When I had my depression (mild as it was), before my multitude of health issues were diagnosed, some of the things I heard a lot were, “Are you ok?”, “How are you feeling?, “Can I get you anything?”, “Can I help you?” etc., etc., etc. It never angered me, I knew it came from a place of concern, but BOY did it get tiring. I just wanted to yell “I’M FINE! STOP ASKING!”, but even that seemed to much effort.
Now that I am in the other place, I find myself asking the same damned questions. Probably annoying the hell out of him, and most times it is out of my mouth before my brain engages. It comes from a place of love, caring, and concern. I HATE not being able to fix things. I don’t like the silence. Not bad silence really, I did the same thing. How can you make noise or talk about what is bothering you if you don’t even really know yourself?
Maybe, if I ever find myself there again, I will be more sympathetic to those asking the questions. Maybe they just need reassurance just as much as those suffering.
I don’t have the answers, but I
think hope that both sides know that the other is there, and it might take time, but it does can get better, and there is someone who is waiting on the other side.
For my part, for now, I will TRY to wait more patiently, I will try to stop asking the questions. Maybe, instead of the questions I can just give a hug. A hug can ask and answer many things.
It’s weird being on this side of that horrible darkness.