Saying No — The Gift of Depression

You might call it one of the gifts of depression — learning to say no. It happened years ago, after my daughter’s death, when people asked me to do things far too soon. I felt a strange disconnection with people who I normally loved. It felt almost like they were asking someone else, some phantom version of myself, not me. It felt like they were reading from some script and that it wasn’t real. So it became easy to say no. *I* wasn’t saying no. Someone else was. Someone who wasn’t me. Someone who had invaded my body and started taking charge of my life. Someone I didn’t like and so if other people hated her, I could agree with them.

Now I look back and see this splitting of self as a kind of protection of my tenderness, my vulnerability. I’m glad another part of me stood up and said “no” when I could not say yes. I did not have the energy and was very aware that saying “yes” could well cost me so much energy that I literally would not be able to stay alive. Now I’m more used to saying no. Or possibly I just don’t have the same close connections to people anymore. I certainly don’t have the same connections to family or church community that I did then.

I say no all the time now.

No, I won’t join the PTA.

No, I can’t speak on that topic that you suggested to me.