KEVIN

​

I am a 64 year old divorced/divorced/re-married father of 3, all from my second marriage. We were a fairly typical suburban So.Cal. family started in the 1990s; youth sports, 2 incomes, neighborhood block parties, school plays and talent shows, etc., etc., etc. My oldest daughter, we'll call her Lizzie, was soooo normal. She was a very good student, well liked by the 20 odd neighborhood kids, involved in team sports and seemingly happy, healthy and well adjusted. Honestly, other than a stubborn streak that was more cute than bothersome, she was a dream child. I couldn't have asked for a better kid to raise.

 

Fast forward to her high school years when her mother and I started experiencing marital problems that eventually led to divorce. While some red flags had started to surface in Lizzie's early adolescence, most notably the inability to develop and keep friendships with peers, she took the news of the divorce worse than my other 2 kids. However, as tough minded and resilient as ever, she fought through that heartbreak and continued her excellence at school. She leapt into the work place with great enthusiasm as well, holding down multiple jobs along with school seemingly without effort.

 

Fast forward again to Lizzie's early twenties, and an unforeseen and unspoken coping with anxiety and depression finally got the best of her. She delved into therapy with the same gusto she approached all of her endeavors and at this point in her life, 10 years later, is functioning fairly well with both issues. Here's where the story gets sideways; in those early twenties she admitted to me she had been diagnosed with clinical depression and was on medication to manage it. Wait, what? My tough little now grown up girl who had always faced life's challenges with spirit and hope if not confidence was clinically depressed? I was blindsided and shocked by this admission. I consider myself to be a very involved parent but how could I not know? Here's the point to this story; depression is so hard to recognize in another person it can easily be overlooked, or misunderstood as "teenage moodiness", "hormones" or "growing pains". My poor Lizzie suffered in silence for years. Like most in this condition, she had suicidal thoughts. This terrifies me. If she had done that, I would have been dumbfounded as to why.

 

In summation, I offer this cautionary tale to any parent out there...you just don't know what your kid is going through. As difficult as it can be, communication is so important. If you can get your kid to open up great. If not, be selfless enough to get them the help they need. I was lucky with Lizzie, she was strong enough to pull herself, with professional help, out of the pit of despair she had fallen into. All to often that is not the case. Now more than ever, we need to listen and lift up our children as best we can.