I apologize for not keeping up my depression blog. To be honest, its hard to journal about your current state without acknowledging and explaining the past 14 months. However to share my story to the fullest, my entry resembles the length of a novel. Basically, my blog’s purpose is to help other individuals battling this incapacitating disease. If I get a large number of comments from people truly using this blog for support, I think I’ll open a website so everyone can post their stories and ask for feedback. If you’re depressed, you can truly understand the essentiality of encouragement and backing of others.
So last night was one of those happy/sad days intertwined. I went to work for a few hours before being summoned by a friend for lunch, and keeping company while running errands. We eventually ended up at his mom’s house, who I have only known a few months but completely adore. She’s one of those incredibly sweet, nurturing, picture perfect mothers we all wish we had. I’ve spent Halloween and Thanksgiving with their family, and truly felt very welcomed and comfortable with them…and the greatest thing…they adore me…which is non-existent in my family—the black sheep so to speak. My friend left to run an errand and I stayed behind to carry on healthy conversation with her. For a good 15 minutes, I teared with her as she told me the hardships of her divorce and terrible husband who turned out to be not so loyal, and instead cheated on her numerous times. I couldn’t even fathomed why any human being in their right mind would cheat on wife, who worked, raised the kids, and performed yard work tasks, while he’s out on the green golfing. But her story wasn’t about regret or sadness, but rather her amazing struggle to independence. She shared the tough times, the moments when survival was tested, when she challenged her own strength and ability to conquer the pain. Eventually we moved to the living and somehow managed to reveal that I was currently on anxiety medication. She asked what kind, and questioned “an anti-depressant”. Me, being a person who just cannot lie to ANYONE, said yes, but please don’t tell her son. Of course, she explained. Evidently she must have been on some medication through her own battle and said, “it was meds or suicide.” That’s when I broke down, feeling exactly what she must have felt. The amazing point and something I truly take to heart and believe, she said that nobody can really understand the magnitude of pain, unless they themselves have been there, which seemed to be the perfect words, considering my anger towards my one friend who’s been there through this whole destruction. She came and held me, saying you poor thing, which of course made me cry even harder. My friend returned and we all went to say goodbye, and she just kept hugging and kissing me, which felt so nice and needed so desperately. Once in her living room, she said if I ever needed to talk, give her a call…reassuring her offer. Then as we left, she hugged me again and said that I SHOULD call her and we’d get together and talk. She kept shooting these compassionate looks of concern and care, which soothed me inside, needing that feeling of love. I think I even once revealed to her, “I just want a mother for one week.” You see, my mother was never around, working during the day and isolating herself in her bedroom at night, perhaps mostly because of their divorce. As a child, I found myself cooking my own dinners, getting myself off to school, basically taking care of everyone else, no time to comfort or think about myself. I turned into the perfectionist and overachieving student, who loved honors classes, community involvement (finding myself officers of over 12 student and community organizations), and found my love through my teachers, being teacher’s pet. Most of them to this day, I still have contact, for they were my parents through my formative years, my guidance, my mentors recognizing my talent and encouraging me to become the successful person I am today. However, my beautiful world, came crashing down my freshmen year in college and believe that’s where my depression stemmed. Somehow, with help of friends and of course the great times college ensures, I made it through the four years rather excellently, and now have my bachelor’s, a big deal for me since no one in my family EVER went to college nor do they think its important. But something inside of me went wrong when I returned home. Not sure if it’s because I still live with her and it brings back horrible memories or what, but I started having these breakdowns, crying fests, thoughts of suicide and complete hopelessness. I went to a trusted friend/teacher who I stayed in contact with all through college and made a point of seeing on my breaks. Now this person, let’s call her Mother Earth, became the one I instilled my confidence in. How it all came about is still a blurry vision. I remember my last quarter in college, the last 2 weeks exact before I graduated, I called her up and after a long time meaning to get together, I proposed we went to the ocean for a night for some good bonding time and a chance to celebrate my graduation and her retirement from teaching. The trip began rough, with Mother Earth forgetting about the trip, which stabbed me in the heart and left feeling so disappointed since I had been counting down the days to get away. She immediately packed her bags and wrapped up her errands and we were off, although I must admit, I wanted so badly to walk away, leaving her, and accepting she just never cared enough. Gosh, I sit back and think perhaps I’ll wait a day to finish the beginning of the story. Odd really….finish the beginning. Oh I love irony!