Desperation

When some body commits suicide the people around them respond as if it was a personal attack on them. "I am so angry! How selfish of John Doe to go and kill himself!" or "Jane Doe was a pussy! She took the easy way out." When I was around 22 years of age, I became so depressed and lost. I was married and had a child. My little sister lived with me and my husband and daughter. I was not yet in therapy, along way from even knowing that I had a need for help. My husband was abusive and we fought all the time. I spent so much time just trying to understand why I felt so sad and so lost. There was no one in my life that I could talk to about anything especially my emotions. I don't think the people around me tolerated any or had a use for them in others. I was supposed to be like a productive robot. They decided that I was a problem based on my depression state. As I soul searched, I came to the conclusion that I had failed at everything and had disappointed or disgusted the people I loved. My kid my sister my family in general. Most of all, I failed my self. I waited and I looked for options and answers but none came and no one had any to give. I felt so lost and alone, so useless and such failure. One day in the summer, a sunny and warm morning my husband and sister and my daughter were going to go to the lake and go fishing. I chose not to go because I had made a choice. My failures were so ugly to me that I could no longer live with them, I took a bottle of antihistamines (62 pills) and locked myself in the bathroom of our home. I prepared my self for the end of the pain and the sadness. I had a friend I didn't know I had. She busted in and took me on to the local clinic as the pills took their toll and I slipped away in to unconsciousness and peace. When I woke I was in the hospital and immediately the reality of the fact that once again I had failed hit me. I was such a failure I couldn't even kill my self! I went home and every one seemed to just sweep the whole thing under the rug like it never happened. I have never let myself forget the things that led up to that moment. The way I felt, the things that I was thinking and the fact that I truley felt with no doubt what so ever, that killing me was the only option I had to end my pain. THE ONLY OPTION I HAD !

Who Am I

Sorry there's no picture today. I couldn't find one that would express the way I feel today. The holidays are always hard for me and I am sure many many others. But this year it's not the holidays that's causing pain. Because of the other individuals that are involved with this blog entry I can't be specific. I apologize to you my readers as my intent with this blog was to tell it in the raw, but I neglected to factor in that others might be offended or feel that their privacy has been breached if I mention names or certain events in which they play a role in. So as difficult as this could be to explain I am going to do my best. The only way to really feel better or get better when you suffer from any number of mental health issues,( I have several, anxiety, P.T.S.D., chronic depression, panic attacks, premenstrual dysforic disorder.....)is to seek therapy, See your doctor about medication, and commit your self to getting better. The meds don't do much if you don't have therapy. The other factor is support. A therapist and some pills can't cure you. The combo only educates and guides you So that you can live more of your life. It helps you to build that tool box of tools that help us cope with the the Parts of life that are over whelming, difficult, sometimes impassable. It's what you learn and how you use it that makes the darker parts of you less and the days in the sunshine more. Not long ago I had only one week of functioning, ok time. With the meds and the work I have done in therapy I now have Three weeks of functioning,and ok time. Bottom line is, if you are reading this and haven't at least considered checking in to therapy and seeing your doctor about medications, you are wasting time, wasting your life. I have come a long way, but no way am I prepared for what is ahead of me. I am going to essentially be getting in to the lions cage wearing only a meat suit. If that doesn't kill me or whatever, I will be homeless and alone until my survival instincts kick in. I once had such good skills in the ways of keeping my self some what safe, and fed. I could make it out there by myself in the big world, but those skills have not been used in so long that I doubt I even have them any more and there fore doubt my chances of making it work on my own are very good. I know that this time failure will be devastating and I won't have a safety net or a backup plan. No one to catch me when I fall. I would have liked my story to end in glory and the happy ever after thing, but in reality not all stories end Happily ever after. As a matter of fact some end down right ugly. Part of healing is acceptance. That is one thing I can never do. I can't accept that I will never be whole,nor can I accept that I will always live in fear, even though the facts are so clear that they are all but embedded In my flesh. This will not change. There's no cure. I struggle every minute of every day of every week of every month Of every year with that fact. I am tired, and don't have the strength I once did to fight to be ok.

Tools of Happy

I can not begin to tell you how important my dogs are in dealing with my depression. While I do have a support team of folks in my therapy, none of them can do for me what a warm soft and furry dog can do. My dog of choice is the Bully Breeds but all dogs have a secret depression fighting tool. They are like little super hero's who silently fight depression demons the entirety of their lives. I believe it is their reason for being. I owe them my life.
       When I look in to my dog's eyes I see a light of understanding, and love. If I am at critical panic stage all I need to do is to lay my hands on his warm and soft fur and instantly I feel the calm begin. When I can't sleep, the sound of his breathing, (and snoring) and the rhythm of his chest are soothing like counting sheep or clouds and it doesn't take long and I fade in to slumber land.
When I am struggling with an issue that seems unresolvable, I take my dogs and we go for a walk, rain or shine. No it doesn't solve the issue, I do but it's the walk and the comfort of the dogs with me that clears my head and allows me to think more clearly so that I can work out the solution on my own.
I'm not saying go get a dog, and certainly not telling you to get a pit bull! (Pit bulls are not dogs for just any one, and it takes a certain kind of person in the right home setting and situation to properly and responsibly own one.) I am simply saying it has worked for me.
If you think a dog might be able to help you before you leap in head first, try testing it out first. There are many ways to do this. Go to your local no-kill shelter, (I say no-kill because the concept that the dog you interacted with may be put down is enough to drive some of us to the brink of personal disaster!) or even to a friends house who owns a dog and focus in on your darkest spot, the one that never goes away, now pet that dog! Hug that dog! Let that dog do as he will! Lick face, hands and just let go of everything for a minute. With out words, tell that dog how much you hurt inside, how lonely you are, how misunderstood you feel. Let go of the darkness and the pain and let him take that away and replace it with unconditional love and true devotion. I'd like to hear about your results. So please leave comments and yes, I do read them even if I don't respond. I read every comment and feel every presence.

The Calm

It's been a while since my last entry. I call this pic The Calm because it makes me feel that way.
I have been in therapy for a long time and I have gained many things from it, one of these things is a tool box of simple things that I can pull out and use to help myself feel a bit better when my world becomes a storm inside. I use music and pictures, and light and sometimes I just scream out loud on my beach. Deep in the middle of a wind storm where no one can hear me.
A therapist that I trusted deeply once said with a chuckle, "Yes, You are a pretty complicated person!" and so it was.
I have had so many abusive and damaging relationships with men who simply could not understand me, who were very much intimidated by my complicated mind that they were reduced to the primitive solution, kick my ass. I have many scars but they only add character and give me something to talk about when I am around strangers that I have to make small talk with.
The real scars are inside and they are huge! I don't worry about them any more. Instead I worry about if my dog approves of the food I bought him, or if my sister is getting enough rest, or if I will remember to call my kid on time.
I still feel lost and very much alone but I know that those feeling are very real and that there will always be moments that they over whelm me and that I succumb to them. It's the other feelings that seem new or unfamiliar that I am still leery of. Like love and safety. I never know why or what and I never trust them when I feel them or something like them. I ask internal questions like, "What does this person want or why am I the one?" I always look for the answer or something a clue to tell me that it's not real or that it's not my real. When I do find something I explode it and use it to drive away that person and those feelings, so that they can't hurt me or worse, and oh yes, there is worse.
I am the icon in the text book for, "Abandonment Issues" and I know that.
I have spent a life time being my own thing, learning to avoid relationships that I can't understand and have no control over. I have fine tuned the art of solo. I give very little of myself these days and my reasoning is very clear, people take and then they take and then they leave you with less than when you arrived. That's not it though, it's what they take that is. You can't just let people take all those little pieces of you that you can never get back and expect to ever feel like a whole person one day. You only have so much to give, before your all tapped out. Then what? Seems there is no answer to that so to be safe I am keeping what's left until I know with out a doubt that the person receiving my precious pieces will know their value and hold them with the respect and the appreciation that they deserve. You should do the same.

Loving yourself.

Sure looks funny up there doesn't it? Yes, all your life you are taught to be kind and generous and to help others and to respect authority. Don't be greedy or self centered. Don't always think of yourself, share and share alike.... bla bla bla. Where does loving yourself come in to play in all this?! Is that not a selfish act in it's self? Would be good to hear some one elses in put on this subject.
I have 2 followers on this blog. 2 people out there are aware they are depressed?
I think that the 3 of us are feeling depressed because we were born a bit ahead of the pack and we know what's really going on. We are capable of a whole different perspective of the world we live in and the direction the other humans/lemmings are all headed. 
My other favorite activity is to study the others in depth. I watch them all the time from my perch.
They scurry around rushing to and from home and work never noticing me, they are sad and happy and they are following the path that's been cut by many generations of lemmings before them. They never question why they act this way or why nothing ever really changes. They are content to march the same path every day.
The best ones are those trying to self medicate because they caught a glimpse of the hidden trail that runs parallel to the path. They don't quite understand yet the glimpse was big enough to fuck them up pretty good.It's those that get me. I can't help them and truthfully I don't want to. Why should I no one did that for me, I was just smart enough to figure it out before it was to late.
My question is, what do I do with all the knowledge I have gained? Am I saving myself or something much worse?

Endless Sadness

Just so you who suffer from chronic depression know, there are many of us out here feeling just as alone as you are right now.  We are crying and the darkness has us in it's grasp as well. I know you. I see you every day when I look in the mirror. I feel you there hurting and suffering there in your darkness. You are wondering if any one else gives a fuck? You are wishing that it would all go away. You sleep to avoid and you run when you feel over whelmed. You feel hopeless and alone. You are sure no one else can feel you or knows how you suffer. No one can understand. I can't tell you how many times I have felt the same exact way. I can't say what is inside because the fear won't allow me that freedom. No you are not alone. You just can't see that from there. Why not share your pain and test the grounds with me, someone who knows where you are and probably the only one who feels what you feel? Maybe we can help each other.