Easter 2016

This is usually a beautiful day for me. I love Easter.

Today, though, not so much.

I'm not better yet. As Therapist would say, "...still on the verge." Which means, essentially, that I'm functioning well, and working hard at becoming healthy again, but not yet stable.

Therapist said I should not remain quiet about what is happening with me. To do so brings more shame and stress. But he also said it's a good idea to choose carefully the people with whom I share. And it's interesting. When I've talked about it, I'm met either with complete silence or a pretense that nothing out of the ordinary has been said, for example:

Me: I've been having a difficult time. Dealing with some suicidal depression. I'm working through it, but it's hard.
Other person: How about those Dodgers?

On the other hand, there are some who completely acknowledge what I'm saying with this response:

Me: I've been having a difficult time. Dealing with some suicidal depression. I'm working through it, but it's hard.

Other person: You're one of the strongest people I know. I'm certain you'll be fine.

I suppose this is my own fault. It's what I always say. "I'll be fine. I'm always fine." But the truth is, I don't know that I'm going to be fine. I'll probably keep saying it because it makes people feel more comfortable. But it's a lie.

I've never hosted this type of depression for this long. I've never felt so incredibly alone when going through something like this. I've never felt it constantly at the edge of my mind, reminding me that things aren't right yet. I'm a little scared.

When I try to talk about it, I feel a little stonewalled. "Get help." "Have you talked to Therapist?" "Stop working so much." "Maybe you're not trying hard enough." I'm paraphrasing, of course, but do the people in my life even know me?

For the last decade I've worked my butt off trying to make certain I get help when I need it, regardless of the personal, emotional, and financial cost. And Therapist keeps tabs on me. He doesn't check up on me constantly, but if I send a chat message, text, or email, he responds immediately. Yes, I've talked to Therapist. As for working so much, I've been cutting back. The truth is, I make more than enough money. Even with Darrin not working, we've been fine. I can take time off. Yesterday I did. And I went on a date with my husband. And not trying hard enough? I don't know. Maybe that one's true.

I told Therapist about this. He said all the things I knew he would. People want the best for me. Getting help is important. Talking to a therapist is important. Taking time to rest is important. Not giving up is important. When I didn't respond, he asked, "Sam, what would you like them to say or do?"

What would I like them to say or do?

Call me unexpectedly? Tell me it's okay that I"m not doing well? Remind me that they're on my side and I'm not alone? Let me cry? Give me a hug for a really long time? Tell me I'm loved? And, I suppose, remind me that they don't want me to die because they like having me around?

I don't know.

I can't say that no one has done this for me (Josh). So I don't know why I want this from more people. Clearly I'm not focusing on the "important" things.

That's how I feel on this Easter morn. I'm a little too self-absorbed to sing, "He is Risen." I just want to stop feeling like I want to be dead and I don't want to rise again. I just want to stop. Well, not all the time. Sometimes I feel okay being alive. That's progress, right? Right?

Crickets. Always. This is not a popular topic. This is why we have therapists. So I'll stop talking about it to other people and keep it behind closed doors - confidential - invisible.

Sigh.

Happy Easter.