High School Flashbacks

The past came crashing back.  It hit me like a semi taking out a car in an accident.  I just watched The Perks Of Being A Wallflower and was reminded of all I hated about my days in school.  I suffered from anxiety back then although it was never diagnosed… I was just called shy and told to get over it.  I think that is why I have been feeling so depressed lately.

My father had a surgery and I moved in temporarily to try to help take care of him and save money on home health care.  I feel like that shy child again, because I am cut off from friends outside of internet connections.  I spent much of middle school without friends and only limited ones in high school.  I feel alone like I did back then.

So how do I undo this emotional flash back and get back to the present?  How do I find the hope in friendships and the freedom of being able to come and go as I want to?  How do I return to adulthood without abandoning my Dad?

I have to remember that he is healing and getting better… this will not last forever.  I know my anxiety and depression is here to stay but it is TREATABLE.  I have to remember my positive attitudes, medications and gentle escapes in activities I enjoy can all give me benefits.

Writing can help me purge the emotions that overwhelm me.  I can relive the joys and gentle peace of nature through my collection of photographs I have taken on many walks through the area parks and bicycle paths.  And if I just want to check out from reality I can immerse myself in a game on the internet.  There are ways to cope, I just have to stay focused to remember them.

Today I will make it through.  My past lead me to a lot of days and nights of tears.  I can work through bad days, hours, minutes one moment at a time.  I will focus on the hope of a wish made on a dandelion breath.

Digimax A50 / KENOX Q2
Digimax A50 / KENOX Q2

Worry

What do you say to a friend who wants to die?  How do you balance the purely selfish need to keep your friend versus their need to end the horrible pain they are in.  I know he is in a deep depression and that is a lot of why he is talking like that.  But his life has been one disaster after another.  He has been homeless, abused, and spent time in jail.  The family he still has is not supportive at all.  He has only a handful of friends.  The worst part for me is he now lives a thousand miles away.  Add in the depression and he is even further away.

I know depression.  I myself have been in a place where death seemed so much easier than life.  I had enough friends and family around that I knew I needed help and got it.  My friend is alone a lot.  And that terrifies me.  The fine line I must balance is between being a friend while offering support and becoming too pushy.

I know I cannot control him.  I know I cannot stop him.  All I can do is love him and hope this depression lessens soon for him.  In the mean time I wait and worry.  I know he has the numbers to reach out to.  He is strong no matter how he feels right now.  The magnitude of what he has survived so far is enormous.  I know he is tired.  But he can overcome this.  I have to believe that.  I love him like a brother and I always will.  We go through this depression as best as we can, together in heart.

Is There Anybody Out There

I used to have a best friend who I could talk to about ANYTHING at pretty much anytime.  He has moved on… new address, new city, new job, and apparently new friends.  For all of last week I tried to reach him with only one response that was about nothing that mattered.  I feel like I have lost my soul mate.  It at times has been a flirting kind of love, but never more than friends… best friends.  Now I feel like I must have done something to offend him.  I am lost.  I think what hurts most is knowing it probably would be easy for him to forget about me… he has a borderline Asperger and doesn’t feel emotions the same, he has told me many times.  He could tell when I was down without a word and could almost always make me laugh or at least smile when I needed it.  I am at a loss on what to do… so I talk to the internet.

I hope there is someone out there that might take a minute to read my words.  Maybe someone else who has lost a friend and feels alone.  Maybe no one.  I just know I have to write.  My emotions get bottled up and it leads to depression that seems unending.  I have anxiety issues all the time and they have been soaring with this loss.  So if it is ok with you out there… let me talk to you from time to time.  Let me empty my cluttered mind.  Let me babble on about nothing important for hundreds of words.

I can’t say I ask nothing in return… I do ask that you take the time to think about how you treat others.  Remember they care about you and maybe some days need you too.  Be patient with those you love.  Don’t use people. ALWAYS tell someone you care about them and they are important in your life… some days that maybe just the boost they need.

I think I will try to sleep now.  When my head is full of thoughts I know it is impossible.  But now that I have done a word dump I think my head is a little more clear and sleep may come.  Thanks for listening… come back every once in a while.  I don’t promise great writing, but a friend in the night who is a little unhinged and hates to be alone.  Sleep well everyone.

One, Two, Three PULL

Depression, anxiety… a tug of war in my head.  I have a muddled pile of thoughts all squished together screaming for a way out of my mind.  I have found in the last two years as my symptoms have gotten worse my friends seem to disappear more and more.  The best thing to do for a friend suffering is be there for them…. but if you are there for a long time and then suddenly put up a wall it will slowly eat away at any hopes.  A friend I always depended on, who was always there with advice or a good distraction is now a ghost of a memory.  Nothing more than the other “friends” who became silent right after I said I was sick.  But you know if I had suffered from a broken arm, they all would have lined up to sign my cast.  Depression is not something to fear… it is NOT contagious.  I battled cancer more than 10 years ago and friends brought me food so I didn’t have to cook and offered rides to treatments and covering hours at work…. but depression is like turning on the lights in a roach infested apartment.  Everyone just scattered.

So along with medication I write.  I used to write to a “friend” but they stopped responding.  Now I write poems and the occasional blog.  I need to write more.  I need to find an outlet for the screams that echo inside.  If no one ever reads my blog it is no different than my vanishing friends.  If I reach one person who feels less alone in a similar battle it is great.  But if I can help one “friend” to learn the way to help I would be overjoyed that some one out there will get the support that they need.  The tug of war is harder some days than others, but I refuse to let go of the rope.  I will prevail…. with or without someone who cares.

No Need For Harry’s Cloak

A lot of people say they wish they were invisible… it pisses off those of us who feel invisible.  Sure there would be a few benefits (probably more curses though – I mean do you REALLY want to know what others say about you?) but ask anyone who feels as insignificant as a grain of sand, invisible is no fun.

I am always the one to randomly send a post, letter or phone call to most of my friends.  Sometimes I wait for them to talk and find I am waiting so long I am sure they have forgotten who I am.  Even my partner comes home from work, shares his day and then will disappear into his own world forgetting I am here.  He will pass through and say hi when he needs a cigarette or something to drink.  I feel I am just a knick-knack on the counter only dusted when needed to be presentable on occasion.  Otherwise LONG ago forgotten as a new exciting find.

Growing up in the shadow of a sister who did well in school is just one of the ways I blended into the woodwork of my family too.  Living with an alcoholic for 20 years kept me isolated from family and friends a lot of my adult life.  And always being shy nailed the coffin shut on much of a social life.  So how do I make myself worthy of being seen?  Is it even worth it?

I don’t feel I have anything to offer.  These words are not the work of Shakespeare or Stephen King.  No one is going to see my name on the New York Times bestseller lists ever.  I take pictures, but will not grace National Geographic’s pages.   I craft but am far from any gallery displays.  Why would anyone go out of their way for insignificant me?

I am reminded of the musical Chicago and the song Mr Cellophane.  He sings of people looking right through him… that seems like a daily occurrence for me.  I guess it is just a basic need to feel that I matter somehow, someway, to at least someone.  I don’t want to change the world… just be a visible part of it.

The Search For Help… One Word At A Time

Depression sucks!  In the midst of many life stresses, I am feeling the symptoms of all I endure…. depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia.  I am aching from head to toe, feel my thoughts swirling like a tornado in my mind, and jumping at every little sound.  I sit alone with my laptop and try to chase the feeling of doom with a little music.  Try to pass the time with a mindless game.  Try to slow the thoughts down with relaxation techniques.  None of this is working today.  The craving for comfort food (especially some sweets) keeps drawing me to the kitchen, only to find nothing to satisfy and calm me.  I hover over my cell phone trying to decide if I should burden anyone with my pain and terror today, only deciding it would change nothing and only make me look even less “normal” than I already do.  So I turn to a blank screen and the keyboard.  I write a couple of poems to get some of the chaos out.  Then talk to you… my invisible audience that I hope exists.  I let off some of the pressure I feel pinned down by with each word I type.  It is far from a cure.  It will not stop the pain.  But to write helps distract me in some ways.  A deep focus on how the sentence will flow, or to find the right block of words to convey what I am dealing with.  The words are not completely right, but they are close enough to slow the flood.  I hold onto a dream that maybe these words are what someone else may need to see someday to know they are not alone.  Today, at this moment, they are the words that I need to write for my own peace of mind.  In short, depression sucks!

Just A Minute…

Can I take a minute of your time?  This month is mental health awareness month and if anyone out there is actually reading my blogs I am sure you know I have issues with depression.  I admit it fully and will add in some anxiety disorder for good measure too.  Some days if feels like a recipe for disaster and other day can be close to what some call normal.  Tonight I am not normal.  I am crying and missing a friend who has locked me out of his life.  I often wonder if that was because of my depression.  He was very kind and caring at first and I thought we were great friends… then he asked to borrow some money.  I gave it to him and felt I had really helped a friend out… that is when little things changed.  He would no longer stand and talk for 5 or 10 minutes with me just because.  Text responses became less and less until he was never responding. And a phone call was out of the question.  …so why did he leave?

That was about 4 years ago.  Now another friend I have actually known almost as long has started not responding to email.  Another friend will never answer a phone call.  And one more friend I used to visit at least once every week or two seems to always be busy.  Depression takes those things and turns them ALL into my fault.  I did something wrong.  I am the toxic person in any relationship.  I am doomed to be alone.  Even my boyfriend is more and more distant.  Is there any chance for an open and honest depressive to have a social life at all?  Are we all destined to sabotage our relationships some how?

I have no answers only questions and sadness.  The longer the sadness stays with me the worse I get … so I write.  I used to write to my friends, but I think that may be part of the problem.  So now I write to everyone and more likely no one.  I am not good at this blog thing…. but just maybe one night I will connect with one person and they will see there is a way to let go of some of the depression and purge a little of the pain.  To you dear reader … or if I dare to dream readerS…  thank you for taking time, for giving me just a minute of your time.  Letting me bleed out the pain like ink drops on paper (or keyboard to screen as it were). does help me a little and if there is only one single person out there having a bad night that sees a small connection and a bit of hope, then my late night ramblings are worth it.  I will continue to expose my gaping wounds and try to find ways to heal… there is plenty of room on the depression train.  Take a ride with me and I will supply the words and tissues.

Truly thanks for reading!

Dreams To Ashes

Dreams twist realities
Anticipations take flight
Then in one bleak moment
A crushing fist of truth
Slams into my heart
The words of denial
Kill all confidence in me
Wishes are slaughtered
With the actions of certainty
I am left empty
Fantasies now burned ashes
Only nightmarish facts glare
I am not good enough
I am worthless
Unwanted
Alone

Alone …

 

Alone Collage

Why is it that with other people around me I can feel utterly alone, but when it was just me taking walks in nature I felt surrounded in love and beauty?  When I was more isolated in natures embrace I felt less alone than at my own home… am I really that broken?  I can find a little bit of relief in looking at those pictures I gathered back when I could still walk 30 to 60 minutes without batting an eye.  Now as my body twists in pain and weighs heavy with fatigue I am lucky to walk ten feet from the car to the bridge entering one of my favorite parks.  But those birds singing and the rushing water are like a warm embrace of an old friend.  My chair with family scattered to opposite corners of the house feels like a padded cell locking me out of life.  As the isolation grows so does the depression. Finally I wander to seek another human’s contact and feel the empty greetings of them being interrupted in the game they are playing or video they are watching.  Maybe I am meant to take flight, far away, soaring into the skies?  But my wings are clipped and I feel tethered to this existence of loneliness in life.  I only find brief moments of freedom – an occasional shared laugh or a short conversation about more than what is for dinner – that give me hope.  A hope that maybe I can slowly file that chain off my ankle and find a step or two each day towards believing that I belong and am no longer the discarded one…. alone in the corner.