I Am Sure It Was Done In Love


This post is in no way directed to anyone reading it. It is actually directed towards a person I had a conversation with yesterday. So when the word “you” is seen, it isn’t you dear reader. πŸ™‚

It must be nice to know so much. Is it even a little possible that you could be wrong about something? You are extremely right and wise about much of life, but depression is really something you know little about. Though I can never say it to you vocally, how dare you tell me that I am not trying hard enough. How dare you propose that if I would just try harder, things would be better. How can you tell me I just need to “get over” the depression and anxiety. How dare you?

How dare you make accusations and assumptions thousands of miles away? How dare you be insensitive and uncaring? I must remember though that you are of a certain time and mindset. You are geared to think of depression and anxiety a certain way, but your words hurt me. I cried harsh and bitter tears last night. I cried and screamed into pillows. I was suffocated with too much air. Thanks so much for your advice. You know what I really wanted? I wanted someone to tell me that I am ok. I wanted love. I wanted someone to listen to what is the real me and to still want me afterwards. I really wanted someone to make me believe I am not too far gone. Can’t you look at the mess that is me and love me anyway?

In your opinion, I am cheating God, my boss, and my church. I am believing that this is not permanent. Medication won’t fix everything, but it will help. In just over a month, I will be taking medication again. How that day is longed for. You seem to think I am too far gone, untreatable even. I am not broken. I just need some help. This is not my forever. I am holding on to that. I think this is my humanity. If human I am not allowed to be, what is the purpose here?

You tried to talk about reasons for trying. You mentioned the beautiful things in life. For you, seeing a rose in your mother’s garden makes life a little easier. You enjoy that moment. That literally made me laugh. I am not counting on a flower to make me feel anything at all. I mentioned that for me, it would be fun to burn the rose. You freaked out. You said, “yeah, why don’t we just color it black with blood running out of it.” Dang it, I think that sounds beautiful! Your idea of beauty and my idea are different. There is nothing wrong with that. You were so irritated by the fact that I like blood. You mentioned that as a child I would never watch anything on television with blood and gore. Gore, the pain of others, I cannot tolerate. Blood though is beautiful and a sign of life. Pain inflicted upon another being of any kind is terrible and deeply hated.

It amuses me that you think you understand. It is ironic that you say that really the majority of people deal with depression and anxiety. I am sure to a small degree that is true. I cannot believe that everyone feels the way I do right now. If they do, I cannot even resolve that kind of thought in my brain. It is far too devastating.You “ask” how people dealt with these issues years ago without medication and without help. My response is that they did the best they could. I cannot even imagine. You mean it as more of an accusation. If they could do it, can’t we do it today? Sure. But do you understand what they went through? I don’t either because we are blessed to live in this time. And I am not anyone else. I am not you. I am not those people from hundreds of years ago. I am me. Your box is not mine.Β 

It pains me deeply to know that you think of me in such ways. I hate that you can’t be proud of me and see me as beautiful in spite of my flaws. Here is my decision though, you are entitled to your opinion. I will deal with the hurt that comes from your thoughts. I will be honest with you but will not open up to you anymore. I will deal with this without your help. What was I thinking anyway? With the passage of time comes the realization that people can rarely be counted on. Sometimes arm’s length is required for safety reasons. This is life. I am doing the best I can here. I appreciate your attempt to be helpful. No doubt you were sincere and had good intentions. I love you still, but somehow, this seems unfair.

Β Β Β  This probably sounds pitiful. I know that some of you will understand as you deal with others who don’t understand your depression. How do you talk with these people if the topic arises? Do you have any previous experience with this? Thanks for reading!

Β 

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6 thoughts on “I Am Sure It Was Done In Love

  1. This sounds so painful for you – and I’m sorry for that. But I think it is so healthy, in a circular sort of way :), that you are able to vent your anger at this person in this way. You recognize that their views are not your views, their reality is not your reality. And you can notice that difference without directing anger inward. So many times I wish I could do exactly what you’ve done here!

    For me I have struggled to get others to really understand and accept what I’m going through (for the small number of people who know about my depression). And after in some cases a very long time of trying to get them to see it as it really is for me, I’ve come to some acceptance that they will never understand it from my perspective. And they will always have a different understanding of what I should do or need to do in order to live the best life I can live. But – that’s them. That’s not me. And their opinion cannot cause me to change the things that I know I need to do.

    Not sure if that’s helpful, but there it is! πŸ™‚

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    • It took a great amount of time and wisdom from others, such as yourself, to get to the point that the difference between my life and the lives of others could be seen as separated. It has been quite a process. πŸ™‚

      Your comments are always helpful! Glad that you have the confidence and courage to carry on regardless of what others may have to say! Thanks for commenting. πŸ™‚

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  2. How people dealt with it years ago doesn’t matter. I read recently that a pharaoh from ancient Egypt probably died in excruciating pain due to dental problems. Should we not have dentistry because people dealt with the pain for thousands of years? We are the benefactors of medicine, plain and simple. Sometimes we need to share our innermost thoughts with friends, but friends need to be better at being non-judgmental.

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    • Ouch! Poor Pharaoh. So thankful the medications and advancements that are available to us today. Love the points you make here. Thank you so much for your comment and very sensible words. πŸ™‚

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      • You’re very welcome. Sometimes it’s very frustrating when someone, who is trying to be helpful, gives bad advice. Just listening is fine sometimes. Thank you for following my blog, and I look forward to following yours as well.

        Rob

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