It’s been a while since I have written. For the most part, I’ve enjoyed hanging out with my little girl, and life has been great. I have been the happiest I have been in a while. And maybe that has just made things worse. Before, at least I couldn’t really remember what happiness was. I didn’t know what I was missing really. Now, well, I know what I’m missing… and I am having a very hard time adjusting to being depressed again.
I’m scared and I don’t know where to turn. I am not in counseling anymore. I pretty much got kicked out by my last counselor a good three years ago. I don’t blame him. I would have kicked me out too. At the same time, I felt abandoned by him. I get that counseling doesn’t help unless the person being counseled doesn’t want it. But at the same time, kicking someone out pretty much leaves that person alone, and feelings of unworthiness validated.
When I get depressed I feel like I just fell in a deep hole and was paralyzed on the way down. I can’t get out and no one is around to help… including the ability to talk about anything. I’m ashamed by my thoughts. I’m so overwhelmed by everything, all the feelings, I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know what to tell someone… I hate my life, and don’t want to live it anymore… anything beyond that is hard to explain, including the why.
I’m ashamed. I shouldn’t be having these feelings… If I was stronger… or smarter… or believed in God more, then I would be happy. But I’m not, so I’m weak, dumb, and a horrible Christian by some folk’s accounts… and at this point in time, of mine too…
Everything is so overwhelming. It’s like all the thoughts hit me at the same time. They are all intermingled. All intense… so very intense. I can’t distinguish one feeling from another, or hell…even why I’m having the feelings. They hit me all at once. Like an endless avalanche.
I feel so alone. And honestly, I’m not sure if I’m relieved at that. At least if I’m alone with my thoughts, no one will know how horrible and stupid I am. I have no one to talk over the feelings and get help, but at the same time, I’m not sure there is any help for me. I can’t talk to my husband about it. Not to family. Don’t really have any friends I trust with the feelings. I can’t take the risk that someone will start a rumor at work about me. Or that someone will report me and I’ll have to be hospitalized.
Honestly, I’m not sure what to do anymore. I’m back to where I was before. Do I live or not? My husband would get a lot of money by my death. Maybe at least my life would be worth something then… or at least my death. The pain would end, permanently.
I’m tired of crying… or of being so sad and exhausted that I can’t cry anymore.
I want to self-injure again. It’s a release for me. Maybe it’s the fact that the physical pain gives me something to focus on. Something to see… something concrete to say this is what is causing me pain. The pain from depression is so hard because there’s nothing you can see. It’s not like a bruise that you can see… it’s not like a cancer that you can see on an x ray. It’s something that is all in your brain, that you should be able to control. If I do it, my husband will see and know, and I can’t have that. The next best thing goes hand in hand with the suicide thing… stopping eating. It is how I’ve always wanted to die. On my birthday by starving myself. I have about six months to make this happen. I think I can do it.
I wish I could talk to my counselor from grad school. She’s been the only one that I feel safe with. The only one I could open up to completely… the only one that has ever been able to help me untwine the feelings. The only counselor I’ve been able to cry in front of. Maybe that isn’t a big deal to you, but to someone like me, it is. Crying is very private for me. I know… I’m weird. Just because I’m too afraid to cry in front of someone doesn’t mean I don’t want to open up to someone. At this time, I just want to cry and be held and told I can do this.