Thanks to an anonymous reader on my "Is It a Relapse?" post who wrote:
This is a great article! However, what have you done that helped you to come out of it since? I was hoping to read on and find out where you went from there (from this article). What were your next steps that made you feel secure and confident that you would be okay? Please continue with "the rest of the story" to the end.
My sanity update:
I am presently camping out (toasting marshmellows) in what I refer to as "the Waiting Place," eloquently described in Dr. Suess’s "Oh, The Places You’ll Go" (see next post). That is, I’m somewhere between recovery and relapse. After a day or two of nonstop tears, I felt a huge relief and thought that the brief visit to the Black Hole was merely a consequence of going off of the hormonal pill that I had been taking to shrink my benign tumor in my pituitary gland.
Unfortunately, though, the anxiety snuck back in. In my mood journal, I’ve rated the last ten or so days as a two or three (the number one being complete sanity and five being close to hospitalization). For the nine months (270 days) before that, I enjoyed "one" days, minus the occasional PMS melodramas and stay-at-home-mom grumpies. During that time I woke up without the nausea and tight knots in my stomach.
But, as so many of you know, the black dog (as Winston Churchill and some Beyond Blue readers refer to depression) is never too far away because most of us have an invisible, electronic fence around ourselves that zaps the poor guy the minute he tries to escape from our little worlds. The hour you get cocky and think you can coast for awhile--that everything is "so" under control--is precisely when that black mutt bites you in the ass.
So, here I sit, (with many of you no doubt) in the Waiting Place. I’m not suicidal. I’m not looking up gun stores in the Yellow Pages like I was a year and a half ago or plotting a half dozen ways to end my life. But let’s just say (and I know this sounds horrible, absolutely horrible … because I do so much love my husband and family) at this very moment I would be relieved if my plane went down. When anxiety and depression have me by the throat, as they do right now, I become envious of elderly people and those with terminal illnesses because their end is near. Death seems as enticing as an all-inclusive Sandals vacation package in the Caribbean. The Waiting Place is about "existing," as reader Bonnie described it on the message board of "They Just Don't Get It", until you can go back to "living" again.
As ugly as that sounds, it is an honest assessment of someone caught in the Waiting Place, and I pledged to myself and to God from day one of writing Beyond Blue that I would be totally sincere, completely and painfully candid, in expressing my opinions and feelings about depression in order to help those afraid to admit that they have, at times, scanned the obituaries to see who "won the lottery."
However, should you right now want to log off and never return to my doom and gloom, let me say this, worth repeating from my original my relapse post: As bad as I feel at moments right now, I’m not without hope. And that makes this place so much more tolerable than it was the last time I visited (courtesy of all my sky miles, now that I am a platinum member of Club D). I know that the Waiting Place is only that--a temporary position that will ultimately lead me to a better spot where I will once again be excited about David’s soccer games and Katherine’s dance recitals, and when I can wake up in the morning with thoughts of breakfast, not how I’m going to manage through the day.
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I want to thank you for sharing your story. I know what I need to do, but I'm going through the shamefull part, and it's not for me I don't want to hurt my family by airing all my dirty laundry embarrassing them anymore.
My addiction as they already know it has done just about enough. To go any deeper Is a hard thought for me.
There I go putting other people before me, trying to Recover.
Somebody Help Me.
SHAMEFULL: A couple weeks ago in my substance abuse group,it was brought to my attention just how self defeating shame was. There is such a difference between being ashamed of something you have said or done or simply 'messing up' or making a mistake!! Also learned that there is a huge difference between lying and denial. Lying and shame is knowingly being deceitful whereas denial is acually beleiving what you are saying or doing to be true. As a in-the-very-beginning-stage-of-recovery-addict-depressive-adhd-bipolar? person myself,still trying to find Dr.Right with an accurate diagnosis,and the painstaking wait for the correct combination of medication,where you are at is a place I can relate to. Please get help....FOR YOU!!!!!!! Hold your head up high and be proud at least of the fact that you are admitting you need help. I know for someone has always been the 'caretaker'of everyone elses emotional needs,it is very very difficult to seek "help'. But once you do it is such a relief and feels as if a 100 lbs has been lifted off your shoulders. And how can we be there for anyone else if we are overwhelmed. Just keep being a good person who is able to look in the mirror(most the time anyway!) confident that that person has always been honest,never cheated any one,nor stole from any one,and who sincerely cares about the well being about others. Just don't neglect careing for yourself as it seems to me that you are a GOOD person you just don't realize it yet!!! The road seems to be twisted and bumpy,with potholes and everlasting construction and confusing road signs and way too many forks,littered with garbage and speed traps and inconsiderate drivers,but what a great feeling to arrive at your destination in one piece and safe!!! At least for this day!! Learning to take things one-day-at-a-time and trying to not let all the crap that I have no control of clutter my mind(which is extremly difficult) is the only way I have found,so far,that seems to be of some help. Hang in there and you are in my thoughts and prayers!!!!!
I know and believe with all my heart - and this is for all of us -
that this too shall pass . . .
Oh, God, where do I start ? That "hole" everyone describes is where I reside...... I have moments when I'm not there - but I ususlly slide back there. Oh.... those minutes and thankfully day's , well a day, when I'm not there are so absolutely great - how I wish they would stay. I feel like having my hair done, eating, dancing - things that use to feel normal - man, their so fleeting..... Drinking was never a problem for me - didn't drink a drop for 6 1/2 years - never smoked before - another "person" took it up at 50.. People are surprized I'm the age I am - actually my therapist said I'm "stuck" at 14 - How in hell did I start to smoke at 50? The hole misses me. Babs
I feel like I have been in a "waiting place" since I was 12 years old, and I am now 51. I take my meds, I am much better than I have been in the past, but I am just biding my time. As soon as my responsibilities are gone, which would be my mother, aunt, and my 3 wonderful greyhounds, I am in trouble. Deep serious trouble. I will not need to remain here and deal with all my insecurities, feelings, and the bullshit of life. I will be free to leave, and perhaps, maybe, find some relief. I do live with hope, that maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow I will have a break through. Maybe tomorrow my life will change. Once my responsibilities are gone though, I will be free to do what I feel must be done, what I have been waiting to do for the last 39 years. God help me.
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