Bluer Than Blue...

And I'm bluer than blue

Sadder than sad

You're the only life

This empty room has ever had

Life without you is gonna be

Bluer than blue

Depression:  Severe despondency and dejection, typically felt over a period of time and accompanied by feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy.

What does that mean to you?? 

Think about it...

Now, let me tell you what it means to me.

I was diagnosed with depression about 7 years ago.  Never in a million years would I have labeled myself as depressed.  Sure, I got down every now and again but isn't that normal??  Especially after a family member's death, a broken heart, or even getting fired?? 

My heart has been broken so many times I've lost count. 

I've been fired so many times, I've come to expect it. 

And my grandma died in 1992 or was it 1993?? 

Fast forward to today.  August 2014.  I have been off my meds for about 4 years.  I have done really well controlling my episodes up until now.  Up until August 2014.

This month started off bad.  I was doing great until the first Saturday of August.  I had taken a shower and was going over to Nena's to play Loteria (Mexican Bingo).  I had the TV on watching The Internship with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson.  Pretty harmless and not as funny as I thought it would be.  I was putting my shoes on when a scene hit me so hard, it literally triggered a REALLY bad episode.  So bad that I didn't go to Nena's even though I had texted her an hour before that I was coming over.

The scene.  The dialogue.  UGH!!

Graham tells Billy:  "You always find a way to screw things up and let people down."

Yep...that was all it took.  You see.  It wasn't all that long ago, just a couple of years, that my dad called me a failure.  Yeah...a failure because I didn't have a husband, I didn't have children, I didn't have a house and I didn't have a stable job.  Can you believe that??  He thinks I'm a failure.  I couldn't even say anything because I couldn't believe what he was saying.  My sister jumped to my rescue and extolled all my virtues and successes to him.  But the damage was done.  I know that I am not a failure.  I know that am successful in my career.  I know that I don't have children of my own but I have plenty of children that I love like a mother, like a crazy aunt and like a badass big sister.  I am blessed beyond measure with several families that I love and that love me.  I know this.  But my dad sees me as a failure.  Period.

I spiraled quickly out of control.  I couldn't stop crying.  I didn't answer my phone and I didn't return any texts.  I can't say I was suicidal because I hadn't thought about the actual deed.  But in my mind, I was sure it was going to happen.  So, I needed to make sure everything was settled and arranged.  I went through a checklist in my head as I was sitting on the balcony crying and smoking a cigarette.

I can't describe what I was going through because there are no words to actually describe the darkness.  The absence of light.  The absence of hope.  Just a black hole sucking me in and my complete acceptance of it. 

How did I make it through??  Wyatt!!

Going through my checklist of what notes to write, what to say and what arrangements needed to be made before I could do anything, Wyatt's predicament came front and center.  Who would take Wyatt??  I hadn't asked anyone.  What if no one would take him??  He's truly spoiled.  Albert wouldn't.  Mom couldn't.  Mike and Krys already had a dog.  I wouldn't leave him orphaned and in a kennel waiting to be adopted.  So, I had to think and think and think. 

And all the sudden it was Monday. 

Albert called me at work.  Worried.  And I cried.  Then after work he told me he was coming over and I said no.  He didn't listen. 

As we were sitting on the couch, he asked that I promise him something.  I wouldn't promise until he told me what it was.  (You NEVER want to promise Albert ANYTHING without knowing what it is first) 

Albert:  Promise me you won't do anything stupid.

To ask that of me meant he didn't understand what depression...real depression...was or what it was like.  And I am grateful that he doesn't.  I wish I didn't.  But, I do. 

I can't promise that I won't do something stupid because that is a rational choice.  Not to do something stupid.  But depression, severe depression, is not rational.  I can count my blessings.  I can look at all my successes.  I can list all those people who love me.  And none of it matters.  It doesn't even put a dent, a spark, a glimmer in the darkness.  It is a really scary place.  Unfeeling, uncaring, un-everything.  The "thought" of me being gone wasn't scary, wasn't sad, wasn't happy, wasn't relieved, wasn't anything.  I made an irrational checklist and it made sense.  My checklist stopped because I hadn't made plans for Wyatt. 

I told Albert that if anything SHOULD happen, that he needed to know there wasn't anything he could have done to stop it.  I told him to make sure that everyone knew that there was nothing more or less that could have been done.  If I did do something stupid, he needed to let everyone know that it wasn't my wish and truly not what I wanted.  But that this disease makes it hard to care and that lack of caring is what kills.  I would never in my right mind do anything to end my life.  But when you are in the throes of a deep depressive state, you aren't in your right mind. 

I think that people would like to think that it's a choice.  But I don't think it is.  When going through my checklist, I wasn't making a choice, I was simply accepting the inevitable.  Like a fork in the road where either path ends at the same destination.  It isn't a choice, just a preference.

Now, it's several weeks later and I am no longer in the "let me get things in order" darkness that precedes suicide.  I am in the "I don't care" phase of depression.  I don't care if I lose my job.  I don't care if I lose my apartment.  I don't care if I lose my car.  I don't care about anything.  This phase is scarier for me than the other because when I am in this stage I KNOW that I will get out of it.  And when I get out of it, I WILL care that I have lost my job, my apartment and my car. 

So, I finally told my boss and I made an appointment with the doctor.  I filled my prescription for my anti-depressant.  It will take a couple of weeks for it to take affect but I am on the road to mental health.  I am proud of myself for getting out of bed today and going to work--better late than never. 

Just know, that if something should happen and someone you love is in a depressive state and they do something stupid.  There's a good chance, a better than good chance, that it wasn't you.  It wasn't what you did.  It wasn't what you didn't do.  It wasn't what you could have done.  It wasn't what you should have done.  It just wasn't you.  It was the blackhole.  And if you read up on blackholes, you will see how inevitable it all is.  Or seems to be. 

I have been extremely lucky.  Don't think I don't know that.  Sometimes my faith saves me.  Sometimes it's an unexpected visit from a friend.  Sometimes it's my dog.  And sometimes, it's my ever abundant vanity that keeps me from getting too close to the blackhole.

Not that I am better but I have made through another day.  And I will make it through another and another.  (Still haven't figured out the Wyatt situation.)