Random musings about depression

You know how, sometimes, when things are bad, all you can see is the bad in your life? The bills that are barely paid, the random groceries that make no sense together, but you cant afford to go to the store, the things that you need, yet have no idea how you will get them… Anyway, whatever bad thing you deal with, and you start to beat yourself up, and just wanting to quit?

Yeah, I’ve been there the last few days, and it sucks (I’ve told y’all I’m bipolar, right?)

Thankfully, I have learned to see the cycle, but it makes it no easier, really, to keep a grasp on things, and not let myself sink into that warm, dark place, where I am worthless and the world would be better without me (hang on, I’m going somewhere, I promise). I have learned to truly picture the world without me, and, while most of you really wouldn’t notice (I’m no narcissist, for sure!) I know my babies would, and it would be hard for Chris to do all that I do, and still work, and be so far from family, but going back home is not an option, because all of Asa’s specialists are here, and none of the ones in Pensacola would care quite as much as the ones he has here do, and, besides that, I wouldn’t want his care to be sacrificed because I am having a weak moment, so I know I’ll push through for them.

I have also noticed that when I get like this, I lose focus on the struggles of others for a bit, and actually become jealous of those that seem to have it better than us at that moment, even if I know that they are struggling, too. It’s a crazy blindness, and it sucks. That is, until something happens to break through the dark curtain and pierce my heart for someone else.

Today, that happened, and I wish it hadn’t. Today, when I logged on, I saw that one friend, who just lost her aunt, lost her baby nephew after a long battle with cancer. Another friend, who has a very premature baby, watched yet another family lose their angel. He was so tiny. Another’s husband is struggling to survive.

I saw all of this, and started crying, not just for them, but for myself. How can I be so self-absorbed when my problems are really nothing compared to theirs?! Yes, I have problems, and they are real, and they suck major balls, but I will get through them, like I always do. God has carried me through some pretty dark places. But, I have today. I have my children, and they are happy, and healthy, and they are loved and loving. I have enough food for them to have their three meals today, maybe even a snack. I have gas in my car for Asa’s appointment, and the wheelchair van, while it is a need, it’s not an immediate, right now, need. It will be a few months, from what I understand, to get his power chair, and, if it has to stay parked in my living room until we save enough for a used van, or a down payment on something not quite as old as I am, it will work out, I don’t know how, just that it will.

My current problems will pass. They are nothing compared to watching my child die (and I pray daily for a cure for MD, so I don’t have to go through that. I am that selfish) or my husband struggle to survive, while I also worry about all of these things, since he’s the breadwinner, and if he didn’t make it, I’d really be in a spot, having to choose between my kids care and survival. I pray I never have to go through that, and that I can prevent him from going through it because I allowed my inner demons to win.

Today, I fight. I fight to regain a bit of happy, a bit of self-love. I fight to prove that I am stronger than those voices telling me I am weak and worthless. I fight to show my kids that they are worth living for. I know the demons will come back; they always do, but today I fight them, and that makes me just a bit stronger next time they rear their ugly little heads, and that’s all I can do.

 

Side Note: Some of you may wonder if I am on medications for depression of bipolar – I am not. I have tried several, but because my swings happen so sporadically, taking medications to equalize my moods tend to make me very blah, kind of robotic, and to not care at all. Basically, they take all the quirks that are me, and push them down to where I am a very numb person, and that, to me, and to my family, is worse than dealing with the cycles when they appear. On meds, I don’t care at all, like, if my house were on fire, and my kids were in it, I would take a nap. Without meds, I may be a bit erratic, not caring about some things, then blowing up next time it happens, but I feel, and it’s better to feel something than to feel nothing.

Advertisements