A Million Pieces

I didn’t see this one coming. I was blindsided by my own brain. To my knowledge, no one can predict depression, but there are certainly warning signs. I used to be able to feel it coming on. My body would start to feel heavier, and my mind would turn to darkness.

Sometimes, this disease makes me feel locked out of my own life. Everything still goes on without me, even though I should be right in the middle of it. I worry about anything and everything. In the back of my damaged brain, I know that worrying won’t help the situation. Right now, though, it feels like the only thing I can do. 

I need to wake up tomorrow with a renewed sense of hope. I don’t want to carry around this black cloud above my head. The truth is, I hope for that every single night.

In June, my husband and I took an all-expense paid trip to California for a mental health conference. I thought I had left my social anxiety and agoraphobia at home. Even though I loved where we stayed in Laguna Beach, and the people were fantastic, I still dealt with daily migraines and the feeling that everyone was staring at me all the time. My health isn’t so great. My weight is out of control, and both of my knees have been injured. Anyway, I’ve been struggling ever since we got home. I do miss Laguna Beach.

This time feels different; it’s not just vacation is over blah; it’s crippling depression and anxiety constantly bubbling up to the surface. I won’t even try to go into the family issues, because quite frankly, it’s far too upsetting. But, things are not good there either. Just thinking about it all causes panic attacks.

I rescheduled my most recent doctor visit due to a migraine, and I should feel relieved, but all I feel is guilt. I know it was last minute and I should have gone, but nothing gets me out of my bedroom these days. I feel like such a tremendous failure.

People are very nice about my struggles, but how long will that last? That isn’t to say that they aren’t good people. I just mean I’ve been stringing them along for a while now.

I feel like I’m about to shatter into a million pieces. 

As if I didn’t have enough to be emotional about, we had to take our beloved cat, Hayley to the vet, and have her put to sleep. She was 18 (that’s how long we’ve been married) and had gotten very sick. I know it was the humane thing to do, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Aside from my husband, that cat was my whole world. I was literally with her 24 hours a day. Right now, I’m stuck between denial and just completely falling apart.

I miss her so much.

So, I ask…how long will it last this time? When will I wake up in the morning and want to live? Don’t get me wrong; I’m not suicidal. I’ll never go back there again. I just don’t feel like a part of the world right now, and with Hayley gone, I’m now alone constantly. What a crippling and painful experience. Depression brings out the worst in people, especially me. The question is: When will I find the good in me?

I’m grateful that I’m still here and that I can put my thoughts down on paper. I never want to think about suicide again. I suppose every day that I wake up is a good one. Let’s just hope that it can be enough for me right now. Enough to stop feeling so lost and alone. I can only hope.