I had major depressive disorder as a teenager, as did most of my siblings. My mother had to raise us alone, and from many of my discussions with her I'm sure it was a real festival of fun trying to keep her children physically and mentally healthy, away from sharp objects or third-story windows. Somehow, a combination of medication, counseling, faith, growing out of teen hormones and finding love helped me get into a better state of mental health in adulthood.
Now I'm raising a kind, lovely, creative person with attention deficit disorder, major depressive disorder and severe anxiety. Not a day goes by when I don't find myself consumed with worry. And I can't help thinking karma is a real bitch.