another one of those

[cloudy skies]

There are a few seconds when I first wake up in the morning that I forget who I am, how and when I got here.....I forget that I cried non stop the previous night, for no apparent reason .... and for those few seconds, I feel what I am normal. And then, once I realize where I am and who I am, the heaviness in my heart begins. Not gradually, but like a huge wave taking me under. And I lay in bed and I wonder who I should pray to today? Who will listen to me and to my heart and give me peace and quiet and let me have a day....just ONE day, where I don't feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. Not having control over your emotions is the worst feeling.....EVER. No knowing why or when its going to stop, but instead waiting and hoping that one day I can say to myself, "today, I didn't cry"..."today, I made it as me". I long, I wait, I seek for that day, when I can feel human and not broken.

I have pushed all my friends away because when the word "depressed" comes up, they all seem to have PHDs and they all have a solution to my issues. Others, hear that word and they think that I am just having a bad, not so good day. "A few drinks will make you feel better"...."you need to just go out and meet people" they say. And I say..."gosh, I didn't think of that, thanks for that,. That will solve all my problems". And all they can do now is just smile and walk away slowly because they don't know what to say anymore. So I just stopped talking about it. I stopped talking to them because I don't have anything to talk about other than my broken brain. I stopped reaching out to them for comfort and support. I stopped being the Debbie Downer of the group and I just became my own island. The worst about being on my own island, is that sometimes, I want to be remembered and reminded that I am not just a sad thing, floating around into nothing ness. That I was once a happy, lively, beautiful, person who loved life and loved to live. But now, it hurts to breath. I just exist.

Its too late now. People have their own lives, they have their happy lives that they want to live and share with other happy people that want to be happy with them. I am not one of them. Not because of my selfishness, but because for many many years now, I don't know what its like to be happy and seeing others happy makes me jelous. It makes me scream at the top of my lungs "WHY CANT I HAVE THAT? WHY CANT I FEEL HAPPY???? WHAT DID I DO AND WHAT CAN I DO TO UNDO IT???????

I don't remember the last time I was hugged. Or kissed. I miss being kissed. That was my favorite thing to do. I miss that. Now I am just invisible.

Tonight, I am going to go bed, with a heavy heart. I'm going to cry because I am tired and I want to feel something, anything else other than this.....And because tomorrow I am going to wake up knowing that for just a few seconds, I am going be normal....until I fully wake up and my days starts all over again.

[100footpole]

Your statement

.... and for those few seconds, I feel what I am normal. And then, once I realize where I am and who I am, the heaviness in my heart begins. Not gradually, but like a huge wave taking me under.

Is so familiar. When I'm feeling normal I recognize the whirlpool of negative thoughts off in the distance. I think we all have to find our own way to get away from it.

The first time I felt like you did I was 16. Your description:

. I stopped reaching out to them for comfort and support. I stopped being the Debbie Downer of the group and I just became my own island. The worst about being on my own island, is that sometimes, I want to be remembered and reminded that I am not just a sad thing, floating around into nothing ness. That I was once a happy, lively, beautiful, person who loved life and loved to live.

Defined my feelings exactly ... Simon and Garfunkle "I am a Rock", The Who "Behind Blue Eyes". I got some professional help, and started volunteering at the VA moving patients to PT and helping the patients and therapists do the exercises. I felt really normal there ... Stopped going to therapy because my therapist was always calling and checking on me ... so I told him I was better. He didn't believe me ... but he couldn't call if I wasn't seeing him.

Volunteer somewhere. Let me know what you did and how it felt.