One problem with this blog is keeping track of the chapters and what not… trying to organise it as a book has been a reason not to blog as much, because well, a living book is hard to keep track of, in terms of the dates and trying to work around WordPress’ limitations.

From this post onwards… I’m gonna declare I’m lazy. I’ll just blog, and ignore the chapters. It’ll help me to blog more frequently, when I just feel like it.

This blog was written for depression awareness. It’s become an outlet for me when I need one. I want to blog whenever I think it’ll help someone to understand depression a bit better. Or when, like in this case, I need to explain what happened. I’ve found a voice in writing beyond anything I’ve ever done in my entire life, in my entire IT career. I don’t know if this will be the future for me. 

Yesterday… I didn’t know if I could have a future. 

For those who don’t know, something happened, and I posted this on FB yesterday:

Quick update – and background. My old therapist returned much earlier than expected, and also quickly arranged to see me much earlier than expected. I’m still trying to catch up with my emotions on this development. I’m very thankful, but I don’t know whether to dare to hope. Fellow Christians would find this hard to believe or understand. Please just accept that I just struggle.

I had therapy on Monday. It was terrifying. We dug into something I didn’t know existed that made me shake and cry in fear. We need to address it next week when we meet again. That’s the backdrop to what happened yesterday.

I left the house to try to do my regular fiction writing. I struggled to concentrate because of the specter of what had happened. I went to the arcade first, and clawed out a ridiculous looking toy which I shared with my private support group including my wife. I went to my regular place to try to write. I was struggling and already considering going home, but I forced myself to keep writing, even though most of it will need to be reworked.

Then when I was considering whether to draw my comic, something private happened. I can’t share about it here. If you know, you know. The aftermath is what I can share, as an apology to making my friends worry about me.

I struggled to get home after the thing happened. I called my wife to warn her, and sent her screenshots. I stayed in my seat at the cafe for a long time. I just couldn’t get up. I didn’t want to. I felt like the world had caved in on me, I felt worthless, I felt like I was so useless and hopeless. Nothing mattered in that space of time, as I struggled not to cry in public. Finally I decided that I had to show that toy physically to my wife, and I messaged her that. I kept that in the forefront of my mind, and kept one hand on the toy as I slogged towards the bus interchange. I couldn’t think of safety. I could only think of trying to show my wife the toy. 

And digging my nails into my palms, because the pain helped me to stay focused on walking. On moving. Not on the pain that had taken over my heart.

I did message someone to see if they were free to help me home. It was that bad. But that person wasn’t available, through no fault of his own. God kept me safe enough anyway, in the crowds around me. It felt good to be a nobody at that moment.

I got home safely. 

The tears came later. In the midst of my grief, I don’t know why I posted what I did on FB, but it felt right to do it. That message has been kicking itself around in my head for the longest time, and it was super extra loud, so I released it. I pummeled the wall when I showered just to try to work out the pain and stay present. I didn’t have dinner because I didn’t want to eat, though I had a pack of Ensure (a nutrient rich meal replacement). I did have supper when I got way too hungry.

I struggle even now. I struggle with the kind words that others have said in response to my FB post, none of which I feel I deserve. But the kind words held me in place, especially the words that reminded me to lean on the love of others. It almost wasn’t enough to overpower the urge.

The tears finally flowed though, as I mumbled my words to my wife, who reassured me, and just was there with me. And video games, to take the edge off the pain. And as I cried, I tried to take care of my guinea pigs, which helped a little. And I cried again, when the pain got too much, and my wife held on to me as I tried to regain sanity, as I tried to stop the sobs which just kept coming, as I tried to breathe through the tears, as the pain just kept coming in waves. 

But the tears helped. I slept at about 3. Woke about 8. Couldn’t get back to sleep. Had to blog.

I’m sorry to make everyone worry. I’m sorry that I posted what I did on FB. I’m sorry for existing, for being who I am. I’ll strive to be better but I don’t know how to be, since I suck so badly. I wish I didn’t have to stay, but I have to, because God wants me to. 

Those are the real words from my heart, though my brain also says, I have depression, those are half truths and lies, this too will pass, God loves me, you guys love me, etc. etc.

And I really struggle to accept that I deserve anything at all. And if I don’t deserve any of this… I should just…

Just….

Just.