Strength of being

**I started this post back in June, when I felt like life just wasn’t worth all the hype people give it. I still have moments, but I am still in a good place right now. But after letting this sit for almost 2 months, editing, re-writing, and over thinking it all, I feel it is time to post it and be done with it.

Below is, not so much a final draft, as “the good enough” version. I could re-write this until the cows come home, I will never truly be able to put to word what goes through my mind, or what I feel at the core of myself, during my depression.

Keep in mind, that the following is the depression talking. Sure, on some level it is how I feel, but it is also the depression, egging me on, feeding me lies, about myself, my family, and life in general. After all, depression lies. **

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I have often looked at myself as both strong and weak, depending on the situation, and the light of day. I am sure we all feel we have our moments of both. Thing is, when I feel at my weakest is when others have said I am at my strongest.

I have always dealt with the family turmoils with a fairly stoic attitude. It is what it is, just deal with it and be done. Time for worries after the fact. As I have gotten older, and feeling my age these days, I find myself more weary of that position. Actually, I am just tired of what life offers at all, period. That’s not to say I want out of it. There are good things, things that are worth all the pain, depression, and even the bone crushing debt and lack of money. That’s my family. I’m talking my husband and son. Yes, I love my parents and my brother, but to be honest, we all have our little groupings of who is more important and to who (whom?). Mom and my brother are as thick as thieves, and when I am trying to recharge my batteries, listening to her complain about my husband or son or even my dad, it’s just an added weight I don’t need. I check out of the conversations, and just don’t even bother. I know mom feels hurt, she wants a closer relationship with me, she too suffers depression, and I think she needs a companion that can be there, but it can’t be me. I can’t deal with someone else’s baggage, especially in regards to my family.

Dad, well, dad has alienated himself from us all. Not much more to say about that, I am sure I posted something recently if you care to search for it. I love my Dad. I was a daddy’s girl, but as he has aged, he has pushed everyone who ever cared as far from him as he could. I was the last to say “fuck it”, but, again, I don’t need that crap.

My brother, I miss my brother. We were never very close, not as “adults”, but we always had each others backs. No one dared try anything with me because big brother was right there making sure they took the hint. And I took that bitch ex-wife of his down a few pegs when I saw what she was. MY mistake was doing it while they were married. Not sure he has gotten over that yet, maybe another 10 years?

His health is the biggest obstacle. He is a hermit because of it. Always in pain, yet always the dreamer. I really admire him for that. Envy him actually. I think I have only heard him talk about ending his life once. Once in almost 20 years of constant, crippling pain. Damned amazing if you ask me. I may “complain” when he is having a good day, he can be QUITE the talker, never ending. But truthfully? It makes me smile, it lifts my heart to know he is having a good day. He plans the future on those days. I just wish I could make that future for him. Knowing it will never be, sadness me.

I have spoken enough about my husband and son, so I won’t say much about that.

As for me, oh, sure I have spilled my guts on that subject until the cows came home. But There is so much I hold back, it’d make your head spin. I know, unbelievable.

Thing is, while I may not believe I have strength with in me, I know I do. Hell, I wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t.

I have always prided myself on being an unfeeling bitch with the strength of a thousand gods. (not actually what I have said, call it embellishment for sake of the story.) I tend to be “just fine” 90% of the time any one asks, you lucky folks are the ones that get the tip of the iceberg on what is NOT “just fine” in my world.

Just recently I have begun to doubt myself in that area. I have never worried about anything until after the fact, not really worried. But ever since I made the decision to get my medical history/adoption records, I have been a giant ball of raw nerves. Both weak and strong, happy and sad, all seemingly at the same time. I worry that there will be information on my birth mother, yet worried there won’t be. I have NEVER cared before. Not anything past a fleeting thought as a child when mad at my parents.

I have had dreams about this, horrifying dreams, and amazing dreams. Some completely out to lunch, some down to earth.

This whole thing has ripped into my brain and is pulling apart my carefully stack house of cards. I have been amazing at juggling our money and debt, my family’s health and well-being, along with maintaining my own (sort of). And this, this thing I have done, sending off the form, is destroying it all.

Hell, my depression and what-not has never come as close as this to knocking down my precariously balanced mind. (again, a bit of flowery wording for effect.)

I am beginning to think I never had depression until now. But this is different, this is feeling, strong feelings, stress, worry, even a bit of anticipation? Maybe?

All I know, looking back on my last few months of posts, it’s getting worse. Maybe if I had just sent the form off, the second the thought crossed my mind I would not be here, the last few months of whining would never have happened.

But it has, and now I am here.

Sure, I understand that many say depression is lack of feeling, lack of caring, but it truly comes in different flavours, and honestly? I so prefer the lack of caring over this hell my brain is putting me through. This “not good enough”, “Life isn’t worth shit”, crap that my brain has seared into to my brain for the last while. No. Give me back the whatever and the uncaring about anything. It is better than this hell.

 

I have NEVER asked for help, prided myself on “never will”. And no, I am not asking now, at least, not of you. I wouldn’t do that.

I am not even sure if I will ask for help from anyone, I do know I need to help myself. I just don’t know where to start.

I can’t take back the form, it’s already been sent. It’s just a matter of playing the waiting game now, and I have never be good at that.

I just need to do something, anything to stop this from becoming too much. Which is a big reason for this blog. Hopefully prevent the insanity from seeping in? Mm might be too late on that front. haha

Posting does seem to calm me, helps me spill out the thoughts, re-arrange them, and hopefully organize them. Unfortunately, I let it go too long before sending it off, which means I am having difficulty keeping it all in check between postings.

Which is why This will stay a draft rather than be posted, for now.

 

(Original draft started June 5th, 2015)

If you make it to this point of my post, A few more comments on it from me.

I want to point out, I may spill a lot of crap on this blog, but it is scary just how much of my thoughts and turmoil I hold back. That part I am very serious on. Honestly? I don’t even think I could verbalize in any media what goes through my mind, how completely I am screwed up. I do believe it is a large part of why I have no friends, and don’t really want any.

I have tried that, and with me, I am very much an all or nothing person. I give my all, and I expect your all. You can only be used for what you can give for so long before you give up.

I believe in my heart that once the damned adoption records get here, the worst of my swings in mood/depression will be nullified. Unless of course my worst fears come true, in which case, I just burn the papers and ignore the truth. It’s one thing to have the fear of not being good enough for an unknown family, it’s another to have it shoved in your face! Burning it won’t change the facts, but it will be cathartic and allow me to ignore it.

BUT, that is a non-issue. After-all, the chances of that fear (NOT typing, or saying it, so do NOT ask!) coming true? Probably 1 in a googolplex? Or however many people are on the plant, which ever is more realistic.

Hmm I realize that all sounds like I am still in a dark place, but believe it or not, I am actually starting the climb out (I think?). Yeah, I have moments, where I get the flash of “what’s the point”. But they are fewer and farther between.

(Addition added July 16th 2015)

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Keep in mind, I was in a really dark place at the time, nightmares, lack of proper sleep, a really NASTY self-loathing and lack of self-worth. And after holding back for so long, I was ready to burst. It was shortly after starting this post, even though it stayed in my drafts folder, that I began the climb out of that hole.

Forgot I had added an addition to this. nice to have a time frame of when I started to feel better. Interesting.

Man I can go to odd places in this brain of mine!!

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