Hey! My name’s Lindsey. It’s good to meet you.
If you found me, I’m guessing you’re struggling with parenting a depressed teenager. I feel you, as my son would say. And I see you.
My daughter developed depression when she was 13 years old. And while, statistically, I knew I wasn’t alone, it felt like we’re living in some alternate universe. Invisible somehow.
Professional help wasn’t helping. My home felt like a prison. I had zero confidence in my ability to parent, and a million questions with unsatisfactory answers. Questions like:
- Is her depression my fault?
- What constitutes an emergency if your child self-harms?
- Should I let her take antidepressants?
- Why aren’t the antidepressants working?
- Is a dog really necessary? and
- Will I ever stop crying in my car on the way to work?
I started this site not because I have answers to all these questions, but because I’m one of the lucky ones. My daughter is alive and off to university. And I feel relatively happy most days. So, maybe I’ve learned a thing a two these last few years.
I am NOT a mental health professional
It’s important you know this. I have zero qualifications when it comes to mental health. My experience is entirely anecdotal and what has worked for me may not work for you or your child.
I work full-time in marketing and events at The Globe and Mail. In addition to my daughter, I have a 14-year-old son, a husband of twenty years and counting, and a black lab named Tom.
We live on a ten-acre farm in Niagara, Ontario wine country as a result of my husband’s work. It sounds idyllic, but my kids, born and bred in mid-town Toronto, hate it, so it’s not always peaceful.
A few fun facts about me:
- I have a very small head. Like kid-size. I can wear a six-year-old’s hat;
- I swear like a sailor (in front of my kids) — not my worst parenting mistake — and drink more wine than the doctor recommended amount, but I’m working on this; and
- I am obsessed with self-help podcasts–you’ll read a lot about them in the pages of my blog. I think they’re magic.
If you think that maybe we’d get along, or that my experience might help you or your experience might help me, I hope you’ll keep in touch. Us parents of depressed teens, we need to stick together.