Whose Shoulder Do You Cry On?

For those of you who don’t suffer from depression or anxiety, I know it’s hard to understand what the downward spiral feels like.  How, no matter what you do, you get sucked into a vortex that feels like lead weights pulling you under water.  Try as you may, there is no escaping it because it has such a firm grasp on you.

Its something like addiction….you can’t stop no matter how badly you tell yourself you want to.  The quicksand of despair calls.

I’ve lived with anxiety and depression for about 10 years or so now.  I know it started after my 3rd child was born and around the time my mother was first diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.  I think it must have been around 2007 give or take.  The first incident started with Mono earlier in that year, then I recuperated but never really lost the overall feeling of lethargy.  I am almost always in a constant cycle of being tired.

The only two times that I truly hit rock bottom were when my mother died in 2011 and when Bobby ended it in 2014.   There have been other times that I have had periods of despair, but I’m generally able to work my way through them and out of them.

I have done my best to avoid allowing myself to fall deep into a pit of despair over Bennett and I have mostly done an ok job.  My job and my network of friends have kept me generally tethered to reality.

But, recently, I have the overwhelming feeling of dread and I know this feeling and it’s path all too well.  Tears are always at hand.   They don’t need a specific incident to start.  I am cranky and get upset very easily.    Nothing truly makes me happy and I am very, very distracted.    Being distracted doesn’t bode well for me at work.

I want to lie in my bed all day.  I have a constant feeling in my chest that almost feels like I am about to vomit.  I can take Xanax to calm myself but it dulls me and makes me a bit spacey.  I try and save that for when I really feel panic setting in.

I sit here and worry constantly.  I worry if I am good enough.  Worry why I can’t seem to find a man that wants to stick around.  Worry why my children behave like they do.  Worry I will have a job tomorrow.   Worry if I can pay for college. Worry about nothing.  Worry if I am ugly, fat or stupid.  Worry about everything.

I also used to feel like my blog was a safer place than it is today.

Now, I feel that because I made the mistake of Bennett, no matter what I post about him will receive negative feedback, which is quite hard to hear when I am so desperately in love with this man.  I understand the difference between right and wrong, but clearly something is broken within me.  I would like to write more about how I feel about Bennett – but the advice is canned and I’m not in the mood to hear the same chatter “break it off, move on, he’s still sleeping with his wife” even if it’s all true.  Doesn’t matter, I’m not yet done processing it.

People will say – get help – go back to the therapist.  But that costs money and time I don’t have at the moment.  I can’t even seem to find the time to exercise. I’ve gained so much weight that my clothes no longer fit and I can see the change in photos.  Nothing like being fat to add to depression.

And here’s where people who are more emotionally stable don’t understand – I can’t make it a priority when all I want to do is sleep and dream and some days, not wake up.   I don’t mean die or kill myself – just disappear into myself for a while.

This is where I know I need help, someone to help me, because I cannot seem to do this on my own.  I want someone to coax me out of this, hold my hand, be near when I can’t stand up to help me along.  You can only depend on friends for so long when you don’t have a partner.

Who do you cry to?  Who holds you when you just need to sob and let it all out?  Who helps pick you up off the floor and put you back together?  Maybe you will say you can do this for yourself -well, good for you.  I can’t and being alone for so many years must be reaching its breaking point in me.

I’m slowly cracking, I can feel it and I am having a tough time keeping it together to do what I must.  Days like this the depression has me convinced I cannot keep on at it.

Days like this make me want to run back to Bennett (and, yes, I already reached out to him) just so I can physically feel love again.  Even when I know there is nothing there for me, I want to do what I know will ultimately hurt me.

 

Emotional Overwhelm

I have to admit, I had a day that I almost slipped and made a phone call to him.

I didn’t because there is no sense in this what-so-ever.

This is not a post about him, I have nothing to add about him.  This is all about me.

The day before it happened I began to feel tired and sort of sad.  I also started my monthly.  I am journaling these feelings and emotions because I feel like they might be tied to hormones, or maybe not.  I don’t think I have paid enough attention in the past to when and why I feel emotionally burdened like this.  I don’t like feeling like this and I really want these feelings to go away now.  I truly want to stop thinking of what I have lost and what is past.

The day started off poorly, I hadn’t slept the entire evening and had been tossing and turning.  He was on my mind, but there were no clear or articulate thoughts or images.  More like a presence.  Most like an empty, hollow space that I was falling through.

I felt overwhelmed by this big, dark, empty space.  Like I was being swallowed up by it.

Sad. Hollow. Empty. Dark. Lonely.

I couldn’t’ wake early enough to work out and I fell asleep on my commute to work , which only happens when I am exhausted.

I couldn’t shake the feelings of dread all day.  These gut feelings usually happen to me when something bad is about to happen, but nothing bad happened to me that day or the subsequent day.  I had no expectation of hearing from him or contacting him in any way, but the drive, the desire to pick up the phone to hear his voice was awful. It really took everything I had not to pick up that phone.

I remind myself there is nothing there for me and try to move forward.

I ensure I tell my friends, several of them fellow bloggers who have been holding my hand all the way through this heartache.   Everyone is supportive and listens.  Everyone keeps me on track.  I have to hold myself accountable.

But that little voice that says “Fuck it – call him anyway!!” persists.

Go away voice.  You are wrong.  This will solve nothing.

I have the sense of my heart breaking and a feeling of pain in my chest.  These symptoms haven’t hit me in a long while so I am surprised by them.  The tears are flowing easily and I am having a hard time keeping it together at work.  I am miserable. I feel defeated and depressed.

A bitter cold and rainy day doesn’t improve matters.

Making it home, once again falling asleep, I don’t exercise as I should.  I shower and climb into bed.  Talk to my kids a little bit and try to sleep.  But, sleep eludes me once again and I let tossing and turning.

I know I am not waking up to exercise once again.  I also know I shouldn’t be so hard on myself but it’s only day 4 of my “new” commitment to myself and I am already failing miserably.  I know if I get on that treadmill I will actually feel better.

I continue to lie there and cry.

I get in a good long cry and eventually fall asleep.

Then, when I wake up late for work and get moving the next day, the sun is shining, my cramps are gone and I feel better.  The feeling hasn’t dissipated entirely, but it’s not drowning me today.

Out of curiosity, I decide to measure the length of time:

Since I last saw him: 5 months

Since I last heard from him: 2 months

I suppose I have come further than I thought.

Nothing came of this.  My gut was off on this day….I had that sense of dread and it passed.  Some of the depression lingered the next (few) day(s), but more as a passing thought I could get by.  I managed through it somehow, knowing it can only get better.

A week later the feeling hit again. Not as bad the first time and definitely not as overwhelming. But consistent and insistent. Like a fly buzzing around my head that I keep trying to swat away.  It just keeps bothering me.

I wrote him and email I didn’t send.  I sent it to myself and some friends.  All of whom ensured I didn’t send it to him.  I deleted it the next day.

I admit, I will be happy when this is over, really, just over.

When my therapist said “It’s going to take as long as it takes” I sort of wanted to curl up and die right about then.  I don’t want it to take any more time and emotional energy from me anymore.  I am actively doing all I can to be positive and remain in a positive space, but days like this one certainly suck the life-force from me and remind me just how fragile and broken I am after that relationship.

I hate how this still weighs me down and knocks the wind from my sails. Believe me, every day I try so very hard to remain positive and hopeful and move forward.  It’s an awful, terrible, horrible, and gut-wrenching feeling wanting something you can not have, and someone who does not want you. It fucking sucks.

I’m taking bids on a lobotomy. Any one offering a deal?