Oh, the exhaustion after fighting life-sucking depression that wants you to die. Then, the next morning you say, “I’m alive and I want to live!”
My cycles are that fast. One day I’m in the throes of depression–crashed. The next I might still be there or, more likely than not, I’ll be back up halfway to “normal” or almost normal. I never get to what the Psychiatrist or I deem “normal”. Oh, but he has my manic/hypomanic moods just where he wants them: 0 And that’s good.
But I am glad to be alive with my hubby and knowing I will see my sons, daughter-in-law and grandkids again.
I want to see their faces smile when we’re all together again. I want to hear the little ones say, “Gamma, look at this I made. Will you play trains with me?”
My hubby and I are supposed to be having the time of our lives right now. We’re both retired and should be having fun with friends and exploring everything Florida has to see and do.
And my Dad. I want to spend as much time as I can with him while I still can. He’s a stubborn old Scotsman and has survived much longer than the doctors expected. He’s still hanging on to prove them wrong, as he would put it.
There is so much of life to live. I don’t know how my thoughts, moods and mind come together to self destruct because deep, deep inside that’s not what I want to do.
I shared with hubby about my dangerous suicidal thoughts. I even told him the method. It was very hard to do. I was sure he would be angry or think less of me. I thought something in our relationship would be ruined. That wasn’t the case at all! He was glad I shared. He want’s me to keep him informed of when these horrible moods are moving in so he can help me get through it. He understands it’s not my choosing to go through this. He’s not going to smother me by not letting out of his sight either. He’ll help me while we’re together and if it comes on while he’s away, he says to call him and he’ll come home immediately.
He’s my man. I love him.
Let’s live life with enthusiasm one day at a time.