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Shauna Broderick's avatar

Jacob, you make so many good and valuable points here and handle this difficult subject with a tenderness, reflective of your intelligent mind, good heart and naturally compassionate nature. I admire your determination to waste and wear out your days in true Doctrine and Covenants Section 123 fashion and wish you the blessings of a passionately cheerful disposition, to both magnify and accompany, your other God given spiritual gifts. ☺️

Darla Gaylor's avatar

As usual, Jacob, you provide a thoughtful, compassionate take on an exceedingly difficult situation.

A low dose SSRI & some intensive therapy (eventually spurred on by my mother's sudden death very early in my 2nd pregnancy) helped lift me out of the dark depression with which I had suffered for 2 years shortly after ceasing to nurse my oldest at 13 months.

I never wanted to harm my toddler, for which I am grateful. I never wanted to harm myself either, though there were many days I could barely get out of bed, wondered what the point of it all was, and despair was the emotion of the day. My joy and typical humor where missing, stolen by something- I didn't know what. There were no happy days.

Once I began to dig out of that hole- about 6 weeks after starting on 20 mg of Celexa, which I finally consented to try about 3 weeks after starting therapy, it took me 20 years to even ponder stopping it for fear of sinking back into the pitch.

My kind therapist was markedly more gentle at helping me to see the clinical depression I had not wanted to admit to for two years than was my first OB with pregnancy #2. She was a new doctor for me, & when I disclosed some of the feelings with which I had been plagued for 2 years, she was ready to whip out the prescription pad & write away- at my first visit no less! Whoa, Nellie!

After my therapist's coaxing, I did seek that prescription from the OB's nurse practitioner (who listened more than the dr), but very shortly thereafter I changed doctors. I needed one that was willing to take more time to know me that that- especially considering how fragile I was on the heels of my mother's death.

Around the same time as my girls were in pre-school, an acquaintance from church who had recently had twins...& if memory serves had a slightly older child, too- was struggling. A LOT. Bi-polar? Post-partum? No idea...but she still comes to mind every so often. I think she & her husband divorced & he took the kids....I really don't know what became of that situation, though I do recall the meds, the behaviors, the distress no one knew what to do with in the early 2000s.

There but for the grace of God, folks. If you've never seen the face of Hell inside your own head, you really should be more circumspect in casting stones. The woman, this mother, this child of God, will see justice on Earth- at least as good as we can mete out with our imperfect understanding. But most importantly, she will receive the justice after death that only God can give- and I have a feeling it will be much more merciful than any one of us could fathom. Aren't we happy that that applies to us all?

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