KITTERZTOO.COM: Not What I Wished For

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Not What I Wished For

You know that saying, "Be careful what you wish for"? I have the same question swirling around my head. Why the hell did I ever wish for that? Can I take my wish back?

Four months ago, my therapist left for spinal surgery. Four months later, I get a call from the scheduler canceling my appointments for this month. She said she would most likely not be back by the time the office thought she should return. I was prepared for the call to cancel all of my appointments. I just had hoped the call would never come. I really could use someone now.

I recall back in 2009 when my major depressive disorder was at its worst. It was all I could do to hold firm to my vow to stop self-injuring. During a particularly nasty fight with my husband where I was told I was a "waste of space", I spat back,

"I hope you get what I have so you'll finally understand what I'm going through."

Every time I have uttered those words, devastation lay in its wake. Realistically, I know I have no control over others by saying that phrase, but I can't help but cringe knowing that indeed those words would come to bear at the most inopportune time.

My husband was recently diagnosed with depression. His medication isn't working. He has relinquished his control over me. I now am responsible for all of the bills, the girls, and just about every other function in the house as he is crippled by anxiety and depression. He found solace in an old girlfriend, despite the one person that truly understands what he's going through is right here next to him. I went from being treated as a child and as a roommate, to being the leader, the one responsible.

Not having a therapist has been a struggle. An increase of my medication created side-effects that landed me in the hospital. I'm still not totally leveled out as my kidneys are now being affected. I have little to no support structure whatsoever. I rely on one "virtual" friend to hear my sorrow just to get through the day. Fact is, I'm struggling. I think about self-injury no less than five times a day. The medication increase takes weeks for full effect. In my case, ten weeks. I'm only halfway. I wind up bottling emotions until everyone has gone to bed so I can unload them in my journal and just cry.

I find myself hiding my struggle even on Twitter. I fear people are sick of the crap and struggles I have physically, that I feel I don't dare come apart emotionally. Two people in particular @spudrph and @wbahner have provided a smile when I was at my worst. They are the closest to cheerleaders as they come. (Of course, both of them being men, that does make for a funny mental image as actual cheerleaders, but shh don't tell them that.)

@wbahner has been playing Words With Friends with me even when I've tried to quit playing. Words With Friends is like an online version of Scrabble. I've never played Scrabble as a child, so I had to let at least twenty other people kick my ass before he discovered I played. Our matches are so close in score, that I continue to play even when I disappear from Twitter for a while. Once in a while he sends me e-mails that are literally two words in length. "Happy Friday!" He has no idea how much just saying "Hey you!" means to me when all I want to do is get hit by a bus.

@spudrph is a friend that I wish lived closer so we could get coffee and exchange bad puns. He's a talented writer, but he'll deny it. It's the total breakdown, blubbery mess, in tears, me that he allows to snivel on his shoulder. No matter how scary the depression sounds, he quietly allows me to fall apart. What I didn't expect is a friend who can, in a sentence, make me laugh out loud in the midst of a crying streak. Being creative himself, he brings out the best in my creative spirit. I've gotten accustomed to getting a text out of the blue that makes me laugh so hard no matter where I am. I think the stares from my children while in public are testament to his funny, kind, and endearing spirit.

I know I don't really have a choice but to take on this new role as leader. My children need a parent at the reins. I'm so nervous about missing a bill, trying to figure how to pay said bill, or forgetting to organize my daughter's 9th birthday party in 7 days. In fairness, my husband did it when my daughters were just infants and I was bed-ridden. I just wish it wasn't so emotionally difficult for me. I'm proud of the fact I haven't self-injured during this whole stressful time. I know I can't do anything about my husband's depression except to offer a lifeline when things get really tough. I can't make him grab it. Honestly, I wouldn't wish clinical depression on anyone. It's not something you can throw a pill at and have it magically go away.

I hope my friends can understand a little more of where my mind has been these past four months when they begged for another blog post. I've been struggling to function amidst a sea of "suck". I thank those of you who still offer a virtual hug for me. It has meant the world to me. I guess that is the something I've wished for. Thank you!