My daughter has been a mess for about a year now. Her meds stopped working. She's had hallucinations. She's been depressed, and she's been hospitalized thrice in the last six months.

But she seems to be getting better. The new med cocktail seems to be working. I have proof now. Yesterday, while building a chinchilla cubby, she slipped and hammered her finger.

She didn't cry. She didn't curl into a fetal ball and become unresponsive. She didn't walk around all day crying and saying she's useless and wants to die. Instead:

 

Daughter: I hammered my finger.
Me: That must hurt. Ice it.
Daughter: It doesn't hurt that bad.
Me: Do you realize you're not crying? Do you think your meds might be working?
Daughter: (smile) Yes, I think they must be.

This might seem like a little thing to some people, to people that don't understand depression. But to me, and to my daughter and my entire family, this was a giant leap forward.

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