Post-partum depression compounded by the difficulty of
moving to a new neighborhood and ever-present money
problems threatens Beila's mental stability.
"Only her bed was comforting to her and always greeted her
with welcoming arms. There she lay, sunk in her own
thoughts, in a state of complete apathy. The pillow would
absorb her tears, and the blanket warmed and comforted her
without any questions or demands."
Sometimes you can remember when a certain event began but
you can't foresee when it will be over. Other times you
don't know how or when a situation started but you can
estimate when it will end. But there are times where you
can't imagine how things ever began or even how they'll
terminate. That's how it was with Beila's depression.
The mood infiltrated slowly throughout her mind until it
took over her whole being. And no one knew how or when it
would ever leave her. In truth, at the beginning, she
wasn't even aware of it and when she finally felt it, the
depression had already found its niche and there it stuck,
dominating her totally.
Perhaps it all started with the new baby who wouldn't stop
crying, while all his brothers and sisters were also
demanding the attention she found so hard to give in her
weakened physical state. Perhaps it was the fact that she
had had to leave her job which, difficult as it was, had at
least held her together. But most probably, the final straw
was that they had to leave their old apartment which had
become much too small for them and move to a new city where
she didn't know anyone.
The neighbors who were about the same age and in similar
situations all tried to form a friendly group, but Beila
had no interest in joining them. She just had no strength
to get involved. At first, she gave one excuse after
another, but then she got used to her situation and simply
refused to go out. There was something else which bothered
her terribly: the debts. Not that they were so
overwhelming, but they weighed on her heart like lead.
All these difficulties combined together threatened to
unbalance her completely. She closed herself in, sunk into
her depression, and even stopped waiting for better times.
Nobody knew when the cloud would lift and Beila would
return to her old self.
"Beila, perhaps you should go out to an interesting
lecture?" her husband tried to suggest to her. He had seen
an announcement on the bulletin board in the hallway: Rav
Cohen was known to be an eloquent and inspiring speaker.
"I'll get my chavrusa to come and we can learn here
while you go out, so you don't have to worry about the
kids." Without realizing it, his voice took on an earnest
pleading tone. He really wanted to help her return to her
cheerful self. But Beila preferred to ignore the message.
"No, I can't, I'm tired," she responded listlessly.
"How about the family coming for Shabbos?" her mother-in-
law offered. "Take a break, get out of the house. This way
you won't have to prepare anything. It will be good for
you, for Moishe and for the children."
"We'll see. You know the children always feel best at
home," answered Beila, and her mother-in-law knew that she
was refusing in a nice way.
"Beily," this time it was her mother. "How about us going
out together this morning? Let's meet. Take a cab; I'll pay
for it. Bring Avi in his carriage. It's such a lovely day.
I'll buy you a new outfit. It's your birthday soon, isn't
it? Get dressed and come. It will do us both good to get
out." Her mother finished speaking, her voice full of
expectancy; a note of worry was evident in her request. But
Beila didn't care. She was tired of everything.
"So what if I have a birthday?" she mused out loud. "What's
the big deal? What's so great about having been born? Whom
does it help, anyway?" She answered slowly, in her tired
voice. "Not today, Ima. I just can't."
Somehow, the house managed to survive. With her remaining
strength, she would straighten the house a bit, cook simple
foods and do the necessary laundry. Her husband did all the
shopping, and most of the time, he also took care of the
children, while she became more and more introverted.
Beila had never been so stubborn or set in her opinions.
She had always had a listening ear and a tendency to agree
with others. But now it seemed as if a screen had dropped
between her and the rest of the world. Actually, it wasn't
really that. She just didn't pay attention to what was
being said and sadly, there was no way to get through to
her anymore.
Her husband also tried his luck. "Beila, maybe you'd like
to go away for a small vacation? I just saw an ad about a
summer camp for mothers. How about it? I'll manage with the
kids."
"No way," she answered tiredly, without further comment.
And when her sister came over, she also tried her best.
"Beila, you know my neighbor was also depressed like you
and this week I saw her going out again, dressed nicely and
feeling good. I'm certain she's been going for counseling
or treatment. Believe me, it's nothing to be embarrassed
about." At this point, her sister Sara, the one who was
always so close to her, began to stammer. "Especially these
days, when there's so much pressure all around. Lots of
people need psychological counseling. There are all kinds
of light medications and professionals who can give advice.
Why don't you try? Even the newspapers carry a number for a
counseling help line. This is just to show you how many
people must be in need of this service. Here, take it..."
at this point her sister tried to put the paper into her
hand but Beila didn't even react. She wasn't even annoyed
at her sister's attempt at intervention in her personal
life. She just didn't care about anything. Let people say
what they want. She remained shut into her own shell and
sunk further into her depression.
Her mother wouldn't give up. "Beily, please come out of the
house a bit. Get some sun and fresh air. Look at the lovely
trees and flowers. Buy yourself something pretty. How about
it? You know what? I'm willing to come once a week and
watch the children. I'll even put them to bed. You just
find something interesting you'd like to do. O.K.?"
But Beila wouldn't go out. It seemed to her too difficult,
too challenging to go out into the big busy street. The
sidewalk trembled under her feet and she felt totally
unstable, so she just kept herself cooped up, immersed in
her gloomy thoughts.
Only one thing kept her going in a normal way. With all her
heart and soul, she was attached to her siddur, to
the daily prayers and the Tehillim which she said with
emotion and tears and deep concentration. Only those words,
which poured out of her to Hashem, had the power to keep
her going. Half reclining on her bed, she wet her
siddur with her pleas, her cries and her anguish.
Only the siddur didn't try to convince her with words
that she couldn't relate to. She couldn't stand all those
people who tried to influence her way of feeling or
thinking. She was intelligent enough to appreciate the fact
that she'd been blessed with a good husband and wonderful
children and felt pangs of remorse that she couldn't enjoy
them and thank Hashem for these gifts. She wanted to but
she couldn't. Only the prayers could help her forge a link
to Hashem and keep the connection open.
"You know, Ima," she said once during one of her good
moments, when she could still talk to people. "I feel that
the prayers, only the prayers, will help me get out of this
situation." And even though her mother felt otherwise, she
didn't dare express her thoughts.
*
This time he would try and hopefully succeed, Moishe
decided, as he jotted down the information on a slip of
paper.
[Final part next week]
