Robin Williams' suicide really filled up the facebook feeds...there were some really good videos trying to show what depression feels like. I really liked the cartoon one about the black dog. There was the one with the black kid with the moustache who talked really fast. I would put links here but I am sure you have seen them. They are both on upworthy if you want to look them up.
They do a good job of explaining depression. But I don't think depression is the only reason for suicide. I think sometimes your brain chemicals can get screwed up and it doesn't necessarily feel like depression but still wears your brain out dealing with the thoughts.
I have been depressed, I have been suicidal and I have been what I am now and it's neither. I blame it all on the peri menopause but to be fair, lately some of the blame belongs on low self esteem. Ever since it took the blow back in February with the email I inadvertently discovered, the somewhat innocent and yet oh so powerful email. My self esteem had been on a roller coaster ride.
I am happy. I am not depressed. I have been there, I know what it feels like.
This comes out of nowhere, so I tend to blame the hormones, because just as quickly as it comes, it goes. Sometimes not quick enough and it exhausts me. It makes me ponder crazy ideas. Not suicide...not yet. But I do worry that one day that may seem like a solution. I am hopeful it won't creep up on me, that I will see it coming and take the right steps to stop it.
My real worry is that this isn't hormones, that it is the beginning of something I won't be able to handle on my own. That the lessons learned in therapy won't cut it. I refuse to go on any medication again because that doesn't cure it, it only brings different problems. I have considered therapy again. I don't think I am at that point yet. I worry about schizophrenia or just being plain crazy.
And then I use these worries to justify the crazy ideas. Ideas like not burdening my husband with a mentally ill wife. He already had to deal with my crazy when he met me and for many years after while I sought help. I don't want him to go through that again. I considered being homeless...just leaving...but with my ATM card, so I would have food to eat...I am apparently not THAT crazy yet. But who even thinks about things like that?
Running away won't get me away from me and that is where people get their suicidal ideas. I seriously haven't even considered it. Because I am happy. I really am. But I am also tired. Tired of the voices telling me that I am not good enough, telling me things just to irritate me, telling me not to trust Dave, when he has given me no reason not to.
I told my friends that I have had new voices...ones that speak in Spanish and even a black guy, talking in whatever the politically correct way is to say a black guy sounds....ever since I mentioned it, I haven't heard them... they are just background noise, repeating a phrase or two over and over. I don't know what it is, I plan to pay attention next time and write it down...they don't tell me to do things and they aren't saying violent things...does that make it less crazy?
The other voices are the real problem and they aren't voices in the same way...it isn't someone speaking, it is me. Me telling me things that aggravate me, things I don't believe but get tired of hearing because it wears me down and makes me start to believe. Start to believe that it is really likely that I am going to go crazy, like padded cell crazy and that I should save Dave the heartache and get out now. Telling me I don't deserve him. Telling me I am selfish for leaving pharmacy. Asking if the happiness I feel is worth the price of making him feel the stress of being the provider now. Telling me I am not a good person. Telling me I don't like me.
This goes on for days and then boom it's done. Like the black dog video says....it's just gone. And I am free. Free to be happy, free to remind myself that none of it is true. Free to think only a crazy person contemplates being homeless....
So I can understand Robin Williams' death. People can't comprehend someone with so much to live for taking their own life. I don't pretend to know what his mind was thinking. I don't know if he was depressed. All I know is I understand why sometimes the only solution to end the voices is to end your life. It is a drastic measure and maybe he did a good job hiding the struggle before hand. I know I hate to burden people with my stuff. Mainly because people tend to downplay what you say. They don't say the "right things". They even laugh, a nervous laugh, an uncomfortable laugh, but a laugh nonetheless....it is awkward and uncomfortable and so you keep it to yourself waiting for the light to come back and bring you out of the darkness...it always does, but then I guess it doesn't for everyone.
We put statuses up trying to reach out, providing phone numbers and websites, but honestly, that isn't what is needed....I think once you get to that point you can't reach out for help...you need someone to reach out to you...if you know someone that has ever been even remotely close to suicidal, you need to be diligent in questioning them. Even when they seem happy, seem like they are coping.
We tend to think it's too personal to ask those type of questions...but I think it may be the only true solution.
Many will read this and think "She is oversharing. This is too personal" and THAT is the problem. It makes you uncomfortable to know I feel this way. It makes YOU uncomfortable to ask how someone feels, you don't want to know that they aren't all right...that puts a burden on you, a responsibility for their welfare. Or maybe you are just afraid they will feel you are intruding and get mad...if they really need help, they won't...and if they don't need help they are probably, mentally, in the right place to know you are coming from a place of caring and appreciate your concern.
I still haven't even decided if I will hit the "publish" button or just "save"...because even though I don't think many read this, I know reading it may change how you think of me, but is that a bad thing? For you to know I am human, that I hurt myself with these thoughts, that I am not always the confident, competent person you believe me to be.
Is today a day when I believe that what you think of me isn't as important as what I think of myself? Because if it is... you will be reading this...
In a week I wouldn't be able to write this, because the darkness will have passed...the black dog gone..and the memory of these thoughts will be pushed so far back, I won't be able to be this blunt and open, I will not only be happy but have trouble remembering when I doubted if I really ever was happy.
I am not depressed...I am probably not even crazy....I definitely have "issues" but at the moment I have got them under control.
I have already come so far out of the darkness this time that I don't even worry that the next time I won't...this morning I wouldn't have been able to write that...it is a worry I get during these "spells', a worry that this time will be the time I am forever crazy. Tonight I believe it was, once again, just hormones...I don't think I don't deserve Dave, I believe it's ok to not be a pharmacist and I know I have a good heart and am a good person. And I can feel this way even though tomorrow is the day my son goes back East....so THAT could have caused a depression but instead I am overall happy, with just a touch of sadness, knowing I will miss him but see him again soon.
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