As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, my dad suffers from depression. He finally talked to his doctor about it a few months ago, and sure enough, he was glad he did. I sometimes get the impression, though, that he thinks everything is all better, like going to the doctor was a cure-all and the depression has been erased by a magic pill.

I can understand the elation of finding relief from depression that has been plaguing you all of your life. It’s a wonderful feeling to finally get your emotions under some measure of control. You feel happier and healthier, and you’re less stressed out. You finally know what has been causing the mood swings, the anger and sadness. It’s easy to forget that the depression is still there, that it’s only in remission.

As pleased as my father is with the results he’s had, I think that perhaps he’s getting too far ahead of himself. It’s not that I want him to be depressed; it’s that I don’t think he’s dealing with things in a way that’s going to benefit him in the long run. One of his friends, a man very close to his age, recently died. Having a friend die and not being able to go to his funeral because you were sick from chemo treatments is hard on anyone.

I find myself wondering… did he get the proper closure? Has he really dealt with it, or has he spirited away his emotions to the back of his mind to take root and come back to haunt him later?

I just know that I’ve stuffed down my emotions before without realizing it, and boy, did it come back to haunt me. My dad’s first cancer diagnosis happened days after a boy from our church was killed in Afghanistan. This kid was only one day younger than me. A few months after that, my papaw (southern for “grandpa”) died of a massive heart attack the day I was finally going to call him to see how he was. I felt an incredible sense of guilt because he’d been taking radiation treatments for prostate cancer, and I hadn’t called him once during that time. He’d been going through hell, and I hadn’t. called him. ONCE.

Everything just went numb, and then my emotions exploded. I ended up back in therapy for a good year.

I don’t want this to happen to my dad. I wish with all my heart that I could believe he’s all better, but I know from personal experience that these things don’t just go away. I think he wants to believe that it’s all gone, and that is a dangerous mindset to have. You can’t treat mental illness like a common cold. There’s no antibiotic that’s going to kill the virus and make you all better. Mental illness is like a cancer. Through treatment, it can be put into remission with no recurrences. But unlike cancer, you can’t simply cut it out of the body.

I do ask that anyone from my church reading this keeps this quiet. Please don’t mention it to my dad; simply pray for him, that either complete healing of his depression has occurred, or that he will be able to properly deal with his emotions, including grief, in a healthy way. I ask for my other readers’ prayers as well, or if you aren’t a person of faith, your well wishes.

This post isn’t meant to scare anyone into thinking they haven’t gotten better. It’s simply meant to caution those who are in the beginning stages of dealing with their mental illness. Take time to heal. Don’t hasten the process because you’re afraid of being a burden to others, or because you think you’re not moving along fast enough. Move at your own pace. Take all the time you need, because no time is wasted when you’re taking time for yourself.