Ghost of Depression Past

 

I saw a new doctor the other day.  Since moving back home, I knew I needed a medical care provider.

I ain't getting any younger.

Well that and the fact that I have some health issues that need managing.

It was a much longer appointment that I figured on.  I was impressed that she took the time to get to know me and my health history.  

When it came time to talk about how I manage my depression, I got a little anxious.  Even though I have battled depression for a very long time, it sometimes isn't easy to talk about without my eyes leaking a little.

To accept the causes is a little painful and then to openly talk about them is almost traumatic.  

When I had to tell her about the time that I had contemplated suicide it was a little painful.  It is harder for me to talk about it because it is hard to hide the emotion when you are face to face.  When I write about it, you can't see the tears stream down my face or my lip quiver.

I have come a long way in my healing from the past trauma.  The years of mental abuse, self sabotage, feelings of being unlovable, failure, sexual assault, and various other bits and pieces of hell had taken its toll and all came to a head.

You can read that here ----> Click Right Here

The best healing I have done was just by moving home.  Its a place where I have felt safe and secure.  Being with people who have known me for a very long time has helped me reconnect with myself before it all went south.

The doctor asked me if I still felt suicidal.  I explained that I never really was suicidal.  It was that one moment of irrational thinking that could have been the end but instead of cutting or taking pills, I decided to stop and just write.

And that helped a little

The other part was to accept my traumas and not let them mold me.  I own them and keep them in a part of me.  I have built on the fact that they did not break me.

I also learned to accept who I am.  I don't hide my true self from anyone.  I own that part of me too.  My true self is someone who surprises me.  I don't have much of a filter these days.  I say what I think and am honest with those around me.  I am also honest with myself.

I no longer accept anything less than I deserve.  I deserve to be happy.

When things go wrong, I no longer blame myself.

Rejection no longer cripples me.  If I ain't your cup of tea, I can't sweeten it with my sugar.  My life goes on.

I recognize my triggers.  I steer clear of them or I don't allow them to control me, I control them.

My boundaries are set.  As I see myself in fullness, it is easier to see others in the same way.

I also try to communicate well.  If I need clarity, I ask questions.  If the answers are honest and open, I accept them and take them to heart.  Sometimes the answers aren't always what I hope to hear, but it does give some peace to know how the other person feels.

I am still not 100% but I can say that the depression episodes are very far and few between now.  I do laugh more and I feel happier.  I see it on my face and in my heart.

I am thankful for those who are a part of my life and accept my quirks and never ask for anything more than I am capable of giving of myself.  I am truly blessed by the friendships that I continue to have and I love everyone of them wholly and completely.

Losing My Religion

I just took the dog out to pee and the night air was so mild.  I looked up into the night and found myself praying to God.

This might seem sort of normal to most (or not) but for me it was profound.

I've been an atheist for years.  I had lost my faith.  After so many hurts and scars, I lost my trust in so many, even God.  I suppose many could judge me and wonder how I could turn my back to God.  When prayers went unanswered and a pastor and congregation failed to be an instrument of support in my most desperate time of need, it was easy to let go of my faith.

I don't talk about the bad things.  They still linger in the background, more as a reminder of how strong I can be.  The best way to heal to to acknowledge the past but look to the future.

I think the most profound aspect of healing was my decision to move back home.  

Back to where I was before I was broken.

Catching myself praying for strength during this time caused tears because I knew that my healing process is working.  I am letting people in.  I tell people that I love them and that they matter to me.  Opening up my heart to accept love in is all part of it.

Tears fell and I was thankful that I am able to forgive God for some of the heavier wrongs in my life.  I think I am seeing them more as scars, not fully healed but still able to see the wound and remember that it didn't kill me.

I am not fully healed, hell, I may never be.  

But I have begun to forgive myself, those who have hurt me and most importantly....

forgive God.

Amen

His Voice

 

I actually heard him before I saw him.  His voice is the very same that once whispered in my ear, the very same that laughed with mine, the very same that lied.

He didn't see me.  I made sure if that.  If we had made eye contact, I am not sure what would have happened and I just am not ready to find out.

I knew I would run into him eventually.  I knew he had moved back to our hometown and it isn't a very large place.  Hell, technically, we live on a freaking island.

It was eight years ago that we last spoke, but my ears could tell, it was him.  I took a peek to see and it was him but only fatter and his hair was growing in a ring instead of being bald.  I made sure that he wouldn't see me.  I had my mask on and my hair over my eyes.  I am still not prepared for a polite hello or even a nod.

A punch to the head maybe.....

It is amazing how just a simple sound can trigger such an emotion.  Everything flooded back into the forefront of my mind.  The memory of an immense hurt and feelings of inadequacy, such a powerful emotion to feel.

I've been through therapy and worked hard at getting my strength back.  I have learned that what happened was not due to anything that I had done.  Cheaters and liars do what they do because of their own demons and they take apart anyone in their wake.

That instant of hearing his voice, triggered that one instance of going back to the place before I got help, that one instance of feeling small and insignificant.  I felt that I wasn't enough once again.  It was a dark place that I really didn't want to encounter again.

Seriously though, there wasn't anything special about him.  He is an ordinary man, doing an ordinary job in a small town.  He isn't a prince or even important.  He just was him.

And yet, during our time, he was mine and I trusted everything.  I believe everything.  

But that was my side of the coin....

A different reality was happening on his side.

I will never truly understand why he was the way he was with me.  I never will.  I can't just ask him because he holds no truth.

Sometimes I wish that he would know my truth.  How I was left and how broken I was.  I wish he could know how much hurt his deceit had caused.  Perhaps it really doesn't matter now. 

It's been eight years.  Eight long years of trying to figure out how to trust again.  How to open up and show my heart.  How to let someone in.  Even now, I still don't know if I can fully do it.  My heart hurts in fear just typing it.

Not everyone is my ex.  <-- I need that on a card or something to remind myself.

It is still strange how his voice is what I heard first after so many years.  It caused me to stumble a little, but I am good now.

Back to the Begining

 

I always knew that I was going to move once my youngest was done with high school.  I was living in a town for 22 years and still felt like an outsider.  Not by anyone's fault.  It was just a town that was small and everyone knew everyone.  I just didn't fit in.

It also didn't help that I was divorced in this small town and my ex lived within walking distance.  He also married a nut job and frankly, I didn't like running in to her. (Yes, he married the nut job from this post.)

I wasn't exactly sure where I was going to go but I did know, I wasn't staying.

I took a trip out to Phoenix, AZ to visit my very dear friend.  I wanted to see if I could possibly call it home.  I booked my flight and in March I went.  This was at the very beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic.  Toilet paper was in short supply and spring training for baseball was cancelled.  I was concerned that I might not be able to get home.  But then again, it would have made the moving decision easy.

I loved Arizona.  It is very beautiful and Scottsdale is so inspiring for a creative mind.  I thought that maybe I could live there.  But then I remembered....it gets hot.  I know, I know, its a dry heat.  I don't care.  When it is 120 degrees, it is still hot.  I'm not a huge fan of hot.

I came back to Wisconsin with fond memories that I will keep close.  I will go back again.

But I still was wondering where to go.

Katie was graduating soon and I wanted to move before it got to be close to winter.  I don't like moving in the winter.

I had thought about moving to Appleton or Green Bay.  I would still be close to my daughter.  My son recently moved to lower Michigan and he wouldn't be too far.  I looked at apartments and jobs but something just wasn't there.  I didn't feel like that was the right choice either.

I was joking with my sister and she said I could come live in her basement.  That would have been a good idea except I don't think her husband could put up with both of us.  Then our talk became more serious.

I decided to move home.

Home being Upper Michigan, Yooperland, Copper Country....

The more I planned, the more excited I got.  My friends and family were there.  I could easily find a job at Walmart until I figured out what I really wanted to do.

I set the plan in motion.

In September, I accepted a job with Walmart.  The Walmart where I first started in an empty building in 1994.  I then scheduled some apartment showings.

I saw one apartment and at my first steps in, my eyes teared up.  I kept apologizing to the landlord.  I felt that this was home.

That evening I joined my life long friends at their camp along the shores of Lake Superior.  I had only planned to stay for dinner as it had been a long day.  As I sat and watched the waves roll and chatted with my friends I truly felt as if I was home.  It was getting late and we were laughing about something so funny that we worried about our bladders, tears rolling down and holding stomachs, I overheard my friend's husband say "there is a lot of healing happening here".

How true that sounded.

After so many years of hurt feelings, failed relationships, heartbreak, trauma, hard work, raising kids as a single parent, I truly felt I was home.

It has been about three months that I've been back.  I've seen my sister more in the last four weeks than I have in the last four years.  I've hung out with friends and enjoyed the pleasure of deck drinking in November.  I've met new friends.  I've received many hugs and welcome homes.

It is so good to be back to the beginning.