I am going to get through this. I am going to get through this. I am going to get through this.
That is my mantra right now.
I wasn't planning on writing a post today, but the depression has taken me down so hard starting from the minute I woke up today, I know I need to do something besides sit on the couch and cry. So I called one of my friends in the program, and then I called my Sponsor. Then I called my mom, and told her I needed help.
The only thing that's been bringing me relief over the past few days is thinking, Okay, I feel horrible right now, but later on I'll kill myself. I'll do it after work. Or, if I can't sleep, I'll tell myself that I'll do it in the morning. Those plans bring me relief, because even though I don't fully think I'll go through with it, it eases me enough to fall asleep or keep working. It gives my mind an end point to focus on, some sort of promised relief from the pain.
But that is only going to get me so far. I know enough about myself to understand that if I don't start to feel better, I might take drastic measures that could result in the end of my life.
I haven't written much about this yet or talked to many people about it because I'm embarrassed. I'm afraid that people will find out how f*cked up I am and won't want to talk to me anymore.
But writing is something that has comforted me from the time I could first form words. Writing is my most powerful and direct way of releasing emotions and healing. I also feel called to share it, which is why I have this blog. If there's anyone out there who feels the same, I want them to know they're not alone. Sometimes that thought alone is what's kept me going - the knowledge that there are other people out there going through something similar.
As a matter of fact, I feel better already. A little more hopeful. A little more helpful. A little more determined to move past this and create a life worth living… and create a person who can seize every day and face it with courage and grace.
I wonder a lot why I haven't already killed myself. I've been contemplating it since I was about seven, which was when I can first remember having attacks of anxiety and depression.
You know I just had a thought. I wonder if I've been so miserable because a part of me stopped believing in the power of the 12 Steps. I was so excited and ready to work the Steps in the beginning when I first moved to Kaua'i, and when everything fell apart with my aunt, the other people at Hale Pule, and my boyfriend, I stopped actively working the Steps each day. I stopped journaling and praying as much. The fire went out for the most part, because I thought that if my whole life, which seemed to be going exactly as I had hoped it would, could just fall apart like that, then the Steps don't really work.
I have spent a long time blaming myself for everything that happened in the last six months. And, of course, I did play a large part in the way things went. But so did everyone else involved.
Either way, I have to start believing in the power of the 12 Steps again, and most importantly in the power of my God. All of this is happening for reasons that I can't fully comprehend right now, because I'm not God. I can only see one small piece of the puzzle. I can only handle one day at a time.
But what I can do is KNOW that I have the strength, courage and purity to come out on the other side of this with the help of the Steps, and the meetings, and my Sponsor. I can stay sober and continue to recover.
My Sponsor said to think of it like this: Think of all the people who, if you spotted them on the street, you would try to avoid. Then write down those people, and why you would feel uncomfortable around them.
Keeping that in mind, I have two people on my list. I know there are more to go. But I believe if I just keep going, one foot in front of the other, I can be at peace.
One day I will wake up and instead of anxiety waiting on the edge of my sleep like demons, I will find God's comfort in my heart, and a prayer on my lips.
Till then, I can only hope, and work.