I've dealt with depression since 2009. I most likely have had it all my life but didn't know it. I fell into a deep depression in August of 2008, just before the one year
anniversary of my brother’s death. I finally started medication in the spring
of 2009 and it saved me from falling further into a very deep dark place. On and off over the years
I've caught myself on the cusp of this deep dark hole, often enough that I named it. I call it “My Cave” because I
want to isolate myself and stay in bed with the curtains drawn and the lights
off. My Cave has called my name for days, weeks, even months on end over the
years. There were times when I couldn't fight it's call, even with medication, and would give in for a day or at worst a week. During the past year I've been able to keep it at bay with medication
and with the love and support of W. Having someone to talk to about everything - no matter how big or small- is often what I need most. In December I started having stomach issues
and the first medication I cut out was my antidepressant. NOT one of my best ideas and
looking back I can see that it was extremely stupid considering the hell I was walking through with mom at the time. However, hindsight is
always 20/20. Since stopping the meds I've been battling My Cave and generally
losing small step by small step until I was already falling and didn't see it. Between all the things mom would say and how overwhelmed I was caring for her, My Cave was having way too much fun tweaking my thoughts and feelings. On Thursday I saw my physician and have since
restarted my medication and I see a huge difference already. What made me see the light?
On Thursday as I was pulling out of our driveway to go to
the doctor I tuned in some random station and was just letting the music wash
over me. I had two cards in the passenger seat- one from my aunt and one from a
family friend. It was looking at those two sympathy cards that had me catching
my breath. I can't say exactly what got through- all I know is in that moment I suddenly saw what was happening. And it was the wake up I desperately needed. I
cried as I drove and played back the past week.
On Friday the 6th, my mom passed away at 8:18 am. The night
before I was able to spend time with her and say my goodbyes. I was able to
tell her I forgave her for the harshness of my upbringing and I found some
peace in that- peace that I hadn't had in a long time. Friday morning Dad and I
were with her as she took her final breath. I am blessed to have been there and
see that she wasn't in pain or suffering. There truly is something defining
about being with your loved one as they pass from this life to the next. It’s
an experience that changes you fundamentally and profoundly. I honestly can't
put it into the correct words- I've tried for years. It is, simply stated, life altering.
After mom passed came the part that always has and always
will suck- making the phone calls to loved ones to let them know of her
passing. I received various reactions: shock, indifference, sympathy and lots of tears. I cried
through 98% of the calls. I watched my dad make his calls and saw the pain it
was causing him. I wanted to take the pain away from him and knew I couldn’t.
It’s a hard spot to be in and one My Cave used against me later on. One of the calls still plays over in my head because
of the tone of the conversation. I had called an old family friend- a woman I've
known since I can remember. She was always a second mom to my brothers
and me when we were growing up. It was this woman, in her loving tone that told
me she was here for me and that if there was anything, anything at all, that
she could do to just let her know. I can't remember everything she said but
those few words and the way she said them- they stick with me. I know without a
doubt that she would do anything she could for me. I've never doubted that
love. I never once questioned if she would be there if I needed her. I've never
called on her, to put that bond to use. One reason being I never wanted to burden her
and two, I knew if it got back to my mom I’d have hell to pay. Acknowledging
why these words are sticking with me is acknowledging the grief I have over the
bond mom and I didn’t have. I never questioned my mom being there for me- she
was always there when Tony and I needed her. I however have often questioned
how much or little she truly loved me. As I've written before, our relationship
wasn't the picture perfect illusion we portrayed. I cry for the relationship I wish I'd had with
my mom. I grieve over what wasn't and the pain of what was. Prior to Thursday
My Cave wouldn't let me see this. All it would let me see is that I had failed to take Dad's pain away and that I was inept at knowing what he needs from me. Illogical yes, but My Cave has never been and never will be logical.
The rest of the 6th was spent running
errands with Dad and W. We, dad and I, needed to keep busy. We weren't ready to
sit and cry yet, so off to lunch and to Sam’s Club we went. Everything was
going okay when I wandered down the canned food aisle and found myself staring
at the fruit cocktail cups I would normally be picking up for mom. And that’s
when the tears flowed- standing in an aisle of Sam’s Club. It was a peek in to
the changes that would be starting right then- my life with my mom and my life
without my mom. I didn't break down in some grand fashion. I simply let the
tears fall as they needed. I pulled it
together and kept on shopping. I didn't even cry that night over it- My Cave
instead turned a normally happy dream of Harry Potter into one of death and Dementors. It was awful and when I awoke on Saturday I felt like I hadn't slept
a wink. I ended up taking a naps on Saturday and Sunday. I pulled away from W without realizing it.
Over the weekend it was decided to switch bedrooms with dad.
It means he’s downstairs in his own little world and we, W and I, are upstairs
by our son. It changed how the house feels and it makes me feel totally grown
up. I no longer live in the basement of my parent’s home. It’s a change I didn't
think would hit me quite as hard as it has. I was left thinking, “When did I
grow up?”, “How will I support my dad?”, “How do I make our family better and
stronger?”, “How am I going to afford all the bills?” and so many other things that I suddenly felt lay on my shoulders alone. I didn't spend the time I should have on these things; I didn't talk them out
with W as I should have. Instead My Cave took over. I let My Cave tell me it was all on me and let
myself get overwhelmed. All I could see was the shit once again rolling down
hill and landing at my feet- for me to dig through alone. I was isolating myself just as My Cave told me to.
As we moved items from one floor to the other over the course of the next few days, My Cave was enjoying the freedom it
suddenly had in my head. Every little thing W said or did was suddenly a GIANT
flaw. He couldn’t be upset that he kicked a table. He couldn't cuss at dropping
something. He couldn't let his frustrations show even the littlest bit. I took
it all as an affront to the grief I was swimming in- though I wasn't telling him how I felt. I started looking for a way
to tell him off. I even started doubting if we could make this relationship
work long term. Things were changing at a pace I wasn't ready for and My Cave
used this against me. Now keep in mind, I didn't realize this was happening
while it was happening. It was on Thursday that the light turned on.
While I drove to the doctor on Thursday afternoon, I talked things out. Yes, I was
the weird woman in the car talking to herself. Only I wasn't just talking to
myself- I was talking to My Cave. I suddenly saw that I was doing what My Cave had made me good at- pushing the good out of my life. I saw how I was pushing W away and vowed to cut the crap. I was expecting perfection from everyone, especially myself, when I was slowly crumbling inside. I gave Dad leeway to grieve as he saw fit but none to myself. I kept making up lists of things to accomplish and not getting far enough on them. I was holding myself to a standard no human can achieve. My Cave was definitely in control and was enjoying its new found freedom. When I did give in to the tears I did it alone, exactly how My Cave preferred me to. I saw that My Cave was trying to take over and acknowledged that I
need the meds back on board so that I could keep myself balanced. As soon as I
stepped in to the exam room I started crying. I knew I needed the help and I knew
I'd get it.
When I got home from the doctor on Thursday W was cooking dinner. I told him
I needed to talk and that it might hurt to hear what I had to say. I cried a lot. I admitted I was looking for a reason to push
him away and that until the meds were level in me, he was not to believe me if
I said “Get the F*$% out of my house.” I told him that I was waiting for him to
treat me the way my ex had when Tony passed away. I admitted I was feeling
overwhelmed with all the changes that were happening. I explained what I was
worrying over and we were able to discuss those concerns. I reiterated to W
that I want a future with him and that he is the one I love- now and always. I did see how it hurt him
to hear me say “I was ready to tell you to get out and stay out.” I knew I had to be brutally honest even
if it did hurt. I explained to W how My Cave manipulates me- how it
turns little things into big issues and big things into little items so that
nothing gets dealt with properly. I talked about how he can best help me. I’m
lucky that W understands and will give me what I need when I need it-
whether it is a simple hug or some time to be alone. At the end of our
conversation I was able to see My Cave retreat and feel some relief.
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