It’s only with a fully tummy, after a hot bath, and tucked between these cool sheets that I can ever begin to think, “Could my depression be a gift and not a curse?” ***** I’m participating in the Blogging from A-to-Z April Challenge! Read about it here. Read more
So. Very. Tired. I’m wore out, I’m tired, I’m sleepy, I can’t sleep. Sick of being depressed. Sick of hoping everything will just be better once I get the meds, and then wondering, “What if it’s not, and this is all the better anything ever gets anymore, and won’t that be fun, and soon you’ll be even more miserable, and if you thought anyone liked you before, you’re sadly (heavy on the sadly) mistaken, but what else is new?” Read more
Oh, I had something cooked up. But, the depression… Read more
“I never got your message.” “I do love you.” “Only a fool would believe that.” “By signing, I agree to all the terms and conditions.” “I promise I’ll stop drinking.” “I’ll call you.” “America is the greatest country in the world.” “You won’t get pregnant.” “I was self-employed during that year.” “But that’s just the way things are.” “There’s no way you can’t get your money back.” “No one will ever know.” “Of course he can–he’s a boy!” “You can... Read more
“Oh, Honey, I can’t even understand you.” And I’m blubbering into the phone. “It’s gone, it’s gone. The glasses… and…and the blue chain….” More blubbering. Sobbing. “What happened? What?” “I wanted…to take…a walk. I thought it would help, you know?” More blubbering. “It was such a bad afternoon.” More crying. “I thought I deserved something nice. But, nooooooooo…” Wailing. “What happened? Was it while you were walking?” “Yes… It was nice. I got…a skirt. At Goodwill. To replace the one... Read more
It’s not hard to figure out something’s wrong when I find myself sobbing when a web page doesn’t load fast enough. When the dark shape I’m constantly seeing out of my corneal corner begins to coalesce into something I’d rather not see at all. When I finally make it down to the basement to bring up the laundry, only to realize I’d already done it some time before. Praying for a long time but never moving ahead on the beads.... Read more
St. Joan of Arc Chapel on Marquette University campus in Milwaukee, WI. ©2008 Matthew Hendricks (image self-created and owned by SCUMATT (talk) 03:37, 18 June 2008 (UTC); released under Creative Commons license) (Photo credit: Wikipedia) I’ve got a love/hate relationship with Jehovah, and it has nothing to do with God. It’s now recognized to be a bad translation of the Tetragrammaton, but since it’s the King James default, I run into it all the time in music and literature. There... Read more
This is where the screaming starts. The inner screaming. The pain that comes from not just slitting your wrist, but from cutting off your entire hand. Or seeing yourself do it. The past seven to ten days have been okay. About as normal as I get. Not too bad. Nope. But I’ve never been a person who goes about things in a subtle way. So it was bound to fall apart, sooner or later. When depression comes. It’s a black... Read more
Hard rain. I keep telling myself that we need this rain. Otherwise it’s too much. Second day of hard rain. Yesterday the rain was pleasant enough. A soft, thoroughly soaking rain. Perfect. A perfect spring rain. Today it’s a different story. A boring story. It’s dark out, and now drivers have their headlights on (at least the smart ones). Yesterday was good. Today, not so good. Thankful I have no headache. Not thankful that I can’t do anything in the... Read more
Thank GOD my faith is not about emotion. When I’m crawling through the mental tar-pit of depression that is just one half of my bi-polar “issue,” I have to believe that. Have to remind myself over and over, over and over, over and over again, that God has not taped a “kick me” sign on my back. God doesn’t work that way. (Thank GOD for Aquinas!) Of course, that doesn’t make me feel better. It has, however, kept me from... Read more
After the Ecstasy, the Laundry...
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