The sky is falling! ~ Chicken Little
As I sit here typing, I have a lump the size of a medium meteor in my throat. I have just returned from a visit to B. She had been admitted to a mental health care facility, having crashed after a depressive downward spiral. She had been diagnosed years ago with major depression and general anxiety disorder (GAD). She also is obsessive compulsive to some extent. And the zombie I had visited, shows little resemblance to the person I know and love. The psychiatrist had changed her medication. Again. For the umpteenth time.
Like with Chicken Little or Henny Penny, to people with GAD the sky is always falling. When you live with them, you find out what a scary place the world is to them. Most of her sentences start with, “I am scared… ” It does not help telling her almost all her fears will never realize. To her they are real.
My mother would have said, “If the sky falls, we’d all be wearing big blue floppy hats.
I know B’s reaction to this would be, “A big floppy hat makes me feel claustrophobic.”
Caregivers of people with depression, anxiety and a plethora of other mental, emotional and physical disorders, will know what I refer to when I say my tank is running on empty. The Black Dog is shadowing me as well and nipping at my heels.
But when I feel a paw scratching at my leg, begging me to settle down and allow her to nestle between my legs, I know the pooch and I will get through this. We’ll comfort each other.
The sky is not falling.