Coming out

I'd apologize for not writing, but its taken me a while to figure out what to say, and how I could stay truthful to me, and to you, and to not become totally vulnerable out here, naked on the inter-webs, all emotionally exposed. Its taken me a while to figure out how to come out.

No, not that kind of coming out–that would be posted on the other blog anyway. That's already been done a long, long time ago. No, now I am coming out about something else. Its been with me for a very long time, I have run… and run… and run from it, but well wouldn't you know it, I can't run any more. I am tired, I am sore, I am sick and I am tired. And I am depressed.
IMG_0243
Clinically depressed actually. Onset as a young person, 12 is when I was first diagnosed. I feel like it has been with me all of my life, mostly lurking in the shadows, mostly manageable with positive thinking (or so I told myself), praying to my boyfriend Jesus (who always answers prayer), and perhaps some other (I won't even get into them) unhealthy diversions. Occasionally it would flair up and knock me down–mostly brought on by understandable events or a bad monthly visit from Aunite you-know-who-red-friend-annoying-pants. But now it is kicking my ass, dragging me kicking and screaming into the dark corners of ugly bits and parts of me, the hard places that I have avoided or have learned how to survive in because I had to. Now, the survival techniques are no longer working.

These are broken Like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, at the opera, with her opera glasses flailing I say "these are broken, mine are broken!" These old patterns, these old glasses, are not serving me any longer. I have hit what appears to be bottom (G-d, please let this be bottom).

Today I went looking for a card for dear friends who are moving away. I went to my favorite little shop that always seems to have exactly the right card, CorAzoN. Browsing, I found this paperweight, and thought to myself "Yes. I that can be me." I am ready to make this come true–living a better me, joy filled, healthy, and better equipped to deal with depression, perhaps even free from it. Who knows. Possibility abounds.

Happy are those who dream dreams and are ready to pay the price to make them come true.

Amen. I am ready, I have hope, I have friends, I have faith, I have me. And that is a good place to start.

Advertisements

11 thoughts on “Coming out

  1. I was first diagnosed with this at 25 or so. It’s been a long strange trip but I’m still on it. Grace of God and lots of good people and meds, and new survival techniques and more of those, and then more. It’s a hell of a road. Sorry that you are a sister tripper….well met.

  2. This is me, your sister who loves you more than everything (even Desi- which is saying A LOT) giving you a long distance {{{{{{hug}}}}}}}}. You will get through it. I know it, and well, let’s be honest; I know everything ;).
    Love x a zillion million,
    Cassie

  3. I’m on that road, too. It is exhausting, yet the end of your post seemed to say you’re eager to go on. Counseling and finding a medication that fits has pulled me away from the brink and the dark places. I think you’ll find lots of company on the way back to the light.
    Alison

  4. I’m sending my prayers for this part of your journey: it is a painful place to be but the pills, therapy and friends plus the grace of God get us through. I’m on this road too. Pax et bonum to you

  5. If anyone was wondering what grace and kindness looks like–you all are it. The Lutherans got nothin on you. So grateful.
    And
    And also with you.
    Mucho love.

  6. I think more of us are than are not.
    I love you.
    I could also be the poster child for Lexapro.
    If I do not have the money for my prescription, my co-workers SWEAR they will buy it for me.
    ~grins~
    For reals.

  7. CorAzoN has always been great. It would be equally great if the positive thinking and the sheer force of will were always enough, but sooner or later it’s not, and then you need to go to the doctor and do what’s best with a friend holding your hand if that’s what you need, or alone if that’s what you need — A poet, maybe Rilke or Roethke, said once that depression is the absence of God — feeling isolated and cut off from God — and you know that God is always out there and it’s only we who become lost and feel so alone. You need your people around you, to kick you in the pants when needed and to encourage and love you; and you’ll make it. Peace be with you.

  8. Sending you hugs across the ocean. I believe that your bravery is a match for your depression. I’m glad you “came out” with this, and I hope you can get some feeling of support from it – because there are a lot of people out here who want to help, even if just by listening.

  9. You, my courageous friend, are totally in my prayers.
    Does Wendy need some cash? 🙂
    I miss ALL of you.
    Love and BIG SQUISHY HUGS!
    B

Comments are closed.