It's taken me some time to write this but I figure that being a coward hasn't ever sat well with me.
This past week has been me gripping the wheel of control with both hands, white knuckled all the way. I haven't had the luxury of relaxing. I'm still not as the ride isn't over yet.
Suicidal depression is such an odd beast. I have been on school break and one would think it wouldn't show up then, demanding my time and attention but that wasn't how it played out.
I've had dreams of loss and grief and hurt every night. I wake up and it's about all I can do to get out of bed, get into the shower, get dressed and pretend to be a functioning human being when it's all I can do to breathe.
Last Wednesday, I called in and came in late. I needed more time to pull myself together. I was too blown apart to even move.
My spoons, as the analogy goes, were in disarray and I had about four at my disposal. Maybe.
Facebook isn't much help. I am invited out to do things. Friends I know are having health issues and are doing their level best to kick ass and take names. Then there are the statuses that are all, 'be happy you're alive and get out there and live life!'
It's been like hot pokers in my eyes, to be honest. It's been me feeling ashamed and small because I'm holding on as hard as I can until I can feel somewhat sane again and I know I shouldn't feel ashamed because I'm fighting my own demons but there it is.
What I have to remind myself is that my own chemical illness is just as much a health condition as any one else's health issues. I may not have cancer or heart disease or a tumor but I'm trying to beat the odds just like everyone else. I know people might not understand. All I can say is that when my chemistry isn't fucked six ways to Sunday and I'm not fast talking myself to stay away from the sharp things in the house, I'm fine. I have the strength and presence of mind to enjoy life and to do All The Things. And I do.
And the truth of the matter is, I'm more often not fine than I am. I pretend really really well. It's when I can't pretend is when I slip and can't go places and do things and see people because I can't concentrate on more than one thing, maybe two.
I have made a promise to my sons that I would not leave them and I intend to keep that promise. This means that during the times when that voice, that Darkness tells me I'm worthless and I'm useless and no one Loves me and no one wants me and I'm better off dead and why don't I just DO it all ready because I'm fooling no one but myself and I'd be doing everyone a favour if I killed myself...when I am curled over myself about out of my mind because I can't stop that from talking to me no matter how I distract myself and books don't help and music doesn't help and I don't want to be around anyone...when the knives and the blades start looking like something good...I am no good around anyone.
I am exhausted. I dream about loss and I dream about boundaries being broken and I dream about being told I'm no good and I'm a failure. I can't escape even in my sleep and I wake up and I about want to just end it. Fucking call it.
Here's the secret, here's the thing: sometimes, sometimes it seems as though killing myself is the only control I have over all of this when it's too much.
At least (in that part of me that wants to end it) at least *I* made the decision. At least, I said, 'I'm done.' and walked off the stage on my own fucking terms.
I realize that the Darkness is a lie. I realize that when I'm feeling strong and the Darkness is but a murmur and I can shut it out, killing myself is the last thing I want to do.
So this entire past fucking week of shit, it's been the Darkness speaking and cajoling and finally, screaming at me non stop to do it.
I was supposed to go out today but I couldn't. I couldn't be around people and have them worry about me. I couldn't be around people because I couldn't hide what I'm struggling with and my eyes would be dead as I smiled and I...I wouldn't do that to anyone. Sides, going to a birthday party for a sweet one year old baby girl with the thoughts of suicide and hurt running a continuous loop in my brain is not something I want to be a part of. That's no birthday present. So I stayed away. Even though I absolutely wanted to see her...it will have to be another time when I can smile with my eyes and my heart.
It's hard to write about this because I do NOT want anyone's pity. Nor do I want people to think I'm weak or worthless or anything like that. Nor am I particularly interested in talking about it. I'm too damn busy shutting the Darkness down to talk a whole lot right now.
But writing about it hopefully lets people understand how fucking awful mental illness is and how it can affect a person and how deep it goes. It helps family and friends understand that it's not about seeking attention or playing around or whatever stupid bullshit assumption is brought up. No, I'm not here for anyone's entertainment, does this LOOK like it's fun?
I'll get by. I understand that it's the week before my Moon cycle and each month, I go through some variation of this. Some months are harder than others for some unknown reason. I've been going through this for a good 20 years so it's not like it's anything new. It just gets rather tiring after a while.
Here's the thing, lads. It may be that tomorrow, something in my head 'clicks' and the chemical imbalance tips back to where it should be and I feel a calm, a clearing of the fog, and I'm fine. I can push back against the Darkness with ease and tell it to shut the fuck up. I can be around people without feeling like I'm rubbing against barbed wire. I can smile and my eyes look alive again.
It may be tomorrow. It may be a week from now. All I know is that I hang on, I persevere, I remind myself that I will get through this...that I'm not going to listen to what the Darkness is telling me.
For now, though, I keep to myself. I drink tea and keep my sons and my husband close to me because they are the ones I Love so very much and have promised to stay with and I spare as much strength as I can...
It will pass.
K.
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