…with apologies to the The Beatles (at least you can’t hear me singing it).
I don’t always comment on my fellow mental health bloggers, but I read their posts. Today I read one that helped me tremendously … Please Make My Mind Stop. This woman has been through hell and back and keeps going. Reading her post today was a huge help; she inspires me to not give up. Yesterday I started to walk into the woods in the back of the house and wanted to just keep walking. After years of pain, then back surgery pain, and now nerve-healing pain, I’ve had enough. It’s starting to get between Greg and I (at least I imagine it is), and I began to question the intelligence of getting married (never mind that the wedding is in two weeks). It’s not that I don’t want to get married, I think I’m so special that I can get inside his head and decide for him that he shouldn’t want to marry me.
The Neurontin isn’t working. It’s been two weeks, time to call the doctor on Tuesday, maybe he can increase it. It’s ok as long as I’m not sitting, so I spend most of my time laying down, standing up, or walking. I’m standing at the computer right now, because after sitting for only 5 minutes, my leg started screaming at me. Now with a little Tia Maria in my coffee, I’m hoping the pain will be gone by the time Greg wakes up. Maybe I can make up for my meltdown last night.
I despise the instability of bipolar disorder, the insidious mind-fucking of pain, and my weakness to allow it all to control me. Strength is elusive, but with my real-life friends and my on-line support group, I’ll muddle through.
As I was being dragged by the swirling eddy into the deep sea of depression, I was thrown a life preserver to which I will hold tight for the next few weeks. Depression makes me isolate, and that’s not possible anymore, especially not on the weekends when Greg’s mother stays with us. My condo isn’t sold yet, so Saturday night when something set me off into a torrent of tears, I told Greg I’d move back there until I was stable again. I made it through the first two weeks of a half dose, now I have two weeks of nothing, then 10 days of a half dose of the new anti-depressant.
He put his arms around me and said “We will hug and cry every day if necessary; and we will get through this together.” And he’s not the only one, I forget I have friends that are willing to toss me a line as well. Maybe I didn’t forget, it’s just difficult to believe that they truly care. For so many years I was left to flounder alone, it’s hard to accept that help is all around me now.
Please remember to check in with your friends who may be struggling. Just a simple phone call, text or email can make a big difference in someone’s life. Everybody needs a life preserver, not just those of us with a mental illness.