Wednesday, December 2, 2015


I sat in my therapist's office the other day while she looked intently at me.  "When did you have thoughts about taking your own life?"

I paused, making sure my answer came out in a way that wouldn't put me on a 72-hour hold.  "I mean, I never had a plan.  There was never anything in place where I knew what I would do and notes had been written and peace had been made.  It was more realization on how easy it would be to not be here and that's ongoing.  Does that make sense?"

She nodded.  And then upped my meds, like any good American psychiatrist should.

I feel like I've been on the road less traveled for years now.  Lots of unchartered territory, lots of roadblocks.  I've experienced far more grief from death than I should have at the age of 30.  I continually wrestle with feelings of inadequacy after the drawn-out end of my last relationship.  I have friendships that are so fleeting it's almost like they never happened.  My bond with my parents is wearing thin, my work has slowed, and most days I would be okay with not getting out of bed.

It would be very easy to not be here.

But there are things I would miss.  Singing at top volume in my car.  The way the sun hits just right when I'm trying to take an artsy picture of something.  My cat.  The way my hair looks when it's cooperating.   Being plied into coming to my best friend's house with food and the promise that his four-year-old daughter will snuggle on the couch.

All the really hard, really scary, really sad things that happen blur the good more often than not and that hits hard and doesn't let up sometimes.  I spend a lot of time battling what would be easy versus what is definitely hard.

As 2015 comes to a THANKGODCANWEJUSTBEDONEALREADY close, I'm spending a lot of time evaluating both the understanding and the non-understanding people in my life.  I'm choosing to surround myself with the understanding ones: laughing long and hard, crying when I need to, and not being ashamed that at this point in my life Prozac helps me get out of bed.  I will spend my time nurturing and cultivating these relationships, making them stronger, knowing these are people who will check in when they haven't heard from me and will send a text just to say hello.  These are the ones who have seen my at my lowest and loved me even when I didn't deserve to be remotely liked.

I can't make everyone see pain, especially when their own lives are rose colored.  I can only hold onto the people I have in my corner and make sure they know they bring the things that wouldn't be easy to leave behind.