Sydneralla was born "at risk". So when a psychologist told me last year that she was at risk, I wasn't surprised. I was worried more about early experimentation with drugs or alcohol, given that her dad, all 4 of her grandparents, most of her aunts and uncles, and a handful of extended family are alcoholics or recovering addicts. My plan in that event was to throw her in rehab the first time I ever caught her doing any of the sort. Or even a young pregnancy because her mom had a tendency to be a bit of a slut. My plan with that was to take her right to the controversial clinic that makes pregnancies disappear, then move her to small town Saskatchewan where my faux husband now lives far away from us. I knew all the risks when she was born. And since then, all I've really tried to do was make sure none of that happened. What never crossed my mind over the last decade was that she was also at risk for depression. Biological depression to be exact. I have to admit I felt a little relieved when they told me biological versus situational depression. What that meant to me is that I'm not the piece of shit parent that I sometimes feel like I am. Albeit far from perfect, but at least my daughter can look me in the eye and tell me that I have given her a good life. When I was suffering with my depression as an adolescent, it was probably situational. It was never treated, it just kinda went away. I did however get knocked up at 17, so having a tiny person to care for kinda made the sadness over my shitty circumstances up until then seem a little less important. And given that my tiny little person was absolutely perfect in every way, it was a little easier to coast through the last 13 years. Easier, not easy. In no way, shape or form has my role as a mother been easy. As any mother reading this will know, it doesn't matter what the circumstances are, being a parent is fucking hard. I know what my flaws are, I know the mistakes that I have made, and I know there are probably many more to come, but I again, I can't help but feel some relief. My 13 year old is physically healthy, smart in a way that I kinda wish she wasn't, funny as hell, has never had sex, has never tried drugs, and has never been drunk. Yes, she's now on Prozac, but she wants to enjoy the good life she admits she has. And embrace the fabulous person that she knows she is. She wants to make good choices and grow up to be successful. And with any luck, a 6 month round of happy pills and regular talk therapy will send her up that path. The good sunny happy path. And if nothing else, at least she's taking pills that are pretty much guaranteed to kill sex drive. And that alone makes me happy.
