| Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. Keep talking, keep writing, spread yourself all over this net if you can't speak out loud. |
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| This is a war you are witnessing. I am bloodied from the battle in my own mind. I am still undefeated, but I do not feel victorious. Truthfully, it is far more compelling to put down my sword and shield and lie here in this cold damp battlefield until the horses trample me to oblivion. But I cannot let this disease kill me. Or us. I must fight this because it is an unfair war. We never chose to engage in this battle. We were attacked without provocation under the cover of darkness. I am defending the right of a peaceful people to live without this torture. |
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| We have fought this battle before and won. We can do it again. We can, we can, we can, she says until she thinks she has convinced herself. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. Don't stop trying and don't ask to be carried, because there's no one listening. |
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| Focus on the good things. Good things still happen when you are depressed, you just can't see them anymore. Pulled my marbles together yesterday to finally email tesserae in response to her most recent journal entry, and I'm glad I did. It made my whole week that she wrote back. She's somewhat of a hero to us (yes, I know she's only a person like anyone else, but she is the kind of person I aspire to be, and isn't that what heroes are made of?). |
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| At a loss for more words right now. My mind gets tired too quickly, as does my body. |
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| About ten hours later: Okay I finally feel like talking again, a little. Note to self(ves): YOU WILL FEEL BETTER AFTER FIVE O'CLOCK. Whenever you hear me pleading that I will not be able to make it through one more day, remind me of this, please! Remind me that what threatens to kill me by day will leave me feeling merely sad, tired, and confused by the time the Cleaver men are saying "honey I'm home!". When I am feeling suicidal I do not remember this. When I am feeling suicidal I cannot think of ANYTHING except how much I hurt and how much I either want revenge or death or both. Like all feelings, it waxes and wanes. Unfortunately, I can probably say with certainty that at nine o'clock tomorrow morning I will again be staring into space dreaming of ways I can make "it" look like an accident and debating checking myself in. And PLEASE don't tell me I'm being negative... I can say this because Lysergia and I have been down this road before. We're learning the how the patterns of depression manifest in our particular body/mind (it's a little different for everyone, although the pain, I suspect, is the same). For us, it seems that mornings are the utmost in mental torture, afternoons lend to strange thought patterns and lots of switching, early evenings provide the most lucidity, mid-evenings the panic sets in, and bedtime is switchy time again. Sleep time is either totally restful and amnestic or fitfully broken with nightmares and memories. |
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| I'm writing this mostly so that I can stare at it tomorrow when I think for sure that this time I'm gonna die and that it just WON'T get better. I don't want to give anybody the impression that come 5:00 all is peachy... it's a real far cry from peachy. It sucks big time. I'm still not functional in even the slackest definition, but I'm not obsessing about dying either. It's a real deep-to-the-bone sadness I can't shake no matter how much "fun" I try to have or how "positively" I try to reframe my thoughts. It makes me so tired I want to lay down all the time. It confuses my brain when I try to think too hard or too long about something. It takes the words from my mouth when I want to say something. But I know I can LIVE through it, and I can convince myself that the meds will help (if we ever freakin get them!) |
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| I'm still pretty scared, though, that one of these days I'll totally lose myself in morning mode. Or that someone will come out to "do the deed". I just have to keep talking and have faith that we will get help before then. |
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| Six more days. |
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| - Nikki |
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The winter here's cold, and bitter
it's chilled us to the bone
we haven't seen the sun for weeks
to long too far from home
I feel just like I'm sinking
and I claw for solid ground
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
oh darkness I feel like letting go
If all of the strength and all of the courage
come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
full of grace
full of grace
my love
So it's better this way, I said
having seen this place before
where everything we said and did
hurts us all the more
its just that we stayed, too long
in the same old sickly skin
I'm pulled down by the undertow
I never thought I could feel so low
oh darkness I feel like letting go
If all of the strength
and all of the courage
come and lift me from this place
I know I could love you much better than this
full of grace
full of grace
my love
- Full of Grace, Sarah McLachlann
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