The Road to Healing?

So my friend alluded to in the last post apologized to me. Things got too big and she disappointed other people she really respects with this, and was basically brought down to her knees in the situation. I'm not sure that she would have felt bad if there weren't other people involved. I think she would have. It's all so confusing. I don't know what all her motivations are. I feel like we can't be honest with each other anymore. There are too many things at stake for us. I can't tell her things about my feelings and my life because she has lost my trust. I don't trust her to treat my feelings kindly. I don't trust her to not use the information against me. She says she didn't mean the things she said in the outburst, but I don't know if I believe her. Those thoughts have to have come from somewhere. She seems to have a lot of unkind thoughts about me lately.

I'm so tired. I want her to notice how little she knows about me lately. Those nine kinds of pain I wasn't in last week, when I was in shock? I'm in them now. I think that seeing her today for the first time since the big blowup brought out my feelings of hurt, and I am realizing how deep she cut. I have this horrible, codependent way of always wanting to get rid of conflict and smooth things over, and say things are OK even if they aren't, so that everyone can be happy (except me, but I get a buzz off of others' happiness). This time I'm not allowing myself to be OK with how things went down. I've forgiven her, and I'm not angry, but I'm very hurt, and I've made it clear to her that we need to work through those issues, instead of me just ignoring my hurt and saying it's OK. This is all very foreign to me. I don't like it. I want to just say it's all OK. I want to just have happy conversations and interactions and forget about this. I want her to be comfortable, even though she hurt me so much. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, she cut a little too deep this time, and I can't just forget it. And, honestly, those who know what happened are keeping me accountable, because they have all made it clear that they think I would not be healthy if I just let this be swept under the rug. Nothing like some peer pressure to make you try to do things right. I don't like this. This feels like the hard way. I feel like we've been getting nowhere for so long, I'm scared to try to keep working at it. Trying to keep working at it got me here. She said horrible things. I was trying everything I could think of. I don't want to fight with her anymore. I'm tired of seeing that pinched look on her face, because I frustrate her so much and she dislikes interacting with me so much.

I love her so dearly. I wish that she could feel that way more often about me.

Wherein My Therapist Tells Me I am Not the Crazy One

Things have not been going well at work. Won't go into details here. Suffice it to say that I had a long period where I wasn't functioning very well at all with the depression. And my boss will not forgive it, and thinks the concept of forgiveness, or absolving an employee of past wrongs is not acceptable. Because heaven forbid that someone who screwed up big time and is punishing herself and struggling all on her own is given a break by other people. Let's make sure the pain is all around, constant, and never relents. Until you either die or have a breakdown at work and quit in a messy painful way. Sounds like a solid plan.

Today, things kind of came to a head. Someone I respect, admire, and aspire to be like in some ways told me how little they think of me. I'm still in shock. I can't believe she said the things she did. I talked over the impending meeting with my therapist this morning, and she told me that the person has classic bully characteristics. I'm not trying to see her like that. I have not been describing incidents with her to people to try to make her wrong. I've been trying to figure out what I might be doing wrong, or could do differently. I've been trying to figure out how to repair things between us. I've been trying to figure out what it is she wants to see that I'm not showing her. My therapist told me that I was handling things well, and it sounds like she is the one handling it with emotion, and not dealing with it objectively. I wonder if her therapist would tell her the same thing.

I want so badly for things to be fixed. I don't know if they can be. I think that the relationship may be permanently damaged. I don't know if it would be healthy to want to be her friend if she did apologize. I doubt she will. Somehow, she maintains that the way she treated me and spoke to me today was justified. I can't just say that's OK, because it's not. I don't understand why she reacts the way she does to me. I don't understand why she doesn't seem to desire a resolution. I don't understand what is at the heart of this. I kind of feel like there's more to this than she is admitting. I don't understand where this is coming from.

I feel so numb. Normally I would be feeling nine kinds of pain. I think that I've been feeling it so much the last few weeks that this incident is just keeping the pain at the high level I've learned to function at. I feel like I've got some magical wall up to protect me from this pain. I know this is the heartbreaking kind. I have no idea where we go from here. I don't even know how to look her in the eye. I don't want to see what is there. How could she think so little of me and trust me so little.

When the Loneliness Gets Real

When someone you love tells you that loving you isn't enough--that they need to move on--the pain is deafening. It's numbing. Life gets unreal. It all feels like a sick joke. And this is ON the meds. I am so, so alone. Friends can't fill his place. Nothing they, or you, or anyone says can make it better. And I don't want to hear anything anyone has to say on this. I don't want to tell my friends, because I don't want to hear them say he's not good enough, or that they knew it, or that there's someone better, or why they think we don't work. I don't want them to agree with me when I say that he's a jerk. I don't want to hear the cold hard facts. I'm not stupid. I know everything they could tell me. But this has thrown me back into a place where I feel so incredibly, horribly isolated in a final, permanent, desperate sort of way. No amount of pep talks will help. In fact, they would just fill me with rage. So I won't tell anyone right now. And I will vent here. And I will turn off the comments, because I don't want to be commiserated with, or talked to at all about this. Not even from you. And I don't want to do this ever, ever again. Unless I can have him back. And I don't think I need to worry about it because no one will be there for me to try with. And I don't want to see him, or talk to him, or smell him. And I want to see him, and talk to him, and smell him. And if I had the chance to see him, and talk to him, and smell him, I would sabatoge it and say something full of venom and push him far away, and be that icy woman he has accused me of. And it would all be because I opened my heart and trusted him and showed him really vulnerable parts of myself, because he said I could trust him, when he didn't really mean that I could trust him, unless things were easy and fun and he was satisfied. Those are the terms to his love. And maybe if I weren't me, I would be enough for him. And maybe if I weren't me, it would be worth it to him to work through the hard stuff, because maybe the thought of not having me in his life would mean something to him.

Valleys of Sorrow.

Since my last post I have been through what I can safely say is the most hellish bout of depression I have ever had. My whole life seemed close to crumbling. I got pretty close to ruining it in some major ways. I don't want to go into details here, but just rest assured, almost every facet of my life was touched.

I finally went to my doctor, and switched meds. Life is so much better. I won't say it all had to do with the meds. I worked hard to get out of that horrible valley. I agonized and prayed and talked and did what needed to be done. But the meds have unfogged my head. I feel hope. I feel life might bring happy things.

I would never wish that kind of anguish on anyone. I know I am not alone in feeling deep anguish. And I know that depression is not the only thing to bring it. I dread the day I lose a parent or other close loved one to death. I have seen the anguish of close friends over horrible circumstances in their lives. The only thing I can hope is that my faith will see me through, and that God will bring me comfort. Through all that anguish, I know He was there, loving me. I still don't understand why He wouldn't lift it from my shoulders when I first asked. But I do believe it was Him that lifted it. I think I've probably taken some deep lessons away that will aid me in the future. I know it deepened my empathy. I pray I never feel so wretched again.

Misery

Today I feel pretty miserable. My friend got engaged. She texted my other friend to tell her, but not me. I found out in a really off-hand way. It was not a great start to my day. I need to learn to let these tings go. I feel so wounded. And sad. I love her, but she doesn't seem to feel that I am very important. She's always doing this. She told me a while ago she was reprioritizing, and led me to believe she had realized she needed to value me more. Now I'm thinking maybe not. Or maybe it was just a day. I don't know.

Changing as You Grow Older

I have known women who have said that they have grown more emotional with motherhood. I'm beginning to think that maybe part of it is just being a woman. Period. And having hormones. And having them change, even slightly.

I hate crying. I hate crying in front of people. And yet, I am now known as a weeper at work. This is not a good thing. This is not respected, tolerated, or looked upon as okay in my current work culture. Plus, I don't like crying in front of people and showing that weakness.

Why does my body feel the urge to showcase those emotions? Why can't I just be all unapproachable, or something more respected. Grr. Must figure out how to stop crying. I think it might start with not caring. I need to care less. That sounds like work.

Letting Myself Be Happy

My meds are much better. My friendships are all in good places. Conflicts with friends that were breaking my heart are resolved. I have a great guy I'm dating who just told me he loves me (although I feel a wee bit too fast... we've only been dating for about two months). I feel sad. I shouldn't feel sad. I shouldn't be feeling dissatisfied with the guy. I shouldn't be feeling that I want more from the friendships. I shouldn't be sad.

For crying out loud.

I need to get back to counseling. I don't want to. Also, I am broke. That is a legitmate source of stress this week. I am so stinking broke. Like, bursting at the seams, I am in debt, should pay attention to my budget because avoidance doesn't make it better broke. I think there is chicklit about this. And I am pretty sure reading about this girl did not so much amuse me as make me super anxious. But I digress. The point is, I need counseling, but I need to be able to pay for it...

At least, that was the point of that paragraph.

My real point is, I should be happy. This is the time when I should move forward. Embrace life. Be thankful that there are times when it gets better. When the meds work. When people love me back. When I get what I want and all that junk.

I really am an Eeyore. I don't want to be anymore. Why can't I be all Pollyanna and be Glad and stuff. I'm like Pollyanna after she broke her back or whatever.

So seriously, can't figure out why I can't let myself be happy. I mean, we could go with the answer about how I'm afraid to let myself be happy because I"ll end up getting hurt or something. And I'm sure that plays into it. But why can't I just enjoy the good feeling today. What is my deal?

Sleeeep

For the love. Just when I thought my sleep was almost kind of healthy (ie, I woke up in the morning at about the same time, and often earlier, which, while annoying, felt closer to healthy than previous sleep patterns), and I have a night of no sleep. I was awake until 4am this morning. I tried to fall asleep throughout the night and was just sooo wide awake that I gave up a few times and sat up and did a few things online to try to bring on the drowsiness through some activity. Nope. Didn't work. I finally started feeling like I could find sleep at about 4 and I was able to fall asleep finally. And then of course I slept through church completely. I loved my bed today. When I woke up today my bed was so, so comfortable, and I was so content. That is much better than waking up to anxiety like I was doing earlier this year. I didn't want to get out of bed but I had dinner at my parents. Before that I was enjoying a supremely lazy day in my jammies. Which sounds nice except for the immense guilt of missing church. Again. 

I hope that I can sleep tonight. I wish that I could just stay up all night and sleep in my bed all cozy tomorrow though. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to be reminded of the life I have that seems to be going nowhere, and that seems to be so much about how alone I am. 

alone

I am so tired of being alone. I am so alone. I hate how alone I am. I hate that when I am feeling lonely my way of reaching out for human contact is over instant message. I hate that I don't feel like I can call my friends. Hanging out is out of the question. They are busy with their lives. They have things to do. They have all suggested that I should find some people to hang out with. What the hell are they, if I can't hang out with them. In their minds, we're friends, but I need OTHER friends to hang out with. What is that? What makes them think other people will want to spend that much time with me if they don't want to.

One of my friends did not look well when she left work today. I was really worried about her, and checked in with her to make sure she got home ok. And it made me think, I want to be checked in on. I'm not ok. No one is checking in on me. I want someone to worry. I could die in this apartment and I'm not sure how long it would take someone to come check on me.

When Will It Get Better?

I've been trying so hard to get out of this pit-like place I am in. I've tried all kinds of vitamins, I'm talking with my doctor, I'm trying to make plans and I'm trying to stop all the negative thought. I am on the hunt for a new therapist. Okay, I haven't been exercising overmuch. I've been trying to make myself get outside and get sunshine. I've tried that whole be optimistic about your day, think positive thing. It's exhausting. I am failing. I am just so sad. I recognize I have no good reason, but the feeling just weighs me down. Sad, and/or anxious. I'm tired of it. I've prayed for relief and gotten small snippets. I've had moments of clarity where I've felt balanced and believed my life was not so bad. Those moments will not stay. My friends are all too far away or too busy. Everyone has their own lives and they can only give me so much. I try not to be crazy about demanding from them.

I feel gross. I don't want to go to work tomorrow. I've tried giving myself mental health days and it's not working. I still don't want to be at work. I have never been so unproductive and cared so little before at this job. I'm going to care when it all comes crashing down.

Make it stop.

Where is My Sickness-Powered Artistry?

I've always loved writing. My sort-of-secret aspiration is to write a book; to be a published author. I say sort-of-secret, because in high school I did not hide it. I would have told people. I did tell people. People knew I liked to write. I was the one who would write letters, notes, and long thoughtful ponderings and pass them to friends. I loved having written interaction. I loved expressing myself. But now, as an adult, my friends don't really know how important writing is to me. I don't share this blog address with people. I do have a blog that I share with my friends, though. I loved that avenue of expression. I loved having friends read it and give me feedback and tell me things they liked that I had said, and all that stuff. It aggravated me (and still does) when friends told me (which at least two have) "I don't read blogs." Really??? I'm not asking you to read blogs. I'm asking you to read one. Mine. It can come to your email account and you can pretend it's just an email. Yeah, I'm still really, really bitter about that. And when one of those friends referred to themselves as a writer today, like they are in the club, and clearly have not clued in that I write, and so they have to explain the club to me, it aggravates me even more.

This aggravation led to the pondering: aren't I supposed to be all artistically inspired in all my darkness and turmoil? Isn't that what people always talk about in TV shows and on postsecret and in books and whatever? That they don't want to take the meds because they feel all real and able to express themselves in deep, deep ways when they give themselves to their mental illness? I would like to know why I don't get to have that experience. My depression is like a big damp, uncomfortable blanket squashing me down and making me feel too weak to do anything, let alone get all deep and expressive. I have written so little lately. I feel like a different person. I think my little author pilot light has died. I can't seem to reignite it. So... why is it nice to be off meds? I can't even find my groove on them....

Cry, cry, cry.

I've been crying too much lately. One close friend suggested that getting a hobby was the solution. Coolgirl told me today that I need to relax. Um, really? Hmmm... hadn't thought of that. And now I have more flaws that my friends apparently see in me. Can't I just get credit for surviving all the crap this year? Because I don't want a hobby right now. I want an apartment. And I would like to know The Roommate is alive. She hasn't been home in a week and a half now. Haven't seen her in about 2 and a half weeks. I must be really horrible to be around.

Meltdown

Today was the Great Melt Down. I've been waiting for it to happen. Thought the worrying and slightly ooky feeling was the worst of it. But, no. The worst of it came while I was standing in my office. I had already gotten through one emotional moment, where my emotional-ness was nicely covered by crankiness. I took a step back, realized I was about to rip some poor unsuspecting person's head off, and went and found a quiet place to say a little prayer, asking God to help me find perspective and not take my issues out on the lovely people I work with, and for me to not misdirect my hurt feelings towards them because it made me feel worse. So having redirected my feelings, I proceeded to melt down. And had to go hide again. Okay, didn't HAVE to, but chose to because I don't like to cry in front of people, and how mortifying to melt down at work. Also Coolgirl said something a while ago about how she didn't believe that I don't cry often, which mortified me. So now I have the urge to hide my tears from her whenever possible because she doesn't seem to appreciate me randomly starting to cry in her office. Plus I haven't cried as much lately, having sent the boundaries letter and taken care of that stuff. But I think this is the next wave.

This is the part where I have to really start realizing in a more real way that Red is fine with not seeing me. That I am not a priority. That his expressions of love were often, if not always, tools to get what he wanted. I have to acknowledge that he is okay with me hurting, and doesn't really have room in his head for thinking about any one's feelings but his own. I have to continually remind myself that I was not a good friend for taking care of him. And if that is true, doesn't that mean that I'm a bad friend? But not being the friend I have been for him feels like abandonment. Only somehow I"m still the one getting abandoned. Because I am not worth what I thought I was to him.

To coincide with all this loveliness Roomie is still not really speaking to me. I have Hurt her. She is a Victim. I am a Bad Friend. I'm still slightly irritated with her for making herself the Victim in all this instead of actually trying to communicate and feed our friendship and help it grow. But if I'm being honest with myself, I'm also feeling like a horrible friend. For being self-centered enough to back away from her because her codependency issues and her passive-aggressiveness were only hurting me. But I feel like I should have been a better friend. I should have told her. I should have had the guts to tell her that she was hurting me. Even though she wouldn't have heard it. Even though it would have just been another fight. Even though I have tried to in the past. I feel like I'm doing to her what my old BFF did to me. I'm abandoning her. I will say something, of course, and I don't want to end the friendship. But that is how she will view it.

I'm a bad friend. I'm losing friends left and right. I found myself having to stop myself from freaking out on Coolgirl today over every small perceived slight I have ever imagined. Then, having stopped myself, I sat crying silently in her office and not letting her in. I feel like she can only be getting incredibly tired of me and my waterworks. She has to be finally realizing how annoying I can be. This is the part where she will set boundaries to keep from getting too close to my drama. That can be the only explanation for her allowing me in her office but not engaging in discussing my feelings. These are the thoughts in my head. Coolgirl would quite possibly lose patience with me for them and point out the huge flaws in this path of thought. But it was all I could think today, and it felt too pathetic to voice it so she could help me see my erroneous thought pattern. I don't want her to think I'm pathetic. I think she already does. She has no patience for the way I hold onto Red and Roomy, and the guilt and self-flagellation. I feel like I need to address how I'm feeling. I just have a hard time finding the line between self-abuse and feeling your feelings.

My close friend who gave me the Codependent No More book is texting me and giving me all kinds of healthy thoughts. Like that I am not rejecting my friends, just their unhealthy behavior, and that I am not saying I won't be their friend, just that I can't subject myself to their toxicness.

Sad.

Today I am sad. Usually when I'm sad it's triggered by something, but today, I just wanted to stay in bed all day. I didn't feel well last night. I was nauseous, and I thought I was going to throw up. I've been feeling just a teeny bit gross all week. This morning, because the nausea kept me up last night, I was tired, and ooky feeling, and I didn't want to go to work. So I didn't. I called in sick. And I slept pretty much all the day. And I want to sleep more now. But I"m not tired. I think I could talk myself into thinking I'm tired. But I would wake up at 2am and not be able to sleep and feel more crappy from the excess in sleep.

I'm very rambley today. I don't think my state of sadness is helped by watching Grey's. Poor George.

It's been a while since I've logged into this blog, and I couldn't remember the address. So I did a search, and I ran across a Sad Girl blog, with no entries. And the profile said one word. Dead. Sad. I hope sadgirl is not really dead.

I was thinking just the other day that I was feeling good, and that I should blog. Because even though this blog is kind of about my depression, it should include the good days. Because there are a lot of good days. But the only days I feel like I have anything to say are the crappy days.

I've been a little big sad all week. Today was kind of the culmination of it. I thought it was because I was being all girly and hormoney. Which I was. But that part should be subsiding for the month, if ya know what I mean. Nothing specific has been coming to mind today, or this week, when I try to figure out where the sad is coming from. So I thought it was just hormones. But then, just now, blogging, I was trying to think what in my life was sad right now. My brain was going to that, what do you have to be sad about right now place. That, you ungrateful snot stop wallowing place. And then I realized that my best friend is leaving. Not that I didn't know that. But he's not gone yet, so I've been avoiding it. My best friend, who also happens to be the man I am in love with who broke my freaking heart, is leaving. He knows I don't want him to. He's going because he needs a job, which I have to support. Supposedly he's coming back to go to school in a year. But he's always changing his mind. Also he does idiotic risky things. And I think he's an alcoholic. I'm pretty sure he is. So what if he doesn't come back? One of these days he won't come back. I think between the alcoholism, and the chain smoking, and the stupid risks, he's trying to kill himself. But not in a direct way, because he thinks that is cowardly. But somehow if he goes big, it's manly. And that's stupid. And if I weren't so sad, I would be mad at him. But that's for another day.

Is a Little Empathy Too Much to Ask For?

Today I am lamenting over friends who just don't understand. If you're clinically depressed, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the friends who think you are lazy, that you need to buck up. Those friends who, regardless of how many times you have explained the many symptoms of depression, think it's just about being sad.

Yes, there is sadness. There is also anger, anxiety, lack of concentration, too much sleep, too little sleep, too much hunger, too little hunger.... but it's not just sloth and gluttony. Yes, I still have my free will. But the problem is, when I wake up in the morning (or afternoon, or evening), I don't want to be conscious. It hurts. I'm not necessarily talking body aches and pains, although it seems like sometimes I do wake up with a headache or general physical ickiness that makes me want to retreat back into my dreams. I'm talking about an all-consuming sorrow. It's as if I've woken up to realize that my best friend has died. Fortunately this is not the case. But it's that magnitude of grief on the bad days, and I don't always know why. And yes, sometimes when I get up, and pass that threshold of pain upon first waking, I realize there is no real source of the sadness. Sometimes I do buck up, and feel better, and thank the heavens for the beautiful day. But sometimes I just wish, all day long, that I hadn't listened to the voice of reason that told me I should get up.

Sometimes anxiety consumes me, and I spend the whole day chasing my thoughts about a stressful situation around and around in my head. It's not the useful sort of thinking, where I contemplate solutions, and rational decisions are made. It's the kind of thinking that slowly deteriorates into totally irrational thoughts. At the beginning of the day, I might be thinking about how my best friend has not been online this month, and the fact that he sometimes marks himself as showing offline to get work done. By the end of the day, I've convinced myself that he has marked himself offline to avoid me, and that something I said at some point offended me. I've convinced myself that he doesn't really like me at all, and just puts up with me for his wife's sake. I've convinced myself that I should have seen this last year, and I start to see patterns in his behavior. And the hard thing is, because I seem to be less observant when I am my most depressed, I might have in reality have offended him and not noticed it. So I tell myself this is anxiety, and that I am being irrational, and I talk to this friend, and he assures me it is not personal. But I don't believe him. Because I've seen a pattern. And I have a tendency to expect the worst. Because why would anyone want to be friends with me? I bug the crap out of myself.

This is the week I've had. I have a close friend who refuses to help me wake up for church, which I keep sleeping through, and which is important to me. She seems to think that the fact that I sleep through it is an indicator that I am not as devoted to my faith as she is. She seems to think that I am choosing not to go to church because sleep is more important. In reality, my sleep schedule is so messed up I don't know where to start to fix it. I'm not working right now, so a bedtime is a little silly. There is nothing to wake up for the next day. Even when I try to correct my schedule, my thoughts race and my hearts race and my muscles ache. I cannot sleep when I want to. When I do manage to relax and go to sleep, I sleep for far too long, and I fight wakefulness, for the reasons described above. So when Sunday rolls around, it is doubly hard to rouse myself at the right time, and get myself to church. And when I do succeed in attending, all of the people annoy me, and all the happiness makes me want to wretch. In my rational mind, I see that they are, for the most part, not annoying. And that I am incredibly angry. And that no one understands, which makes me hate them more.

So, dear friend, I say to you here, where you will never read: educate yourself. If you have a depressed friend, it might be me. And I am telling you, your inability to show compassion makes me feel that much more freakish. Learn about the symptoms, maybe watch a movie or two, and try to put yourself in my shoes. I already am disgusted enough with myself. I don't need your judgement.