Living with a family member who has depression can be hard. Sometimes they have good days and sometimes they have not so good days. Sometimes you feel close to them and sometimes they seem to pull away from you. Most times it’s hard to understand what they are going through.

When I was growing up, my father was always the one to play games with my brother and me. Whether it was pushing us down the slope of our driveway on sleds in the winter or having tea parties with me on the living room floor, my dad was always down for a good time. Every weekend our house would be filled with music with my dad dancing like a fool. As I got older I could feel my father being pulled away from me slowly. I wasn’t as close to him anymore. Sure, he would come to all of my sports games and go to my concerts (or watch them online if they were being live-streamed). He would bring me to all of my AAU tournaments and would be wholly supportive of me. But did I talk to my dad about my day in depth? No. Did we hug a lot? No. Did we go to places together just to go places? No. I felt as though I didn’t really know who my father was anymore.

My family never really talked about what was happening, or maybe my parents kept it from my brother and me. Maybe it’s a bit of both. Who knows?

Going into my senior year of high school I started feeling really upset and down during the day but was fine after basketball practice. I didn’t know what was wrong. I would feel crappy all day long, not really enjoying school or hanging out with my friends. After talking to my mom, who is a physician assistant, we discussed the possibility of me having seasonal depression because it runs in the family. I asked her who had it and she explained that my father had depression that got particularly bad in the winter months. This surprised me. I hadn’t known and my parents hadn’t told me before, so I asked her why she never brought it up. She said that she wanted to shelter me, protect me from the mood swings and him being withdrawn; she wanted to protect my brother and me from getting our feelings hurt. At first I was angry; I already felt my father being pulled away and that we weren’t as close anymore. Then I felt upset -- upset that they hadn’t thought I was strong enough the handle the truth of his depression or that I wouldn’t be able to handle my father’s emotions in his depressed state. I soon made peace with it and understood why my mother didn’t want me to know.

After learning about the real reason my father had drawn away from me and why he didn’t seem like himself, I started to understand what I was going through. I began to understand more of what having depression is really like. During the fall and winter months, as it got colder, my dad would begin to pull away from our family and spend more time on his own. During the weekends we would all be home, but we would never all be in the same room together except for dinner. It was very hard to try and be close to someone when they seem to retreat inside themselves for half of the year. It’s still very hard. There are some days when my dad seems like himself: joking around, singing in the car, making everyone around him laugh. There are other days where he seems more quiet and serious, more withdrawn. I’ve learned that I need to gauge his mood before speaking sometimes, and even that is tough (seeing as I’m loud and usually just speak without thinking first).

Knowing that my father has depression and seeing how it manifests itself in him can be very difficult. There are days where I just want a hug from my dad and I feel like I can’t ask for one without getting snapped at. There are days where we both are in foul moods and days where we are both happy as can be. I hope that one day during the winter I’ll be able to go up to my dad and hug him and have him hug me back. My father has sought out treatment and is currently on medication; he is doing what he can to help fight his depression. Growing up with a father who has depression has helped me to appreciate the good times we have had together even more, and to be excited for the good times ahead. I appreciate all of the happy moments, all of the sad moments, and all of the angry moments, because I know that no matter what is going on, if I truly need my dad, he will always be there for me.

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Now, both of my parents read the first draft of this article, which admittedly had a more negative tone at the end. They both suggested that I make the ending more positive. My dad has sought treatment in the past and is working on battling his depression. He is fighting every day. His commitment to fighting his depression and to be there for this family is what is truly positive about this story. I am in no way trying to romanticize what having depression is like. It’s really hard and shitty and not fun. For me, it’s like I’m not able to make myself leave my room except for classes and food. I know I should go be around people, but I cannot physically make myself do it. Depression sucks, but after the downhill battles are uphill climbs that are full of sunshine and good times. Those are what I have come to appreciate more with my own struggle with depression and by living alongside my father. Not every day is going to be perfect. Not every day will have everyone be in a good mood and want to hug it out. There are days where you don’t want anyone to touch you and days where you need a shoulder to cry on. There is nothing fun and romantic about having depression; it’s a struggle and battle that, unfortunately, many people have to deal with. I wanted to share my experience and story with you so you could maybe understand what this is like and how it can affect people.