Now for Something Honest…

I like the question being asked of me, what fictional character would you like to see meet and under what circumstances might that occur.  Right now, I hope that distraction sticks in my mind at other points during the day.  But I wanted to write something different, something that has been sticking in my mind for a few days.  Something important I learned about myself and how depression can really play with your thoughts.

Tomorrow when they wheel me into yet another in a line of poking around my brain, I wonder if they can take away some of the pain.  That emotional toll I’ve been paying for the last 18 months, that caused me to break in ways I didn’t even know I could and I certainly hadn’t been ready for their arrival.  A year ago I found out about all of the cancer returning stuff.  There had been signs, but I ignored them because I was concentrating on helping the Ex that I stopped helping myself.  The number of times some doctor has told me that maybe being sick to my stomach and not eating, throwing-up the medicine I was taking might have not been the best course of action.

Depression sucks!  You stop thinking rationally about simple things and they become so insurmountable that they truly can take away parts of your life.  It’s not just hours in the days that become days or weeks, it’s that you are fearful of living.  I’m not talking suicidal, which in my case I may have been at some point when I didn’t care about any of it; but just walking out into the sunlight making you turn around and crawl back into the darkness.

There’s a blog I follow here that makes my heart stop when I read it.  I understand this person’s pain in a way that I don’t like to admit to most people.  I see signs of myself and pray that this person is getting the help that I have been trying to let into my own world.  Most times I don’t feel as if I deserve it, I still have a hard time getting past my former mother-in-law’s statements even when she had no idea how hard I was trying {someone told me she didn’t want to know because it would change her narrative and possibly make her look silly.}

I thought my life ended the day my daughter died.  It sure felt that way.  The cancer felt like payback for having not been able to protect her.  That sounds silly to you, but to me and my friendly depression; it sometimes feels that way.

The one positive aspect of all of this turmoil has been that I knew enough to get out of my house and run to a place where I knew they would help.  I admit to being a hard person to deal with.  The phrase “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry” comes out of my mouth daily in situations where I truly could use someone else’s assistance.  Kathy and Susie know this about me, they force themselves into places when I need them but am too afraid to ask.  It’s not “Do you want me there?”, it’s “What time do we need to leave?”

The time for the false bravado ended long ago.  Admitting the fear and panic means admitting that I can’t do this alone.  Something that was forced on me and I accepted because I loved someone so much that I didn’t want to see her hurt anymore.

I’m gonna go see if someone will let me walk outside for a few minutes.  Take in all the sounds and remember every last minute detail that my brain can process.  Then I need to write yet another in a series of letters I have over the past 18 months to my kid, letting her know what’s happening and why.  It helps me deal in a way I otherwise couldn’t.  That calming effect is something I still cling to…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Worlds Colliding.”


3 thoughts on “Now for Something Honest…

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