With only two day left until we set our feet on the plane - the snowball seems to be speeding up and beginning to feel like it is taking me with it. I have tried to be pretty cool about things over the last few months and weeks. Not really wanting to think too much about the next stage.
The finale.
The goodbyes.
With the next days now about fly past in record timing I am starting to feel it more. Something I'm not very good at dealing with.
After a very debilitating episode of Postal Natal depression after the birth of squeak I have been terrified of letting myself feel too much. It is the thing that is on my back, whispering in my ear "You could end up there again, feel the sadness taking over".
I try to put up a very brave and organised front as this is my coping mechanism. Yes I gave depression a good kick in the nads but the memory of it haunts and terrifies me. What if it happened again? What if I get so lost I can pull myself out next time. These are some of the thoughts that thrash around in my head; daily.
Its a scary place, depression. Something that pulls you down and sucks the life out of you. I don't even recognise the person I was while I was in the throws of its clutches.
It is almost like being caught in a rip in the ocean. Being pulled out at no choice of your own. The more you fight it, the more tired you get. But that's what we all do. We see the weakness in the crumbling of the person we know as us.
Depression sucked every single ounce of life out of me until there was nothing left to do but let go. I haven't talked about it much as it is an ugly scar I hide very well - although something I see everyday.
I have been to the point where I could see nothing left here in life and that is the hardest and most distressing place to be. I have never felt so numb and disconnected from the world around me. I felt like I had my knees broken with a baseball bat and was thrown into the ocean with my hands and feet bound in a small inflatable boat. I was alive but just, and impeding death was drawing closer. I was dehydrating emotionally, waiting for the sharks of anxiety and terror to eat me alive and getting to a point where I could see nothing beyond this horrid ocean hungrily wanting to engulf me.
I have been that person who smiles emptily at people she passes. My mind completely shut off to any social kind of interaction. I have cried until I thought I would flood my kitchen floor for nothing more than there being "that feeling". I have been to the point where there is no feeling left.
I have asked myself why I am here?
what difference do I make?
how would it matter if I was gone?
I know it was a extremely painful time for anyone close enough to see the changes. I was taken to a place I pray no one has to go, not because it was a terrible place but because when that happens it is your last option.
All of this leaves me where I am today. Afraid of feeling too much. In particular, afraid of letting myself be sad, scared, nervous, anxious, worried, alone. I may have been found by my rescue boat and brought back to life but the memory of it remains. I never want to feel that way again. I never want to be that shell of a person so unable to see life as a gift.
But I am beginning to wonder if I keep trying so hard to run away from it, am I completely ignorant to it happening again? How long can I choose to shut myself away for? How long can I function in this very social life we live, not feeling what other people feel? It has caused me heartache to know that I haven't been a very compassionate soul. I have harden myself to the curveballs of life. But it takes its toll. It is now beginning to show and I am terrified the well disguised clothes I wear may unravel. I have begun to notice physical signs that this isn't good for me.
Headaches,
Being so wound up about things I can't stop even the little things going around and around in my head.
Harsh words towards people that I would never dream of,
The craving for nothingness, something that will help me escape (I choose not to be a drunk or substance abuser but I could be if I gave in).
The staring into space, so consumed by fighting me and my head,
The anxiety, that gets my stomach flipping, head spinning, mind racing, hands sweating.
The boiling inside that feel like it could explode any moment,
The weariness,
The need to control what is going on around me and make the decisions.
How can these kinds of things be healthy? But to me I am keeping that monster away from my life. The uninvited guest as I have described it before in a post. I am just so scared of being overthrown again but am I inadvertently allowing it by running away from the fear so fast?
I am scared to feel the sadness in goodbyes to friends and family. I have avoided most of this by knowing I haven't been actually leaving the country yet when I have said goodbyes so far.
I have left an amazing bunch of friends in New Plymouth, amazing ladies who have let me into their lives when I have held them at such an arms length. I said goodbye fooling myself into thinking I would see them again before I actually left. But here I am two days out and feeling the pain now of unfinished business.
I said goodbye to my Dad as if he was leaving after coffee at my house on his way back to work, bound to call in within a few days. I reflected the conversation away from goodbye to other relevant life issues right now - the fact that we can't get a phone line ( I know lame huh!)
I walked out of my church the last Sunday hugging a few people but not allowing myself to find the people that matter most and say proper goodbyes. Of course I blamed them and there lack of finding me before we left.
And now the plan in my head is being made for how I say goodbye to my Grandparents. I don't want to think about the fact that I may miss the final years they have. The guilt that would follow me leaving and not seeing them for awhile and something happening is too big to comprehend - so I don't. I push those thoughts so far away, but it still simmers silently in the background.
Mum and Mo are coming with me to help us settle in for a week and I am thanking God that Mo hates goodbyes as much as I do. I know that I can get away with a see ya, a smile, a wave down the drive as they head back to the train, home to New Zealand. But can I live with that being my closure?
How long can I run from the things that scare me? How healthy is it to live a life of avoidance? I am so busy running away from the 'what could bes' to notice that I am missing so much of living in the 'nows'.
So I need some help.
Help to dig deep and see that depression didn't kill me, even if it tried its best. Still it makes me shudder to think about it but I can't keep tiring myself, and those around me, by being so threatened by something that may or may not be. I need to live a life that lets me feel sadness and pain as without it how can I measure my happiness and love?
I am still haunted by the spectre too.
ReplyDeleteIt's a hard slog and writing about it has helped as has counselling.
And I am so with you on the addiction fears... Coffee is my vice but it could so easily be something else.
Sorry I have no magic wand nor pearls of wisdom. Just know I love your honesty and wish you the best with your new adventure and with the battle with the spectre....