The month of August is akin to a month of darkness for me. I get very depressed, my thoughts are dark and often suicidal, and my heart, soul and being seems filled with pain and hurt and sad. Nothing makes it better, not a better diet and more exercise, not solitude or company, not drugs or alcohol. I can’t drown out the sadness. I’ve been like this for the past 13 years. I hate August. You know how people look forward to Christmas all year long? Well I’m like, but in reverse with August. The only thing that seem to make it more bearable is when J holds me at night and strokes my hair, as if I were a child. Soothing, simple. I forget for a while, enough to fall asleep.
It’s very hard for me to put this into writing, because I am admitting a weakness. And above all, I do not want people to see me as weak. I do not want people to pity me. And I do not want people, ever, to think that I say how dark I’m feeling for attention. Because all I want is to be left alone, but that hasn’t been working very well for me over the years, so I’m trying something new. With great fear and trepidation. But I felt great relief when I admitted to T yesterday that I had some really bad thoughts running through my mind. And apart from J, who bless his soul is the one to pick up the pieces when he finds me crying on the couch rocking and mumbling incoherently at 3am, nobody else knows how bad it really gets. And it felt so bloody good to tell someone, and who better to tell? So I think this is the next step, because such a few amount of people actually know about my blog. I’ve also been thinking to consulting a therapist, but I don’t want them to file me away as crazy and pump me full of sleeping pills and anti-depressants. Maybe it’s a chemical imbalance in my brain.
All I know, is that I always feel like shit when August comes rolling in, and that its getting worst, and that its getting dangerous. Pray for my soul..
Love I really think seeing a grief counsellor or cognitive behaviour therapy specialist would be excellent for you. After just having read one paragraph I was going to ask if you ever saw a grief counsellor after your dad died. I am guessing no.
ReplyDeleteWe are all weak. We are all broken. We are all in need of healing. There are professionals who can partner with you on your journey to wholeness. No therapist "files clients away as crazy". Really! And you know, anti-depressants are not the worst thing in the world! I am detecting that you have been brought up to fear and have contempt for psychiatry and its patrons, but it's just a silly cultural bias; let it go, see the professionals for what they are - they are mostly compassionate people who got into a helping career because they want to serve, they want to help.
Yes, I agree, I think its time I opened my mind to some outside help. This year just seems so particularly rough. I was actually forced into seeing a psychiatrist as of 10 through 13, I saw maybe 2-3 different ones every year, and then the CEGEP I was going to (St-Lambert) made it compulsory for me after the first semester. I cannot express how much I hated those sessions. I firmly believe they fucked me up more than I originally was.
DeleteMan this is a late reply, I've been off blogger for a bit because my phone ap confuses me. But we've talked in person about this, T. I get the not wanting to be weak, but we are T's. And T's share everything, even things that aren't pleasant. We got through August together. And we'll always be there to give the other one a hand when they need it. LOOOOVEEE
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