Fuck Depression

The boyfriend texted me the other night, around the 30^th.  Said he was in a bad place and wanted to talk.

He cheated on me, and yeah, he did that.  He refused to decide what to do, to leave me, to stay and get help or take a break and get help.  There was a fight.  He refused to decide.  I decided I stopped caring.  Then he texted, he was in a bad place and wanted to talk.

He decided he wanted a break.  Time to get shit straight, before decided a big thing like, breaking up.

We drafted the terms.  Right there on my phone.

Three months

Meet up again March 30^th

No girls for him

He gets help

And he needed to call the whore and tell her no contact until the 30^th

I called his mom right then and there with his blessing and she is going to drag his ass to therapy if needed.  His mom and dad agree he needs help.  The last people in his life agree he needs help.  The boyfriend knows he needs help, but admitted he may need to be dragged.  I passed that on to his mom.

His whore doesn’t think he needs help…

I am trying not to hope.

I don’t want to be hurt, or hurting.

I dared to hope.

Something drew me to his facebook page, his mom has been posting cool stuff about insomnia.  I have been blocked.  Why would I be blocked?  All I can think is that he’s not keeping his end of the deal up, and he’s talking to his whore.

My stomach has gone into knots and I’m trying very hard not to cry.

I don’t know how not to be optimistic.  I don’t know how to plan on the worst.  I don’t know what to do.

I’m making myself crazy and it’s late and my friends are asleep.  Tomorrow I have to be places.  I need to sleep and be rested.

I just don’t understand.  He freaks out.  He says he loves me and always will.  He says he can’t stand the idea of losing me as a friend and that he is confused.

It doesn’t help that I heard through the grapevine that he will be reffing a tournament tomorrow that his fucking hussy will also be reffing.

I miss that he’s not here.

He’s my best friend, why would he do this?

I am really tired of feeling like this.  But I have no proof, this is all on me.  I’m making myself crazy.  He’s not trustworthy, but I have to trust him.  How completely fucked up is that?  I am feeling like an idiot again.

I’ll learn to handle this.  And I know this sounds whiney and childish, but this is so unfair.  Really, I just want to love him, and be friends again.  I didn’t do anything to deserve this treatment.  I have done everything right.  I have done everything I could.

It’s two weeks into three months.  This will get easier.

Fuck Depression.

Not Quite Ready

I start back to work and school tomorrow.  I’m not ready.  

I miss my beloved idiot boyfriend. 

I’m really bummed that at work they changed the format at the last minute taking me from teacher to student transporter.  Had I known this before, I would have had a third week off.

I don’t have much to look forward to.  I’m tired of things always going south.

Fuck You

I never did anything to deserve this pain.  I never did anything to incur this wrath.  Really, I just wanted to love you.  Somehow that was too much.

I want to ask what did I ever do to you.  I want to feel more than numb.

What the fuck does she have?  What allure does she present?  Is it the danger of it all?

I am sick to shit of the lies, your lies.

I only loved you, but that wasn’t enough.

I wish I felt more, more anger, more hurt more than this knot in my stomach.  But I can’t.  You win, you wore me out.  I’ve caught your stupid fucking disease.

Why can’t you just break it off with me?  Grow a fucking pair and do something.  Leaving me to hurt, leaving me to wonder… How can you live with yourself?

So, now what?  You really win this time.  I’m out of tears for you.  I cry for me, for being such a fucking idiot.  How could I be so blind to your absolute assholery?

And now the question, if I send this to you, will you just never talk to me again and hide further in the cave that is your fucked up life?  The life you created for yourself.  There is really no one left to blame.  You did this to you and to me.  Granted, I let you hurt me.  I take some responsibility.  But if you weren’t fucking her, I wouldn’t have this knot in my stomach, and I’d be able to function.

I really can’t believe the depths to which you’ve taken this.  I trusted you.  I gave you everything.  And this is what I get.  This hurts.  I’d rather be dead than here.  You won’t even be a man and own what you’ve done to me.

I’m so sorry you hurt and that your brain hates you.  You know I’d give anything to make you better.  But you won’t give a thing to get better.  Not your time, not your energy.  You don’t give a flying fuck.  You just want to fuck who you please and to hell with whomever you hurt.

Bravo lover!  You finally win.  You have killed that light inside.  I’m as dark and dull as you.  Now what?  What is your grand scheme since you’ve finally broken my spirit, darkened my hope and killed my sense of joy?  Now will you leave, unceremoniously?  Will you just never call and fade off in to the oblivion you’ve created?

And thanks for waiting until Christmas time, while I’m still reeling from the death of my Nana.  I just got the most amazing Guinness dimpled pint jug that was hers.  It is the most wonderful thing.  I know you’re incapable of love, so I don’t expect you to understand.

My eye is twitching again.  Thanks, I needed that too.  That and my scalp is itchy.  Oh, and let’s not forget the fact I can’t seem to keep food in my stomach long enough to digest it.

Thanks lover, you really hit me with this when I could really handle it.  Did you think, oh look, she’s taken such a beating from work, school and her other relationships, let me tell her now about how I can’t control where I stick my penis.  I really appreciate you waiting until I wasn’t so overwhelmed with death, stress and failure.

You are so god damn selfish.

To think, really, all I wanted was to love you.  To be there for you.  You are right, I want a husband and a happy life.  It’s not the crime you make it out to be.  Remember, you wanted a wife and a happy little home not long ago.  You changed, not me.  Whoever you used to be just fucking vanished and left me here holding what was our dream.  The depressed asshole that replaced you is cruel and awful.  I want the old you back, but somehow you seem to think this new fuck face is better.  Why do you want to be an asshole?

You were supposed to be planning our engagement right now, this Christmas.  At one point you even said you thought the same thing.  One discussion, you cried and you said you thought this Christmas we’d be engaged too.  This Christmas, days away.  And now what?  I can’t imagine your disappearing act is all about finding the perfect ring.

And why vanish?  Why can’t you be a man and say, sorry not tonight I have plans.  The only conclusion I can draw is you are fucking her.  I recall you saying you wouldn’t stick your fucked up corrupt cock in her until you figured your shit out.  Is that still a valid thing?  I also recall you saying something like, I love you, and oh yeah, that commitment thing you agreed to, and what about I will be always be there for you no matter what.  Oh and wait, what about the part you said it was over with her?  The part I believed, the part that you lied about over and over and over.

I feel like an idiot.  I kinda hate you.   You have no balls.  You are a cowardice chicken shit.  And truthfully, I take back what I said about you being a good man.

A New Purgatory

It’s been a rough weekend.  The boyfriend is in another state, which for the most part, hasn’t changed my life that dramatically…or really at all.  But not having him a 20 minute drive away has stressed me out in odd ways.  At least, that seems to be what has happened.  I’m so thrilled to be picking him up from the airport shortly.  I want him to have missed me.  But I’m also terrified he hasn’t even noticed I wasn’t there.

Things have changed lately.  He’s no longer depressed boy in his room.  He’s getting out more.  He wants things to change.  He started studying for some computer certification test.  He’s still nowhere near 100%, he hasn’t even tried to find a job, can’t seem to finish anything he’s started, and he’s still…off.

The biggest thing that has changed is his relations towards me.  He’s on a new tangent about our relationship.  He says he doesn’t want to lose me as his best friend, but isn’t sure he wants to keep dating.  This is so much harder than him just disliking me.  I can’t tell if this is depression or the boyfriend.  I suggested an extended break, like a month or two of no contact.  Give him a chance to figure out what he wants.  He adamantly declines.  I think it’s because then he’ll have to face his issues and stop blaming me and our relationship for sinking his life.  I am confident that deep down somewhere he knows this too.

Even worse, he doesn’t really treat me like a friend either.  He recently lied about a few little things he thought I’d be upset about.  He thought I’d make a big deal out of it and start a fight.  I listened to all of what he said, then countered with, when has that ever happened?  I’m not perfect, and yes, there are a few small things that will set me straight off into a Tasmanian Devil like tantrum, these were not those topics.

I’m trapped in a relationship purgatory.  I think a break would work wonders for the boyfriend.  Let him sort out his messy head without me as a distraction.  But I really think he needs to agree, or it’s just another “thing” that I made him do, and not the opportunity for growth it could be.

With more frequency, he’s been saying  that he wants things better, that he wants to be better.  But he won’t take steps in that direction.  I suggested he talk to someone close, specifically regarding the issues he’s having about us.  He refuses, says they are his troubles to deal with.  At that point I kindly reminded him that my attempt to solve it all on my own led me to a cliff hoping to be pushed off by a kind passerby.

I think this may be his depression tar monster.  It makes sense to me that if he is feeling no love for himself, that he also sees the absolute impossibility of truly loving someone else.  As an act of kindness, he thinks it’d be best to set me free.  But he can’t stand the idea of losing his best friend, hence he’s torn.

I lightheartedly asked him the other night, you like me, you enjoy the time we spend together, we’re best friends and you find me attractive…why is it you want to break up?  I’m happy to say he just kinda chuckled at me.

It is dreadful to love someone so fully and watch them suffer.

Good Night

I’m so tired

I am so optimistic by nature that when is all falls down I fall down.  When cruelty, greed and evil keep winning, I don’t want to keep fighting.

I used to have one special someone in my corner all the time.  Now he’s not sure he wants to be there.  I have my friends and I love them, but I miss my best friend.  The one that was there no matter what, that loved me no matter what and was there all the time.

I feel so alone.  I can hear my friends screaming at me again that I’m not alone.  But I feel like I am.

I feel like I’m the last one that wants to try to make everything better, the world, the environment, the social cluster fuck we now call living.

My grandparents were friends with their neighbors.  They played cards all the time while drinking too much then walked home.  They were friends until they died.  I will never have that.

I’m tired of getting up and dusting off.  Starting over and knowing next time it will be better.  This time I want to just stay on the floor.  There is no place to fall to, and it’s kinda comfy having the floor support all my weight.

I remember when there was no ozone holes.  I remember when SPF 4 was enough.  I remember playing out on the street until 8pm with my buddies in summer.

I’m on my way to a master’s degree that will not move me forward, but plant me firmly where I am.  And where I am is nowhere.

I’m very tired of this fight.  I’m tired of fighting alone.  I want all the horrible to stop and I want good to start again.

But I don’t think it’s ever coming back.  The years keep get crappier.  Things out of my control continue to shoot at me and with ever increasing speed.

I am tired, and I want it to stop.

The Talk

It was time for a talk.

Rather, the boyfriend needed to talk and I needed to listen.  I went to his house, unannounced, after he did not respond to a direct text question…again.  I followed a new communication method from a highly recommended book.  I busted into his room, and said something like, “I’ve been an ass, I haven’t been listening, and I’m very sorry for that.  I know you don’t want to talk anymore about this, but I’d really like to understand you.  Why do you not want to go to treatment or try other meds?”

Well…it disarmed him.  Which shocked me.  And then I listened, a lot.  And I’m still listening.  He said stuff and, I learned to listen to stuff.  I didn’t judge and I asked clarifying questions and I did that whole repeat what they just said thing.  Nothing was resolved, but that’s so ok.  What happened was better.  I became his friend, his ally.

I read somewhere online that depressed people need their friends to be more like family and their family more like friends.  It stuck.  The boyfriend doesn’t need me harping on him to seek treatment, or begging him to just talk about it.  He needs a buddy, someone who just likes his company, without motive.  He needs a beer drinking, soccer watching, steak gnawing pal.  That used to be me…what the hell happened?

In light of my new revelation, things have been a little better.  All be it, just one week of better, but hey!  We gotta start somewhere!

Before the soccer game he invited me over (he actually invited me over!) to watch the soccer game. I noticed he’d been online chatting with this idiot hussy I can’t stand.  For a really good reason, I can’t stand this chick.  I really wanted to throw shit and be crazy, instead I went for a walk.  I did debate throwing stuff, punching walls and keying cars while I walked.

I calmed down, then went to talk to the boyfriend.  I asked calmly, “It’s really totally completely over?” (We took a break a few months back).  He said, “Yes.”  Like he has a million times and will have to a million more.  I then asked how frequently they chatted, he responded one-two times a week.   Honestly, that hurt.  I started crying.

BUT! I stayed calm, I wanted to listen and I think the boyfriend knew I wasn’t looking for a fight, I was looking for clarity.  I asked why he talked to her and not me.  Despite the recent upswing in mood, I still seem to be a bit of a bad guy.  He said, after a long moment of contemplation, she’s easier to talk to, you can be hard to talk to.  This is when my inner dialogue went nuts, “ME!!! HARD TO TALK TO!?!?!?!” screamed in my head.

I took a deep breathe, I didn’t say that he’s the ass-face making it hard for both of us, that he needs to get over this shit because the only reason I’m hard to talk to is because you refuse to try, and so on.  No, I quelled the beast, calmed the months of anger, and said, with a smile…”try me, new leaf, I want to listen, just please, try me.”  Then I could sense the conversation being over, I wiped tears rapidly away and said something about beer warming and soccer starting soon.

The US won, we had delicious steak, we talked about cars and bicycles and all things soccer.  He even let me cuddle with him on the couch.

Today, I was stuck home sick…again, and we had a micro conversation about tennis and fencing.  We haven’t text chatted in ages.  I’m thrilled.  Is he coming back?

Now I have to start asking, what now?  He needs help, this isn’t just going away.  So now what?  I’m going to ask at my next group meeting for loved ones of depression/bipolar/schizophrenia.  They are wise.  Maybe I can get some help from them.  Before some have said a tough love approach is best, get help or I leave ultimatum stuff.  But as soon as I backed off that approach, and listened, things got way better.  And that’s what I’d want, someone to listen to me.  Don’t we all just want to be heard?

Rallying Cry

I’m reading a book called I’m not SIck I Don’t Need Help by Xavier Amador.  It was a gift from a kind person in my support group.  I’m not far into the book.  I can’t say much about it, but it was so highly recommended that the group leader purchases the books from his own money and hands out copies at every meeting.  I was blown away by his conviction and generosity.  I’ve been trying to read it as much as possible, but school and work keep getting in the way happy free time.

It’s been good so far, in that, I feel less alone in my quandary.  Why would someone, who has been told by professionals they are sick, avoid treatment?  I will finish reading it before I proceed with my latest idea to reach the boyfriend about the seriousness of this issue, but I wanted to post my idea.

The boyfriend is an extreme introvert, and I have found that letters pose a particular impact on him.  I use them sparingly, and I have written several that he has never seen.  He has received a total of two.  What I am proposing would be number three.

The first letter laid out the ground rules of a much needed “break” between us.  It was to be a two month long endeavor, but he called it off after one month.

The second letter laid out how I was feeling about certain things.  He kept asking what was bothering me, and in my attempts to avoid an argument, I avoided the questions.  Finally I wrote down what was bothering me and gave him the note.  I meant no harm by it, just answering his questions and showing why I was occasionally aloof.  That one hit him hard, which was not my intention.  In a strange way I think it was good, because it cleared the air, and it showed me he still cared.  At least cared enough to be upset and feel guilty.

I’ve written a third.  I first thought it’d be a get-help-or-else letter, but it turned into a rallying cry.  I decided to post it to maybe get an outside opinion.  I won’t be delivering it until I finish the book.  The book is filled with brilliant little helpful gems, and I’d rather have a bright polished letter than one that might cause the opposite of what I hope for.

Here it is:

I love you so much.  I don’t know why, but I do.  And lately you’ve made that question even harder to answer.  I still love you despite your constant assault on our relationship, despite you blaming me for things out of my control, and for hating me for just wanting to be with you.  I still love you despite all that’s happened between us.  And I will love you tomorrow and I think it’s quite likely I will love you forever.

I’ve come to find out though, that love, for all its sonnets and beauty, won’t fix depression.  I can stand by and offer support, I can endure a near constant stream of criticisms, and it turns out I can endure you telling me we should no longer be together for a series of reasons, and I can endure you telling me I’m not your best friend.  I have survived things related to us, real and imagined from our “friends.”  It turns out I can handle a lot.  That my love, and my will are strong and resolute.

I cannot, however, endure this battle against your depression without you.  I have researched and read and discussed my situation from many sides.  I have been to counselors, support groups and online forums.  I have whispered my feelings to the world from a blog I started.  I have enlisted a small battalion to help me cope.  I have learned how to reach out and ask for help.  It wasn’t easy.  Things like pride got in my way.  But I did it because otherwise…well, your tar monster would suck me in.

I can’t fight this depression any harder than you, and expect any results.  You are the captain in this battle.  I am a willing and able XO.  I will learn to wield any weapon, I will fight on any battleground that you lead me to and I promise that I will not give up even if you think you might want to.  I am prepared to fight.  My armor is polished and I await orders.  That’s where I’m stuck.  I have read the battle plans, I know many great tactics.  I know side paths to the enemy’s camps you didn’t know existed!  I am loyal and ready to fight.

Please consider my offer.  My battalion has squads that can serve you as well.  Any resource I have, I will gladly share to help you.  I have stumbled upon many resources that are just for you, that I am dying to share.

I know you think I’m pushy, and you are tired of this rant.  You know me though, have I ever pushed hard for something that wasn’t worth it in the end?  I really have no idea the specifics of what you are going though.  I do know that it’s hard, near impossible.  I also know that it will end.  I know that it will end faster with help.  I really know how hard it is to ask for help.  But I am glad I did.  Asking for help does not admit weakness, it shows strength.  It shows a strength in yourself, and a pride about who you are and want to become.  It shows the world that you think you’re worth it.  And I know that’s all hard to do, and hard to admit.  That’s why I’m here, to remind you that you are worth it.  That you can feel better and that you deserve all of that.

I love you, you are worth it.

Please tell me what you think, don’t hesitate to be brutal.  It’s so scary.  I don’t know what will set him off.  Someday he seems to love the optimism and other days I think he wants to stuff me in a locker like they did to me in high school.

In Love with Depression

I found a group, they meet Mondays.  It’s a group for depressed or bipolar folks and their loved ones.  It was very helpful.  I was asked a question to provoke thought and have been thinking about it on and off since Monday.  I want to be honest, and make sure I’m answering for me.  He asked, “Why are you with him?”  Him being the boyfriend, and the why is because he’s depressed.

The obvious answer is because I love him.  I could go on about birds singing and stars twinkling, but as much as I feel that’s true and lovely, it doesn’t answer the question.  It creates more.  Why do I love him? And, why am I with him?

I’m still with him because I want to support him, I want to help him.  I want to see him beat depression.  I think he can, or I wouldn’t be trying (at least I hope not).  I’m with him because I’d want someone to be there for me.  I’m there because I love him.

I love him because…I do.  Isn’t it strange how hard it is to answer this one?  It’s so personal, and just ours, I don’t want to share.  He’s the most amazing person I ever met.  He’s the smartest person I know.  He has a red beard.

The more I thought about why I love him, why I’m sticking around, the more I thought about selfish stuff.  Love is NOT altruistic.  We give love and expect it to return to us.  Depression steals that away.  I give my love away to the boyfriend, and in great abundance right now, and I get nothing back.  Or, I get back anger and hurt.  He blows up my positive self-image, and I leave hurt and dejected.

It’s a good question, why am I sticking around?  What used to be a 50/50 has turned into a 90/10.  I’m not getting what I need from this endeavor, so why be involved?  My first thought is always, because that’s what I’d hope a friend would do for me, especially my best friend.  I’d want a champion fighting for me, even if I wasn’t up to fighting or, like in the boyfriend’s case, in denial about what I’m up against.  Isn’t that what loyalty is?  Isn’t this what the books tell about, and the legends are based on?  An enduring loyalty, and against all odds, that sort of kinship that wins the battle?

I know I’m not a hero in a modern myth, but why can’t I be right?  What’s so wrong about hoping that by sticking around and doing what little I can, that maybe they’ll be a happy ending?

But why do all that?  Why endure shitty, SHITTY, things being said to me?  Why suffer through two steps forward, one back?  And, the worst of them all, why be forced to listen to my beloved tell me he thinks we should break up, every time he doesn’t like the way things are going?  That must be the love again keeping me around.

I love him because he gets me, without question he accepts my odd quirks, and there are many.  He calms me.  My favorite times are being alone with him, because then I can concentrate, and I can be still.  He understands, and even more importantly, he knows that he may never understand, but stands by me anyway.  I trust him.  He is loyal, and he is loyal to me.

Well, he was, and then the depression tar monster got him.  He went from all that to an angry, aggressive bump.  I think those things (and so many more!) are worth fighting for.  So, for now, I’m fighting.  And there are days, like today when I can recall so clearly all these beautiful things about him.  I miss him so much.  He isn’t going to call, or text or email, and days like today, these things hurt more than all the nasty words he could sling at me.

Help from the mail?

My first “coping with depression” book came.  I’ve been reading diligently.  I’m trying to absorb every bit of help and knowledge I can.  Then a strange thing happened.  I’m finding myself fighting myself.  I’m reading this book because the boyfriend is depressed.  I’m looking at how to alter things for him, to try to help him in whatever little ways I can.  And he just sits there depressed.  He won’t get help.  He berates me and is unkind.  But me, I’m reading, I’m empathetic, sympathetic and trying to do what little I can.

Then the other side kicks in.  He’s sick.  He can’t help it.  His ass-hole-ness is a function of disease, not malice.  I really want to believe that.  I want to help him.  I just feel so lost.

My new book was recommended to me whose husband is depressed.  She recommended three books.  I ordered two.  One is still on the way.  I’m about a third through it.  I thought it’d be uplifting.  Now I’m just mad at me.

When I read the list of “unofficial depression symptoms” I began to worry.  Yes, that’s the boyfriend.  Or it could be a list of things to look for in an abusive relationship.  Where does the line get drawn?  How can I talk to someone that has no ability to communicate logically?  Am I dumb for sticking around?  How long should I deal with this?  Has it been too long?  Is this impacting my life too negatively?…

Well, I know I’m doing ok.  I’m better than I was when this started.  As it seems to typically go (I learned that from this book), the boyfriend had all kinds of ideas about where I was wrong and harming the relationship.  With surgical precision he sliced me down, and then tried to break up with me.  I told him no, we weren’t breaking up and he needed to get a handle on whatever crisis he was going though.  He did, however, make some good points.  I was too attached to him.  I needed to get out more and take better care of myself.  His words were less kind, but I always try to find a silver lining.

So I did all of that.  And, I think to the chagrin of the depressed boyfriend, I did it for me.  I made new friends, and reconnected with old.  I started doing WAY more stuff.  Too much so actually, I’ve since had to cut back.  I have pursued new interests and excelled at them.  I lost weight, and can now literally kick someone’s ass.  I am proud of myself.  I am a better person than I was.  I’ve also learned how to lean on people when I need to.

I’ve done all this, and become an expert in depression.  The boyfriend has done nothing.  Wait!  Not totally true.  He’s leveled his pandaren character to 90.  He has also dropped out of school, and life.  GO BOYFRIEND!!!  He’s also watched almost all the Dr. Who episodes starting with the ninth doctor.  Can’t forget that achievement.

The book I’m reading is called Depression Fallout by Anne Sheffield.  It’s about “the impact of depression on couples and what you can do to preserve the bond.”  I stole that right off the cover.  The chapters I’ve read covered depression and its fallout.  Fallout being the lovely roller coaster I’m on.  Also a chapter on denial and one was overview of what depression is and what it feels like.  The depression chapter was tough.  I don’t want my loved ones to feel that way, ever.  It was also insightful.  The chapter gave merit to my thoughts about depression and what it does.  As I’m not done, I don’t know that I’d personally recommend this book, but there the info if someone needs it.  God knows I scoured the internet and found very little to help me.

What do you think?  Are you stuck like me?  Have you read a good book or seen a good website?  Let me know.  It’d be nice to know I’m not all alone in this.

Tired of -2

I feel like I’m wandering around and about -2 and normal boring day, uneventful, just day is at about zero.  It’s not like I’m sad per se, more like not right.  I’m not depressed.  I get out of bed.  I do the things I’m supposed to do for myself.  I work out.  I call my friends.  I do “things” for myself.  Whoever came up with that nonsense had NO IDEA what it’s like.

My boyfriend of years is depressed.  He is drowning because it’s dragging him down.  It started in February.  I don’t know what to do.  I can’t help him.  And he’s working very hard at kicking everyone out of his life, including me.

Every day I hurt because he doesn’t like me around.  I might sound pathetic, but that’s not it.  One week, last week for example, he was there.  We went out of town.  We laughed, we had so much fun.  He was smiling.  I hadn’t seen his smile in so long.  Then over the week we went out.  We hung out.  Then Friday he blew up, said he figured it’d be easier if we broke up and got mad when I got tear-y eyed at the idea.  He then called me impossible or crazy or something .  He said he wished I would stop caring for him and he’s doing and he left.  I haven’t talked to him since then.  It’s been 8 days.  No texts, no email, no calls, no nothing.  The man I love and adore, like he doesn’t exist.

And so here I am, suffering alone.  I have my friends.  This whole ridiculous ordeal has shown me clearly who they are.  And they are GREAT!  But they have no idea.  They encourage me to go out.  To do things I like to do.  They go out with me.  It’s all very nice.  I do appreciate them.  But they really have no idea.  When I talk to them I get these sad eyes and soothing tones and the, “I know that’s hard.”  But what do I do?  No one seems to know.  So I trek on alone.  And I’m tired of it.  If 10% of American’s are depressed then 10% of loved ones suffer this fallout.  Why is the only advice for us go do something?  Is depression so stigmatized that loved ones must suffer this debilitating loneliness alone?

It’d be easier if the boyfriend was dead, then he’d stop hurting me.  It’d be easier if it was cancer, because then I could wear a ribbon and walk for three days for him.  But it’s not.  It’s this giant scary tar monster that eats away joy and light.  It sucks up everything good and tries to get me too.  I don’t get ribbons, and for all my love and support, I get 4 days of the boyfriend back followed by a mean outburst and heartache.

I was told it’s grieving that I’m going though.  I’m grieving the loss of the boyfriend and our old relationship.  It’s kinda like that but worse.  Because you see, if the boyfriend died, that’s it.  It’d be over and I’d move on.  I’d find more sympathy in a counselor and I could talk to one of the support groups on every corner.  I’d have a cause, a ribbon.  Every year I could visit his grave and say things like, I wish you were alive, we could be snorkeling in Guam right now.  But instead, I get a shell of my lover.  I get his anger and hate.  I get his fear and self-loathing.  And it’s contagious.

Every day I survive my best friend alternating between I need you and GO AWAY!  I never know which I might get.  And I do it all alone.  I call my friends, who are sometimes clearly sick hearing me.  They don’t understand why I stay.  It’s because he’s not him.  It’s that monster, the one that ate him.  That’s who is talking.  I stay because I see him inside.  I see him hurting.  I stay because when he manages to escape the depression, he’s amazing again.  He is sick, and one of the symptoms is ass-hole-ry.

Some days I don’t know why I stay either.  I could be happy elsewhere. I could be snorkeling.  I might be back to 0, or where I prefer to be, about +2.  I’d have energy, I’d be less upset.  Maybe even like my activities more.  But I stay.  I may be an idiot for it, in fact, a lot of days I’m sure I am.  He’s in there.  He is not depression, this is not him.  This can be temporary if he gets help.

And now here I am.  I am looking for another person suffering like me.  I have found one, just one website that had the tiniest bit of helpful advice.  I’ve seen a few others that say a few nice things, but mostly it says, depression will get you too.  Go do nice things for yourself.  Which is bull shit.  Yes, I do stuff, even if I don’t want too.  Actually, especially when I don’t want to.  I reach out when I’m lonely.  I no longer hesitate to call my pals or my mom.  But I miss my boyfriend.  I miss him like nothing I’ve even felt before.  He’s not the next state over.  He’s not out of town on business.  He’s not out with the fellas. He’s at his home.  He’s probably playing games or watching something on Netflix.  He might be drinking too much, as he seems to like to do now.  I miss who he was, I miss what the depression swallowed.  He’s there.  He’s just a short drive away, but he’s gone.