Today I am me, very sad and depressed and bad-place me. Friday I wasn’t even me, I was someone I’m pretty unfamiliar with, with a brain that felt like pop rocks. Tomorrow, I am not going into my holiday temp job that triggers all my suicidal feelings. For this I am grateful. I am grateful I am myself again, for however long it lasts.
A friend put in a word with some people they know, about a really awesome job, and I have an interview soon. I am so, so grateful for that. A sliver of hope in a landscape of dark suffering. Just knowing my resume passes snuff, with the right recommendation, for an awesome job is a huge comfort. Knowing that a friend still stands behind the fact I am awesome at jobs, despite this meltdown, is the biggest comfort ever.
A friend sent me $50, and refused to let me refuse it. Aw come on! And it wasn’t one of my rich friends, either, just a heartbreakingly sweet friend.
A friend sent me a copy of the book “The Artist in the Office” – good easy-to-read reminders of how to creatively survive and thrive 7 Days a Week. Aww!
I am grateful for my dad accepting my terror and telling me to call the group health psych hotline.
Many of my friends endured some verbal abuse and unfair judgement from me this week. I expected them to dump me, to walk away, or at least shake their heads and judge me. Instead they understood, said they loved me and that I can be honest with them. I understand verbal assaults are not a ticket I can punch regularly, but I’m starting to see that my dark thoughts can be expressed and it won’t cost me love. Unlike expressing your dark thoughts drunkenly, then you wake up with one less friend and you’re not sure why only that you suck. So I guess I’m a little grateful I’m not drinking, even if I really wish that I was so I could have a break, or at least see the pink elephant that there’s a break out there somewhere for me.
I am grateful for my super sweetie. He jumped in and paid for my new running shoes. He still hugged me after I screamed bloody murder and hurt my hand punching a wall. He didn’t run. He came right over and hugged me until I came down a notch. He’s right here and he loves me. Just typing these words made me want to cry. I thought I was a monster. But he doesn’t think so. He keeps telling me I’m a good person, even though I strongly disagree.
I am grateful, oh so grateful, for the health insurance that makes me crazy because it eats up all my money. But I’m getting bloodwork, therapy, doctors and meds, all for very low copays. I am grateful that mental health is more understood than ever before, and they’re not just locking me up in a padded cell.
I am grateful for all the emails of support I have received, people saying they don’t know what to do for me but they are here, and they’re on standby to help. It’s very nice to know I’m cared about by others, something I don’t usually think or feel when I’m in the dark places.
Dead Kennedys – Your Emotions