I recently discovered a blogger online; a person who, like I, suffers from depression. From everything I can glean from her online presence, she appears very bright. She is Hungarian and was studying ancient music in the Netherlands and Austria but give that up while she dealt with yet another bout of depression. Her bouts of depression can be prolonged. She came back to Hungary and coming home to Hungary may not be the best place to park while suffering depression. Many natives here cannot differentiate between clinical depression and what Hungarians seem to wear as a badge; the Magyar malaise of melancholy.
She recently posted about getting a job as a nurse in Austria and seems happy to be following this new path.
This post, then, is for her future patients.
With this nurse, you are likely in very good hands. You are in wounded hands and the wounded know and appreciate care more than most. This one suffers a wound that does not bleed, does not ooze, shows no visible abrasions or fractures. This one bears a wound that is often dismissed, trivialized or ridiculed. She bears the pain of this wound as a matter of course, as a fact of life and a card she has been dealt. She will most likely be more motivated to help ease your suffering, whatever its cause and most likely will not marginalize your suffering, dismiss it out of hand or walk away from your bedside thinking to herself that you should ‘suck it up” and deal with whatever ails you.
Anyone who lives with chronic pain understands pain better than those who experience pain in fleeting moments, be that from a stressful session in a dentist’s chair to a broken bone. This one deals with pain every day. And it is not pain that gets much sympathy. It is the pain inherent in depression.
The blessing in this curse is what you read in some of her writing or see in some of her photographs. While some simply show the angst of depression, some show beauty.
If I were, (like you), a patient lying in a hospital bed, this is a nurse I would want at my side. This one understands pain and isolation and was not textbook taught about compassion but learned it the hard way: through experiencing a lack of it.
You are in good hands. You are in caring hands.
Thamk you for this post and your nice words! It made me really happy! And you are right: Hungary is not the best place for people who are suffering from depression, especially in these times. We are all depressed enough even the ones who have no biochemie problems
I hope moving back to Austria will work. I’m optimistic about it right now. And once more: thank you for the post!