My heart is both heavy and uplifted tonight.
Whenever I hear of someone taking his or her own life, stranger or not-stranger, it hurts so hard because I have been there. I know that awful, aching feeling that you're alone. I know it down deep. And I just want to take their hand and tell them, "You're not alone. You don't have to fight this alone."
While I wish it didn't take a death for it to happen (similar to Philip Seymour Hoffman and the conversation around heroin overdose), it started a wonderful, deep, funny, sad conversation with a friend, and my Facebook feed is full of people standing up and saying "I've been there. You're not alone. I am here for you."
I imagine Robin Williams had a horrifyingly heavy burden...everyone expected him to be the funny guy so maybe he didn't feel like he could talk about what was really going on. I have been there: masking deep, dark emptiness with jokes and lightheartedness, fearing you'll scare people away or be a burden if you are real for even just a moment.
So I want to join the others in saying "I've been there. You're not alone. I am here for you." and offer an ear. If you need me to tell my bumblebee and ghost joke to make you laugh, I will. But if you just want to talk about sadness, or sit in silence with your sadness, I will listen and sit with you. Sometimes you just need someone to stare at the demons with you, rather than try to shoo them away with jokes or distractions.
You don't have to fight this alone.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
And a blog post I wrote last year called "Blue":
Blue
I've been on antidepressants for almost 6 years, and was depressed for a few years before that. Lately it's been compounded by recurrent health problems as well as big life changes. If I have a choice, I sleep most of the days away on the weekend, and spend the awake hours on the couch watching TV. Some mornings I'm late to work because I can't get myself out of bed. Part of this is because of my health issues...being constantly tired makes me tired of being tired and triggers depression, which makes me more tired, and around and around it goes.
There is so much stigma around depression. I try to be open about it, but I still find myself feeling vulnerable and paranoid about what others think of me. She's just a wimp. She just wants attention/sympathy. Everyone says they're depressed these days...something something Prozac Nation.
What the link above addresses is another one of those pervasive thoughts: She's just not trying hard enough. I know people who have successfully gone off of medications through diet and exercise changes, therapy, or sheer force of will. I am sincerely happy for them, but it really sucks to be the one "left behind," the one who can't pull herself up by the bootstraps.
There is certainly something to be said for thinking happy thoughts when you're down in the dumps. Expecting that to fix everything, however, is not helpful. Because when you try super hard to think those happy thoughts and are still sad, or you can't even muster any happy thoughts, you feel even worse about yourself. And you start looking at those happy people and resenting them and their happiness.
This Hyperbole and A Half post explains that thought process so wonderfully. Sometimes you just have to muddle through and keep your shit together until it passes.
There really isn't a point to this whole post, except to be open about what I'm struggling with. I'm still working on getting my health issues figured out and I try to appreciate what I have.
It helps to have all the animals...some days I'm resentful that I have to get up and feed everyone, and I start to beat myself up for thinking I could do this whole farm thing on my own. But I feel better having gotten up, even if I go right back to bed afterwards. Having the animals rely solely on me forces me to put one foot in front of the other. And of course there are the physical and emotional health benefits to having animals too. That little voice that suggests I made a huge mistake gets silenced when I look out the window and watch the ponies grazing, or see the look of sheer joy on Finch's face when she races as fast as she can around the pond. One foot in front of the other.
So to anyone else struggling out there - I'm sending good thoughts your way.
No comments:
Post a Comment