And I quote …

“People talk about depression all the time. The difference between depression and sadness is sadness is just from happenstance—whatever happened or didn’t happen for you, or grief, or whatever it is. Depression is your body saying f*ck you, I don’t want to be this character anymore, I don’t want to hold up this avatar that you’ve created in the world. It’s too much for me.

You should think of the word ‘depressed’ as ‘deep rest.’ Your body needs to be depressed. It needs deep rest from the character that you’ve been trying to play.”

I’m going down

Sometimes life pushes us down because there’s something we’re supposed to find something down here.

OR at least that’s what I’ve heard and keep telling myself, but for the life of me I just can’t seem to sugar coat all this shit or even just turn it into fertilizer. 

I’m tired. I didn’t sleep last night and I don’t know if I can tonight. It’s getting harder and harder to sleep without him, but getting more time in his arms just doesn’t seem to be in the cards right now.

 I got spoiled having him completely to myself last week in Florida and unfortunately, I think that was expected to suffice longer and maybe it would have had I known. I tried to give him down time and keep to myself as much as possible since it was a work trip. We stayed in, instead of going out, which was totally fine, because I was in great company. I stuck to the agenda, but I could still feel his anxiety rising. I noticed his drinking increasing, but vacay. I drove us to the airport last Friday to  try to help alleviate it in whatever way I could, but going through security seemed to dissipate that. I thought maybe it was being away from his boys, but when we got home, it still didn’t seem to alleviate. 

Yes, I understand all the circumstances were back but it just seemed different, he felt distant, like he was checked out. Like last Saturday with the Craigslist fiasco. I tried to recover the time we had together  by pulling everyone in over a shared family dinner, engaged and giggly. I actually remember being proud of myself. Wait… am I delusional about what I bring to the table, literally?

He said he felt better after some down time with me at my place on Monday. Then, he went back to juggling the week, while I was recovering from a medical procedure. He even fixed a pretty major plumbing issue for me before  he had to rescue the boys.  He was busy and I was lonely, but it just felt like …intentional distance. Admittedly, I needed him more than I conveyed and that is my own fault, but his boys needed him more and recovery isn’t going as planned. I tried to deal with my own shit because I genuinely thought he was getting maxxed out. Also, Im not good at saying, “I need you.” 

Yesterday was his youngest’s birthday and I couldn’t be there, not just because of the procedure recovery, but because they were having a “family dinner” and integration is a tricky process for all parties involved. I know that it was harder for him than it was for me, I was trying to be supportive, but after becoming priivy to all the conversations he and his ex shared over the upcoming birthday, her near death experience…. (even as the nurse was trying to find him to update him on me) I reached my max in insecurity and my girl brain spun up and in a frustrated effort to brush off anymore unnecessary worry on my part and anxiety on his, I was curt, misspoke via text and created a whole other problem. One in which, his response, completely rubbed me the wrong way and left me raw. So now, even with two days off from work, he’s seemingly still without “downtime” and I’m beginning to suspect that I may be more trouble than I’m worth to him. 

I feel like my insecurity would better mend with his presence and his anxiety would better mend without mine?

What the fuck does that even mean?

It’s really hard to cope with things having to be so complicated when I desire such truly, simple things. 

Are we making it more complicated than it needs to be? Are things complicated because these circumstances are too unreasonable to navigate?  

Or is there something else down here I need to see?
                                  

Would you rather be touched by fire – or ice?

This week was suicide prevention week. It occurred to me that for all the mental health awareness there is in the world, it still seems lost on the people that you want most to love and support you … your family. For the life of me, I cannot understand it.  Ive seen my own family reeling from a suicide, all of us asking ourselves what we could of done differently and wondering where we went wrong, regretting not reaching out sooner or more often. 

Yes, it’s too late to change anything about  those who were lost to the depths of depression along their own life’s path, but, No, you do not get to ever go back to being naive to the darkness which swallowed them. Please remember, you cannot forget.

What about the ones who have grappled with the depths of despair that are still among us? 

Maybe in your truth, you see this as a consequence, but  for what exactly? Being touched by fire? Do we deserve to be burned? And if the opposite of this is you…are you touched  by ice?

Seems like a zero sum game. 

Perhaps we could just trust each other to pay attention to our own truth. I’ll stay out of yours, you stay the hell out of mine? Maybe family could learn to treat other relatives with slightly more dignity than a complete stranger? 

Is that the best we can do? 

That saddens me, but then again what do I know, I’m the sick one …

                                                   right?

So I kept living 

On this night last year, at just about this time the lying bastard that depression is got me in the corner and beat the hell out of me. 

I didn’t want to feel anymore, didn’t think I could. I was ready to find a peaceful dream…just fall asleep and let the pain fall away. With a handful of sleeping pills and another of pain pills, I made an attempt. 

I penned the following note to my children:

You both are a dream come true. I never loved anyone or anything as much as I loved you. I know that may not seem like a lot right now, but with all my heart with every fiber of my being I have prayed over your lives, for your very existence. I dreamed you to life. I know I have failed you miserably. I hate myself for it. I hate that I have given you less than you deserve in life. That I was too young and ignorant to pick a better father for you. You both deserved better than that. NONE of it is your fault. It is mine alone. I could never forgive myself for that. Today would have been Chris and I’s 15th anniversary had we remained married. I was never strong enough to leave him, always stuck in codependence but I had to be strong enough for you. The stakes got too high. Please know that you were planned and dreamed and hoped for and so very loved. Please know that. It is not a lack of love but my own weaknesses, my failing mind, spirit and body that I do not want to burden you with any further. I want you to be free of me and my inadequacy. Please believe me when I say that there have been countless days that the only reason I went on was for just the  you. I just couldn’t anymore. My heart and soul were beyond saving and repair and there is no one to blame for that. It was a seamless stretch of circumstances with no bounds in which I was buried by hopelessness. I am tired and have nothing left to offer in this shell. I only have my love and guidance which I pray I am given enough of Gods grace to allow me to  protect you from my poor choices and mistakes from a distance, but allows you to know Im always with you. You are my life, my legacy. You must go on and be the change this world desperately needs. The light that casts away darkness as you always did in my heart. You alone are enough just as you are. You always have been and always will be. Love and carry one another to the finish line. Ill be watching. Ill be the biggest fan of your lives. 

I love you. 

Please forgive me. 


After that is mostly a blur…

A phone call came through despite my phone being on “do not disturb”. On the other end, an angel. 

There were police and paramedics. 

An ambulance ride. 

Saying: “I fucked up. I don’t want to die”

In and out of consciousness. 

A hospital transfer. 

Conversations I couldn’t stay conscious throughout. 

I lost days but not my life. 
A year later, I find that I am stronger than I ever thought possible. 

I have to keep finding that strength on my own. 

So I kept living.