Still Here . . . Sort of

I'm going to let you all in on my secret.

I have depression.

I'm not talking about the blues. I'm not feeling down. I'm talking about serious, can't-get-out-of-bed, must-be-on-medication depression. When I tell people, they always ask me if I'm on medication, and I always laugh. If I wasn't on medication, I would be in bed ALL THE TIME. I need the medication to function.

The thing is, like any other disease, sometimes this depression thing flares up, for no apparant reason. This is one of those times. I'm weak, sad, anxious and feeling hopeless. I know this will pass eventually, it's just a matter of how long it will take.

It's hard to not be able to go to work, or do my church calling. I know it looks a lot like laziness, but I really want to go to work. I want to go to Primary! I just can't seem to do it. I went to work for four hours yesterday. It was the longest four hours of my life, and when I came home, I was a mess. I've been trying to talk myself into going for three hours now, and I can't do it. I just can't.

So now you know where I've been. Have you seen the "Depression Hurts" commercials? I've been there. I can't watch, those, by the way. They hit a little too close to home.

I know it's pretty much impossible for people who have never experienced major depression to understand how debilitating it can be. It's not really something you can explain, either. Emotional pain this bad is beyond imagination.

I've been dealing with this for almost 10 years now, so I'm very open about the whole things. If you know someone with depression, and you have questions about what they are going through or how you can help them, feel free to ask.

And We're Back!

I'm back from Disneyland. It was wonderful. Disney-licious. I gained back four of the five pounds I've lost. How does that happen? I walked for 6 hours, for two days straight, but I gained weight. Whatever. Pictures to come, as soon as I get mine.

So, here's a question. What does one do when one's life turns out to be not at all what one had planned?

Venting Fruststration So I Can Get Back in the Christmas Spirit

My dog just attacked another dog. Not just any other dog, either, but her best doggy-friend, my boss's dog. How does one respond to a situation like that? Especially a one like me, who is rather prone to freakoutage.

Here's what happened. I'm sitting at work, trying to make another 2400 labels because the last 2400 got all messed up, and all of a sudden I hear doggy yelping and screeching. So I look out the window, and they're in their usual wrestling position, only it's clear something has gone very wrong. I can't tell which is yelping, so I yell and them both, which usually gets them apart, but not this time. So then I think maybe their collars got stuck together somehow, so I run downstairs and get outside just in time to see my boss (who is my dad's partner, which is how he's my boss even though I work for my dad) walking out of the pen with his dog and a stick. "What the heck is going on?" I ask
"These dogs can't be together anymore!" he yells. "Your dog had mine by the throat and damn near killed him!" So he's yelling at me, which I understand, because it's an upsetting situation, but I don't respond to yelling well at all. And my dog is just sitting there inside the fence, just like nothing happened.

I go into the pen with her and check her out to see if maybe she's hurt or something, thinking that maybe he hurt her and she was defending herself, but no, she's fine. I start lecturing her, she she's just looking at me like, "What the heck are you talking about?" Then Lee (the boss-guy) comes out carrying Buddy (the dog victim) and Sadie (my dog) freaks and starts barking and growling!

So now my dog is an outlaw. Well, not really I suppose, but that's how I feel. I have to leave her at home now - not mandated by anyone, but it's the obvious appropriate reaction - and it's going to be as hard for me as it will be for her. It frustrates me that everyone seems to think she's a bad dog, when she's acutally very sweet. And I know you're thinking, "But she attacked another dog!" but this is VERY out of character for her. She's generally very submissive, and she and Buddy have been playing everyday for six months without a single incident.

Really, this is about me. Frankly, I haven't had the best couple of years, and I've been so lonely. Getting Sadie was the best thing I've done for myself, and I'm really attached to her. She pretty much goes everywhere with me. I'm having issues with my current situation, and I know this is going to end up being a big issue, and I'm going to end up crying. The most frustrating thing? If I talk to anyone about it, they'll tell me that I'm overreacting, and I'm taking things too personally, and I'm being irrational, all of which I already know. It just doesn't change how I feel. So I'm sending it out into the void in hopes that it will cure me of the need to vent and the anxiety, and I'll be able to go spend the evening with my family without freaking out. See? I'm already freaking out. I will not cry. Will. Not. Cry.

Does she look vicious to you?

Emptiness feels like a virus

I’m lying in bed, thinking, like I’ve done so many nights lately. I just watched a movie, and for some reason they always bring my emotions to the surface.

I’ve overcome so much this semester – just being able to say that shows how far I’ve come. I was drowning in that bottomless pit of hopelessness, and I managed to fight my way back. I say fight because that’s what it was every step of the way. I’m not saying I did it alone, I’ve been so blessed to have so much help to deal with my problems. When I was going through it, I felt like I was leaning on everyone, and floundering rather than fighting. But now I can see that what I did, what I have done before is a great achievement and something to be proud of. I’m still so surprised that I made it, that I really did overcome . . . still, things aren’t quite right.

Emotionally, I feel like myself again. The feelings of going crazy, of worthlessness, of general irrationality are gone. Yet, I find myself thinking, “How am I going to survive this?” Only now the “this” isn’t unbearable depression, it’s the overwhelming loneliness that I feel so often lately. I feel like there is part of me missing, so empty.

I’m a people person. I always have been. I love my family and friends with ferocity and loyalty that often surprises people, even myself occasionally. I don’t think I’m made to be alone. Throughout my childhood, I struggled with the juxtaposing ideas I was faced with. One came from my family, whom I adore and respect. It was the idea that we should be independent and happy without people. My mom always said, “It’s nice to have people around, but you shouldn’t need them.” I never quite understood this principle, because it so opposed my nature; the part of me saying, “That’s ridiculous, everyone needs people.”

In reality, it’s still something I contemplate occasionally, especially at times like this. I firmly believe that people need other people, and that we aren’t meant to be alone. We’re gregarious animals, such as is found so often in nature. Like sheep, cattle, horses, birds – we belong in flocks and herds. I guess the human version is family. Still, no matter how firmly I believe this, when my heart aches with loneliness, I can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign of weakness. If only I were stronger, would I be able to live my life independently, without so much pain?

I wonder, but only fleetingly. In my soul, I know that “it is not good for man to be alone.” (Genesis 2:18) I know there is no weakness in sharing life with other people. There is a country song by Garth Brooks called “Standing Inside the Fire.” It’s about the people who stand on the outskirts of the life, watching because they are afraid of risk. The second verse talks about those who battle the fire and walk the wire; those who are convinced that without risk, there is no purpose. One line says, “Life is not tried, it is only survived, if you’re standing outside the fire.” Being strong and independent enough to not need people may prevent pain, but it also prevents joy.

So I can’t help but wonder now, when will I find my help meet? Where is the one I’m meant to share my life with, and how long must I endure this loneliness? And most of all, how will I bear it? The emptiness seems to grow stronger each day, and sometimes I fear that it will encompass me, leaving only bitterness. I know who I am. I don’t need anyone to provide me with an identity. I need a partner, a friend, someone to laugh and cry and love with. How much longer must I endure?

Finding Peace

It's almost two in the morning. I can't sleep. I'm tired, but not sleepy. I think there is something wrong with my mind. I feel this panic, a need to get away, but where to go? I hope to find peace in my empty apartment, but it's not there. I hope for it alone in my car, enjoying the rythmn of driving, but it's not their either. I look for it in the outdoors, in fresh air and sunlight - I've always found it there before. But this time, it's not there. I know in the logical side of my mind that I can get through this, that it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. But in my heart, I feel like it's different. Where all my illogical feelings are built up, I feel like this is the time I won't be able to handle it, that this is the time I really will go crazy. I think of all the place were I could feel safe, and it's always with the peope I love. Anywhere would be safe if I was snuggling with my mom. If anyone can save me from insanity, it's her. She has before. She saved my life. And now she's so far away. If I was with Best Friend, staying up too late and sleeping in all day, things would be right again. Therein, I believe, lies the key; the reason that this time is different. The sun came out, and the gloom dissapaited. But when I stop working, going to class, pretending like everything is okay, the lonliness descends like a cloud. The worst part about this time is that it IS real. There is a reason for the ache deep inside that it feels as if my soul is weeping and my heart is ripping open. Heartache. They should tell you that it's not just a metaphor. It really aches. The worst part? Not that it's real, but that there is nothing I can do to change it. I can't bring my family closer. I can't go see a movie with my best friend. I can't develop a trusting, tell-each-other-anything-unconditional-support-and-love in the next week. Or in the next month, for that matter. Worse, the one person I thought I could depend on, I can't. I don't know what happened, I don't know if it was somehow my fault. I just know it's not there anymore. It vanished so quickly - maybe I've been fooling myself all along. There was a reason I didn't want to call him by his full name. It's Frasier all over again.

I'm moving in six months. Six months - not long enough to establish a real relationship, and then I leave to a place where I know no one. How long is this desolate loneliness meant to last? These times, they challege my deepest and most powerful beliefs. "Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace? Where, in my need to know; where can I run? He answers privately, reaches my reaching. Who, who can understand? He, only One." Yet, in my darkest hours, when I most yearn for peace, when my reaching is greatest, I don't feel Him reaching back. I can recite the right answers, I can listen to pithy comments on faith from others, but the fact remains - I "know" the answers, but I'm not sure I believe them. "Faith precedes the miracle." What if my faith isn't sufficient. And that, that is my greatest fear. That in my anguish, the faith that I have based my life on will prove false. Perhaps peace can only be found within ourselves. Perhaps peace comes from having faith. And yet, no matter how I yearn for it, peace exceeds my grasp, and the ache remains.