Being comfortable with the uncomfortable

     I've had a few things on my mind, so please excuse me if I ramble.  To start off, I wanted to reiterate my reason for this blog - or at least one of the reasons.  I want to help erase the negative stigma associated with mental illness.  Any kind of mental illness, but because my experience is with depression and anxiety, that is where most of my subject matter lies. The biggest way I know to do this is to make the very personal, public.
     If this is your first time reading my blog, I have dealt with depression for over 23 years.  I almost typed "suffered from depression", but I am not a victim.  I won't allow this to define me.  It's part of me, but it's not me.  I have days where I am sad, I have days where I am happy, I have days in which I can't get out of bed for lack of energy due to my depression and yes, I have days that I want to die.  Most of the time, I say that I don't want to exist.  I use these terms because the fact is, I don't want to die, I just don't want to be a part of the world outside my bedroom.  But, yes, I also have days where I feel that I want to end my life.  The days are not often and I never act on them, but they are there.  Is this normal?  NO!! But it is there and it is real and I will not be ashamed of it.  Are you uncomfortable?  Well get over it, because it's real.  It's part of many people's lives and it's not going to get better if you ignore it because it makes you uncomfortable.  (read my previous post for a little more in this realm)
     Ok, so continuing in the vein of making the personal public, a friend recently asked me a question. Well let me rephrase that.  She started to ask a question, stopped herself, and then would only ask it when I dragged it out of her.  She prefaced the question with, "Remember, I opened my mouth before I thought about what I was asking."  Her question?  Do you think about what it might be like if Jon dies?  Yes, yes I do.  This is another area in which people are afraid to ask questions, or talk or spend any amount of time.  My husband has cancer.  The first two days after he was diagnosed I spent feeling as if he were already dead.  Our lives changed forever.  They will never be the same, regardless of how long Jon lives, or how long I live for that matter.
     Because I try not to think about it, or don't have time, or really just can't for my own mental health, I don't think about it a lot.  But I have thought about where we would live, how I would be a single mom, what his funeral would be like, among many other things.  I hate every minute of thinking about losing the person I love most in this world, but there is part of me that has to.  I have to be prepared for that if it happens.  So chalk that up to one more thing that I am not unwilling to talk about.
     At the same time that there are horrible things that come with a cancer diagnosis (chemo, medical bills, the aforementioned sad thoughts), cancer has actually done a lot for our family in a good way. Jon and I are closer and talk more than we ever have.  We have both gotten reacquainted with God and we have started going to church again.  We are so much more aware of every moment we get to spend together and how precious they all are.  Despite the cliche sound of it, we are living fuller lives now.  We're not perfect, and yes there's always more we can do, but as of now, cancer has gotten us out of the complacent lives we were living.
     This past Saturday, we went to the funeral of a good friend's brother.  One of the things Adam (our friend) said after his brother died was for everyone to grab those they love because life can change in a heartbeat.  This is the same lesson we learned in April, and one that broke our hearts to see others we care about learn.  The funeral was one of the most touching I have been to and I haven't been that affected by someone's death since Henry and Natalie died.  I didn't know Nick, I had only met him once, but my heart broke for his family  This is also a family that has gone out of their way to make us feel supported and loved since Jon's diagnosis.  So I think a big part of my emotional reaction was not wanting people I care about to have the "our lives will never be the same" experience.
     That night, after the funeral, Jon and I were lying in bed and he said "That could have been my funeral today." (Nick and Jon were the same age)  I told him I thought the same thing. We then, very calmly, proceeded to talk about his wishes for his funeral.  There weren't any tears, nothing sad, just a practical conversation.  For those of you that saw the video I made, this is the strength I talked about that could only come from God.
     I can only credit God with any strength I have had in dealing with Jon's diagnosis, as well as my depression.  There is something he has planned for me, I just have yet to figure out what it is.  Yet again, I am finding myself without direction in terms of my career.  My teaching credentials have been rendered useless by forces beyond my control, and I am left to wonder, again, what I want to be when I grow up.  I feel like I have a million puzzle pieces in front of me, but have no idea what the picture is supposed to look like.  It's not even really what I want to be, but what I'm supposed to be. It's on the tip of my brain and hopefully I'll figure it out soon.  But I know it has to be there, because I'm still here.

   

Why are you surprised?

A little over a month ago I learned of the death of someone I once considered one of my best friends.  We dated in high school, but even after we broke up we remained friends.  I used to talk to him often.  Then, like so many friendships, we drifted apart and spoke less and less.  I hadn't spoken to him in probably 5 years when I learned that he took his life.  We had talked about depression and I knew he, too, suffered from it.  It was actually Matt that made me realize so long ago that the way I was feeling was not normal.  He told me I was sad all the time, and he gave me his copy of "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."  I think I had a normal reaction in wishing that I had kept in touch with him.  Not because I think I could have saved him, but maybe to have a little more to hold to.  Rest in peace, Matty.  I love you and I'll see you again someday.

Today, the U.S. was rocked by the news of Robin Williams' passing.  So many people on Facebook expressed shock.  I don't think people that knew or heard he dealt with depression were necessarily surprised, but I think, mostly, they were surprised that he is dead. He had everything, right?  He was loved by so many, he was married, he was wealthy, he was hilarious. See, when we hear someone suffers from depression, we don't think death.  When we hear cancer, that's where our minds go.  If you heard someone had cancer but weren't going to do anything about it, you'd think, "Well, you're going to die!"  But if you heard someone was dealing with depression and wasn't getting help, you wouldn't think the same.

This is where the stigma of depression comes in.  No one thinks it's that serious.  No one thinks there's a time limit.  Now, I realize that comparing depression to cancer is comparing apples to oranges.  Believe me, no one knows that better than me right now.  But I think about the things I have heard in my 23 years with this disease and it makes me angry.  To some, I was trying to get attention. (In fact, there are those who think I still am)  To others, I was no longer fun to be around...so they stopped being around me.  To yet others, I was/am crazy.  In all of these reactions, I am someone to be avoided.  I'm annoying, I'm selfish, I'm boring, I'm nuts..I'm...I'm...

So give those answers to someone who is not just sad, but deeply sad.  Someone who is terrified, someone who feels alone.  Someone whose brain is telling them they are worthless, and all the people around them are proving them right. Someone whose mind is consumed with dark thoughts, self-inflicting thoughts and those thoughts provoke them just as much as their audience does.  Now - why are you surprised? 

You're surprised because you didn't know it was that bad.  You're surprised because they were always smiling.  You're surprised because you thought they had others to help them.  You're surprised because you didn't think they were serious.  You're surprised because they didn't tell anyone.  You're surprised...You're surprised...You're surprised.

It's time for people to stop being surprised.  It's time to stop being passive.  It's time to stop ignoring your gut instinct.  Time to stop assuming there are others.  And for God's sake - stop playing the "they're trying to get attention, they're just being dramatic, I had no idea..." card!  This is a real thing!!  This happens!!  And the fact that it keeps happening means that there are still people out there that don't understand that.  Are we going to be able to save everyone?  No, of course not.  But it shouldn't be because we didn't do everything we could.