Fighting the blues meant paying less attention to my girls. I also knew I'd be no help to them if depression pulled me under. So I did whatever was in my power to fight it. I forced myself to pray, exercise, eat well, sleep enough and keep social.
Back at home a new school year began. When report cards came out, I was shocked. "Jessica! Your grades dropped!" Jessica turned the TV on and sat down in front of it. "So." I pushed on. "So...you need to study more." Jessica looked at me. "I don't want to." I flipped the TV off. "You have chores to do, also!"
"You can't make me do anything!" Jessica stormed out to the garage, hopped on her bike and sped down the road. I stood there, speechless. She's nine years old and running away. She hates her life. She returned 20 minutes later. After dinner, she was restricted to her room. She fell asleep early, without a fight.
Before I went to bed, I peeked in her room. She had put a picture of her daddy next to her bed. So that's what this is about! Why didn't I see it? She's still hurting and is depressed. I realized that my daughter had lived through not only the loss of her father, but also from the loss of love from her mother.
Finally out of my depression, I had to help my daughter out of hers and let her know that life wasn't that bad and I was here to love her!