'Sheltered Childhood' or 'My 8th Birthday'

What did my 8th birthday party have to do with a sheltered childhood? Everything!

This particular memory is a bit less of a depression getaway and you will learn why as you read.

My 8th party looms in my memories only because we have family movies of it. Otherwise I would not have such a vivid memory of it at all. As a matter of fact, I can't really remember it, I just know the movie version.

What is interesting about this party is that my mother is not there. She was in a 'home' having a nervous breakdown at the time. But this was 1958 and people didn't discuss such things with children.

I am sure my mother insisted that I have a 'normal' birthday party and really, I think they kind of went overboard to compensate for her absence. All of the other mothers were there with their kids. My aunt ran the whole thing. I look quite happy and oblivious to the heartache in my mother's life. (The picture by the way is not my actual party, just a picture of a some child's birthday in the 50's.)


Anyways, it was normal in those days, at least for parents like mine, to shelter their children from as many of life's realities as possible. I appreciate the opportunity to have a wonderful uninterrupted childhood but sometimes wonder if I was too sheltered.

I never even went to a funeral until I was 19 years old and only then because I chose to myself.

Do I have any vivid memories of my mother's breakdown? Only one. She was in a 'rest home' somewhere in Toronto in a beautiful neighbourhood of older homes, I think it might have been Rosedale. Anyways, I only remember one time going with Dad to visit her, but we were not allowed in. (Children couldn't visit in hospitals. How healing was that?) So my sister and I just sat in the backseat of our car and coloured in our little colouring books while Dad visited. I don't remember feeling bad, or sad, or confused, or anything....

And afterwards, when Mom came home? Nothing was ever said about it. Even many years later when my own battle with depression began, she said very little about hers.

And so this memory is more about what didn't happen, rather than what did happen. I guess the knowledge of it solves one part of my puzzle - the person to pass down the mental illness gene was my mom.

But you know I am not even sure if it would have helped had we talked about it. And she is gone so I will never find out. Besides, one thing I do know and that is that she had shock treatment. So maybe she didn't remember enough about it to talk to me?

This memory is not a depression getaway as you can probably guess. But it can be helpful, even necessary for us to look back into the mental health history in our own family.

WHAT ABOUT YOU? How are you feeling today? Do you know much about the history of mental health in your family? Is there anyone you can ask?

Don't give up! There is hope for depression.