And not in the funny way. Not that there is a funny way to think about killing yourself I guess, but the thought wasn’t in line with the whole “I’m out of grapes again?! What the hell, I need to put myself out of my misery“. No.. it was not like that.
Not like that at all.
As some of you know, HAD has broke up with me again. He decided it was too hard, skipped Christmas with my family (after buying his plane ticket to come here) and now wants me completely out of his life. Even though he says he still loves me, even though we’ve made plans, even though I have his Christmas presents wrapped and sitting in my closet … he’s done. What I want doesn’t matter, or just doesn’t matter enough.
Nothing has changed medically for him. There is still cancer, still depression, still the macho need to do this all alone. Still a refusal to think anyone but him might be able to make this easier. And I guess that’s part of what bothers me. That I feel like I failed. At the most basic level, I failed because I wasn’t smart enough or articulate enough or wise enough to just find the words to pull him out of his fog and show him that retreating from everyone isn’t the answer. I tried so hard to find the words, the words everyone knows- the words “You need to see someone. You shouldn’t be doing this alone.”, but however hard I tried to say that, however hard I concentrated, however long I drove down dark roads by myself sobbing and searching in my vocabulary for words to pull him out of all of this, nothing worked. And I feel like I failed my best friend. I feel like I failed both of us.
I’ve been sad before. I’ve wore sweatpants and alternated between eating everything in my fridge or refusing to eat at all. I’ve stopped showering and dedicated my life to all night drives or all day Real Housewives marathons. I’ve cried and wailed and when I was too exhausted, I whimpered. But this sad is different.
It’s the kind of sad that makes you feel like a burden. To everyone. And the people who hear your sad story- the ones brave enough to listen, (many people feel this type of sad is contagious and stay away as soon as they hear about your hives that won’t heal or the sleep you are not getting) they try so hard to say the right thing. They tell you that they are here for you, that you can call anytime, that they are there for you. But the thing is? When you are this sad, or this type of sad, reaching out to people- even the people who have told you that they are here for you, is almost impossible to do. That’s what no one tells you.
Add to the fact that you realize, when it is time to reach out- that the group of those you can reach out to is much smaller. It’s easy to let friendships fall apart when you are worried about someone you love. And I’ve done that. More than once. So when it’s 4 am and you just want someone to say “brandybeans, it’s going to be okay“, you realize that you’ve demolished that friendship and there’s no way you can pick up your phone. So you put it back down. And you stare at it. And you wipe away your tears and go clean your bathroom. Again.
Last night, I told HAD I couldn’t keep doing this. He had to make a choice to either keep me in his life or not- and if he picked the second choice, I was really going to be gone. And he picked the second choice. As hard as it is to be dumped, add the idea of being dumped by someone who is dealing with cancer and depression, who dumps you during the holidays and who explains that he is dumping you only because he doesn’t want you to have to deal with what he’s going through. It takes the sadness up a notch. Or fifty notches.
People will tell you to let yourself cry. That you need that time to let yourself be sad. But I’ve cried. I’ve cried so long and so hard that I scared myself. I scared myself thinking that I might not stop crying. I’ve cried until my eyes burned, and then what? Then I cried more.
Others will tell you to keep busy. I’ve done that too. I’ve organized and labeled and cleaned. I’ve washed and dried and mopped. I’ve vacuumed and sorted. Scrubbed and folded. I’ve wandered grocery stores late at night comparing window cleaner. I’ve found myself scrubbing baseboards as the sun comes up. And when my hands were raw, I cleaned more. I’ve kept busy.
But last night I was too exhausted to do either. I felt like I broke my eyes, that I could not make another tear even though my heart ached. And I was too tired to keep busy, keep my mind occupied. And as I laid there wishing that I could just sleep so this would all stop, I found myself thinking the darkest thoughts I’ve ever had. Thoughts that make me ashamed today but are important to recognize.
I know I need help. I know HAD made his choice and even though the choice to alienate himself from everyone who loves him is the wrong one, he’s made it. And nothing I can say or do can change that. That doesn’t change how much I love him and how everyday I will hope that he makes a different choice- not for me, but for himself. But I can’t wait for that day, I can’t stop my life while I wait for him to try and save his. I know this. I’m not really sure what my next step is, but I know I need to make one. I feel more alone than ever before and anxious beyond measure, but I will do it.
I’m not writing this for people to feel sorry for me. I’m not writing this for blog hits or people to send me emails. I just figured, that if someone like me- someone who is viewed as outgoing and happy and annoyingly cheerful 99% of the time could feel this low, that other people must have felt this low too. And must have been as scared as I was last night. It’s easy to write when things are going well. When the glass is half full, when the world is going your way. But? When you are feeling low, words are often harder to find for many people. So seeing that this could happen to anyone, and knowing that other people struggle with this type of sad too- I thought writing something might make things easier for the next person dealing with this kind of sad.
(I thought about password protecting this post. I know HAD is going to read it and as selfish as it is- I don’t like that he will get to see how I am doing while I have no way to understand how he is doing. But I also know that it’s good for people to understand how depression affects people. And hiding behind a password protected post isn’t confronting an issue that I need to confront. And so, it’s worth it. And if you are reading this Jay? I do love you.)