Man. My brain is broken.
I got through the holiday. No fanfare, no Christmas movies, no Christmas meal. Just a day-long messaging convo with my DR friend Nancy which saved my sanity.
Then the next day came. And I was okay.
Then, yesterday. And it all crashed. The losses, the depression, the reminders that here I am at 52; having raised two children. Having three grandchildren. And spending holidays alone. And wondering what it’s all for anyway.
At 52, after spending a lifetime working really hard. After having my own place since I was 17. Here I am with nothing. No space of my own, no work, no plans, and no hope for much to change since I’m unable to work at much except being self-employed in my mental condition.
I don’t post this for sympathy or for people to give me reasons why life is worth living. I post because I’m absolutely lost. Sad. Disappointed in myself for so many things. Disappointed in life, disappointed in my choices, disappointed that I can’t recover or find my footing.
And it’s paralyzing.
I don’t know how many more days I can handle of crippling sadness, depression, loss of purpose, endless sobbing, loss of direction, and loss of hope. I don’t know why I can’t handle things as they come my way. I don’t know why I can’t just stay numb and pretend none of my past ever happened. Why I can’t forget what I once had so that I don’t miss it any longer. Why I can’t catch a break or make my way.
I’m hoping to get Donovan into rescue soon. That will help my stress levels a little. I was talking to my bestie Easton (in the DR) and he suggested EMDR therapy. I will give it a try as soon as my insurance kicks in. For the record, when you’re depressed and suicidal, having a friend who understands and doesn’t “panic” at your thoughts will literally save your life. Easton has saved mine many times. He never invalidates or dismisses my feelings. He understands them and has been there. People like us know that it’s normal to want to die and that we have to seek moments of joy. We know that it’s not always time to call out the red alerts but sometimes it’s just time to listen and understand and love and accept.
Every year is different. Every holiday a new fresh hell that I don’t expect arrives in my heart. I thought it would get easier but instead every year it’s worse. It’s another year since I spent a happy holiday. Another year without my grandkids or either of my kids wanting to be in my life. Another year passed with nothing to show for it but more pain, more emptiness, more reasons to believe that my life really isn’t worth much.
I’m feeling regret at leaving the DR. I know it’s not logical or reasonable, and realistically I know I’m in a better place. But I miss having my own space. And being here has made me realize that my trusted friends and confidantes are in the DR. As messed up as my experience was there, I did make lifelong friends who understand what solitude is.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I just needed to get this off my heart and put it someplace. I know there are many with issues, and I know that I’m actually blessed in many ways. But that doesn’t make this any less dark. There has to be a way out. There has to be.