The Earth Starts to Curve

Deb McGrath, Colin Mochrie's wife, co-writes a blog with her friend Barb. (Barbs are special people.) Deb's contribution this week, to WAY oversimplify things, is about empathy for those suffering/dealing with mental illness. Let's touch the greatest nerve of all, shall we? I responded with the following:      

 Deb, I offer my sympathies on the loss of your friends. I haven't lost anyone to suicide, and actually can't imagine what you are feeling.      

When I read the first few lines of this, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. NOT because it bothered me that much, but because SOMEONE CARES. Holy S**t, someone else cares!!       

I've suffered from what appeared to be MAJOR depression since I was about 14. I've lost track of how many times I've attempted suicide over the years. The feelings of LOST and DESPAIR and EMPTY are so overwhelming that all I want is for it to STOP, and the only way I see to get it to STOP is to end it myself. There are NO other options. And this thought is just about the ONLY thought I had, the ONLY feeling I had. That I "had straight A's, so how could I be miserable?" didn't matter. "Just cheer up!" didn't help. (Cheer up? Really? Damn, I wish I'd thought of that!) My daughter would be better off without me, so she wasn't honestly a factor. People can judge all they want. That isolates a depressed person even more. I feel bad enough, I don't need you to throw more wood on the fire by telling me what ELSE I'm doing wrong.      

Deb, I need to tell you that Colin has literally been a life-saver for me. As I went through this personal hell in high school, my best friend told me that, if I killed myself, she would not mourn my death. MY BEST FRIEND. And here's Colin, giving a shit, about a complete stranger? Words will NEVER describe... Let's just say I can't emphasize enough how grateful I am to him for caring. And God bless him for his patience.      

I finally admitted to a suicide attempt 6 years ago. (After so many years of failure, it was time to look at other options.) I've been through a LOT of treatments since, all guess-work, mind you, because it's not an exact science. There's no way to monitor whether the drug, if it's the right one, is at the correct dosage... no blood test to check levels. (Except lithium. I don't know anything about that one, though.) When I see "my meds guy," who I really like and feel comfortable with, the best he can ask is "What's been going on" and "How are you feeling?" How much more subjective can you get?       

I had ECT treatments, and there's no feeling like going to sign your name and for the briefest second not remembering what it IS. I lost my job of 15 years due to the side effects. The "fun" part is that it turns out I'm Bi-Polar, not "just" depressed. The treatments are different. The meds are different. ECT is NOT recommended. Great. Just freakin' great.      

On the POSITIVE side, I might actually be close to the right balance of meds. The depths aren't nearly as low. The feelings of hopelessness don't last nearly as long. I do miss the highs, but the trade-off is I don't have the lows.      

Then there's therapy, for LIFE. (Being on the meds for life doesn't bother me. I have diabetes, so this just adds a few more things to the "pill-a-day" container.) I also trust my therapist, which is VITAL when you're digging deep to not only find answers, but FACE them. People think it's just talk, but I tell ya, it's harder work than I have ever experienced before.      

Damn, I didn't realize how many worms were in this can!       

I could go on forever about this. I probably could have skipped a lot of this, because Karen wrote a lot of my experiences already. What this boils down to is THANK you. THANK you for WANTING to know. For WANTING to understand.      

For CARING. Which is a bigger help than you may ever know. Dawn xo" The response was this:

          "

Deb said...

     Dawn, like so many of the comments today, I don't know what to say. When the comments started to come in, Colin asked me if I had heard from you, so yes, he is thinking of you and hoping things are good."      

There are times I wonder how much the meds can help, how much I still have to work through, and how much of these feelings are permanent, just ingrained in me. Intellectually, I know people remember me. I KNOW that there are people who DO care, and I can name some of them and be confident that I got the right people. Emotionally, however, my mind is SURE that "out of sight, out of mind" rules the day, and that there's NO way I matter. My mind is a flat-earther, SURE that there are no other options.      

Then I read this response and the flat-earther was like, "NO. FUCKING. WAY." But hey, flat-man, that there is honest-to-goodness PROOF. PROOF, damn you! You DO exist outside the fandom. YOU ARE A PERSON. HE DOES CARE.      

Flat earth is literally blown away, and is still rather speechless about the whole thing. 

"Hhhhow? Why? WHY??"      

  

It IS. You don't need "why."