My journey, alongside my daughter’s battle with depression, was fraught with uncertainty and fear. I couldn’t ignore the subtle signs of her dwindling weight, a silent testament to the weight of grief from her grandmother’s passing and the relentless grasp of the pandemic. When she mustered the courage to talk to me about her mental health, my initial reaction was a chaotic mix of denial and confusion. Maternal instincts clashed with an overwhelming sense of helplessness, threatening to engulf both my daughter and me.
The doctor’s revelation about my daughter’s suicidal thoughts shook me to the core. My immediate instinct was to remove all sharp objects within her reach, a desperate attempt to ensure her safety. Wrestling with the stigma surrounding mental health in our Philippine community, I found myself struggling to accept my daughter’s diagnosis. However, a heartfelt conversation with her shifted my perspective. She reminded me that this path wasn’t her choosing, but she bravely faced it nonetheless. From that moment, my sole desire was to stand by her side, offering unwavering support and guiding her toward healing.
Drawing strength from the wisdom of friends who had walked similar paths and the guidance of compassionate medical professionals, we formed a sturdy lifeline of support for my daughter. Their collective wisdom and empathy provided hope in the darkness threatening to consume her. Additionally, a generous friend offered her company discount to alleviate the financial strain of medication, a true blessing in our time of need.
Now, as my daughter basks in the light of full remission, my heart swells with pride and gratitude for the unyielding love that sustained us through our darkest days. Placing my deceased father’s rosary by her bedside serves as a poignant reminder that with faith as our anchor and love as our guiding light, we can navigate any storm hand in hand.
Connect with Maricel Abanilla: maricelabanilla@ymail.com
