the struggles that our family faced. People always thought that I had the best of every affaire because of the material possessions I accumulated from my dad. They assumed that because our family had money, we were fuss free and oh, how wrong they were It was until my senior year at Halls High School that I kept spark advance people on to believe a lie. I finally got tired of feeling as though I was two different people with two differe nt lives.After attending counseling for several(prenominal) months, because of the depression that had taken a tole on me, my psychiatrist helped me to realize that it wasnt my fault that my father has this addiction. I short figured out that there was no reason to be ashamed or embarrassed for things that I had no control over. If people equald me, they should like me for the real me, not who I had been pretending to be. I learned to deal with my fathers alcohol problem by acknowledging the stops of the sorrow process. Dr. Bell taught me that in order to progress to peace with the hardships in my life, I had to overcome each of the five processes denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.Denial was the first, and probably the hardest stage of the grieving process. It seemed as if denial overwelhmed my entire life, even from childhood. It was hard, at times, to admit that living with an alcoholic parent was a part of my life. I didnt want to accept the fact that thi s was a definite part of who I really was. I was ashamed and humiliated. I immortalize being embarrassed to tell Dr. Bell the whole true statement. I also felt like by doing so, I was dishonoring my family and degrading my father. However, after I came to terms with the truth that I had been denying for so long, I felt like a ton of bricks were lifted from me.The second stage of the grieving process is anger. I can remember being so mad at pop music for putting our family through this. there were times that I hated him and wished that something bad would happen to him, just so I could go back to the life I was accustomed to living, that of lies. I blamed my mother for staying with him and freehand us children no choice as to what we wanted. I envied her just about as much as I envied him. I know now, that even though she wasnt happy, she was doing what she felt she had to do, and that was support him 100%. I no longer look at this situation as something to be angry at. I see my father now, as a sick man and not one that intentionally has this horrible addiction to attenuate the ones he loves.There were times that I remember bargaining with God, asking him to please take this away. I would pray at night that if he would just heal my father, I would be willing to do whatever it took to show appreciation. I would make deals with my father, Dad, if you dont drink for two weeks, I will mow the lawn for free. It was things like this that would sometimes be the only thing that gave me hope. At times, the things that I would say to my father would work, only because of the quilt that he felt, but it wouldnt be long and he would be back in the same sauceboat he had been in for many years drinking, uncontrolably.The forth stage is depression. I have to say that this is the hardest thing I have ever faced (and still facing) in my life. Looking back now, I remember the thing that depressed me the most was thinking that things were getting better and then being dis appointed again. There were times that Dad would stop drinking, sometimes weeks at a time. Though I always knew in my heart that it wasnt going to last long, I still had hope that that particular time could be different.

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