Holidays: struggle between meaning and hope

Our lives are filled with charades and facades. If you are depressed and don’t want anyone to know, the façade becomes even more ingrained with the self. On the outside, people see you as happy, maybe even without a care in the world while inside you are dying and hurting inside. It takes all the effort you have to make it through the day. At the end of the day, you are more tired than you were when you woke up. The mental exhaustion of a façade cannot be underestimated. This is the face of chronic depression at its worse.

What can really bring one to their knees is the holiday season, a time that is supposed to be filled with love, joy, giving, and happiness. How are you supposed to feel that when you feel like the scum of the earth most of the time? It is very difficult to hold two faces, the face that everyone sees with friends and family, coworkers, etc. and then the face that no one sees when you are alone at night, away from the demands of life. I have struggled for years with this façade and it has taken its toll on me. I think it takes a toll on every one. We cannot allow ourselves to feel down because we have to be the one that is strong for everyone else. It is this internal battle that we face, the “I feel sad and lonely inside but I have to pretend to be happy and feeling connected to others”. That is the struggle that leads to more hurt and pain on the inside. The hope for us is that tomorrow will be a better day, even though there is a part of ourselves that know that it won’t be. We cannot hide the pessimism. It is the real self that always shines through no matter what kind of happy façade we are pretending.

With the holidays, this struggle becomes more intense and the more intense it becomes, the more the disappointment we feel. If we act like a Scrooge, we are treated like a Scrooge and told to lighten up, if we act like Bob Cratchet, hiding the need for help, we end up losing Tiny Tim, which leads to depression of spirits much like the story goes before Scrooge intervenes in the end. Scrooge is one of my favorite all time movies and I think it really captures what it is like to be humble like Crachet and grumpy like Scrooge.

We all don’t always feel miserable all the time but there is a stress in the holidays that always seems unbearable. Psychiatric hospital admissions go up, the requests for detox goes up. Everyone wants to make a new start to the new year. And with that the hope that things will change. That the misery that is felt today will be gone tomorrow. That is the struggle those of us with chronic depression deal with every day and sometimes even those without depression have it as well.

100th Blog (ramblings 13)

This is my 100th blog. I had wanted it to be meaningful but I am still working on the meaningful part. I started writing it today on the father of suicidology and a man that means a lot to me. I got half way done and then got interrupted. I couldn’t finish a thought to save my life. I hate it when that happens…

I did get my glasses fixed today. It just needed a small adjustment and now I can see without things in my bifocal part being blurry. I ordered my bibliography program and my dad’s x-mas gift. Now I just need to get my mother, sisters, and kids something. One down and I don’t know how many others to go…

Been thinking about what happened the beginning of the week. If things had gone the way that I had wanted to, I wouldn’t have been here for Thanksgiving, or I would have been somewhere other than home. I can’t seem to get the desperation out of my head and now every time I have a pain that is a 5 or 6 I wonder if it will trigger something bad inside me. The demons really came out last Monday. I couldn’t stand because of pain and spasms. I just wanted it to end. And if I had the bottle of anti-spasm meds by my bedside, I know I would have taken the whole bottle until things did stop. I have had severe heartburn since that night. I think the stress of me becoming that way again is overwhelming me. I mean, I didn’t really do much that day except possibly stand too much and walk a few extra steps than I had to. I didn’t do any more stairs than to my room that day. And for whatever reason, just lying in bed reclining was enough to set off both of my feet into agonizing pain and spasms. I really just wanted to die because I couldn’t take my meds, couldn’t walk the few feet to my bureau to get them. I only had what was near me and then I passed out only to wake up at 0230 am. Sleep has not been good the past week. I think that has contributed to my mental deterioration. I sleep for a few hours and then I am up again. I just tired of everything but I just can’t sleep. Sure I can nap for a couple of hours but I don’t want to get into that habit. I really just want a solid six hours of sleep. I don’t think I am asking too much.

Golf ball post

I should write a song about golfballs being an ankle. That is the type of swelling I have right now and it hurts like hell. I guess I did too much cookie making this morning. Course last night I ended up taking a few too many of this and that. I am really surprised I woke up today. If I didn’t I would be happy. I hate not being able to sleep for more than a few hours these days and not being able to see with my new glasses. Is that asking too much??

Because of my medication OD, I swear to God I thought today was Wednesday all day. Wed I am supposed to pick up my niece at 12. Well seeing as I got my days wrong, I went to the school anyway and at 12 was wondering why no one was coming to pick up their kids. Place is always a mad house when school is let out. I go on playing with my phone and then realize today is TUESDAY not WEDNESDAY ya dummy….so I walk home. Only to reach the front steps of my house when my cousin kindly reminds me that I should get rid of my junk box and get a car. If another family member on my mother’s side tells me I should just buckle down and get a fricken damn car, I am going to put a sock in their mouth!! A nice dirty smelly sock!!

So I am going to go off to dream land for a bit. I’ll probably be back around 3-5 am when I wake up to use the bathroom or just wake up to start the day. I kid you not, the past few nights have been torture and trying to get back to sleep has been hell…

Dark Heart

30-Jan-11

Been up the last few hours. I have such a heavy heart that it is ready to kill me. I am haunted by everything that is wrong with my life. Been thinking about my cousin who is now a marine and yet I hardly know because my family drifted apart. It saddens me that I don’t know my “little” cousins anymore. The oldest is engaged and will be married later this year. I feel less a part of their lives with each passing year.

I do not know who I am anymore. Last night in a fit of torment I threw down the gauntlet and told my ptx that I will die this weekend. I so wish I could act on these feelings. The brokenness inside kills me every night. The sorrow that is deep within my chest shall never be revealed nor relieved in any such way. I am just a freak who is suffering silently with only these words to fall on silent blogs. I only wish to end this daily torture. Animals are treated more humanly than human beings. It has been said that you control your own life and happiness. Well my happiness lies beneath the earth or as a pile of ash. I do not care what remains of my bodily essence. My consciousness is what is the death of me. I am not truly dying a slow death but am only being tortured every minute I dare to breath. This can’t be what life is about. To go on suffering just so others do not feel your loss. I have snapped and I don’t know if there is any coming back. I want to put a plastic bag over my head and die of asphyxia. Yes it may be painful but once that last breath is gone, I shall be free