Usually, I can control my emotions pretty well-especially after the diagnosis. Once I knew why I was always feeling hopeless, guilty, and alone, I was able to learn how to manage it and turn off “the bad thoughts”. However, sometimes you just can’t turn them off-they stick in your head, circling and circling until you feel like you’ll never feel happy again. For the most part, mine center around the need to be perfect all of the time. No matter how much I believe it is impossible to be perfect, I constantly feel like a failure because of the tiniest of mistakes. Last night, the clouds came in and no matter how much I wrote in my journal or meditated, I knew that the only way I was going to clear my head was to talk to someone. Unfortunately, there’s a little side effect of having anxiety, depression, and the constant need to be perfect. You don’t like to talk about your feelings. At least I don’t.
In my family history, I know of one other person who suffered from depression. There are numerous occasions of anxiety disorders but only my grandfather suffered from the sadness. However, I can’t possibly talk to him since he committed suicide forty years ago. Lucky for me, I have some incredibly stubborn friends who like to check up on me from time to time. Even though they can’t understand what I, and countless other people, are going through, they are truly a blessing as they sit and listen. Last night, I was picked up and was driven around in a car until I was ready to talk. Even though it took and hour of pointless chit chat to get me to finally open up, once I did, it helped incredibly. It isn’t even like he gave me world-changing words of wisdom or opened my eyes up to the light. He just sat and listened while I was able to get my thoughts in order, out in the open, and no longer tumbling through my head.
This sounds a little like a diary entry, I know. However, for those who share in my problems of having that need to talk to someone but just can’t bring yourself to do it, you should know that you’re not alone. I always felt like if I shared my problems with someone, they might tell someone and people would start to think I’m broken. I worried about putting too much on my friends’ shoulders to bear as it isn’t any of their problem to have to deal with me. I thought about breaking up my feelings among many people so no one would know too much but that would require trusting a lot of people which isn’t something I do. Why not go to a therapist? That can be expensive and as helpful as one can be, I don’t think I’m ready for that step yet. I’ve hardly even accepted the fact that I have these “issues” but I’m surviving.
What I do know is this: when my friends found out I was suffering on my own, they felt guilty that they hadn’t noticed. They asked “Why didn’t you tell me?” and “Is there anything I can do?” They told me that I should have come to them. Only a few know that I almost took things to a point of no return, they cried and I realized that I had hurt them by not trusting them. Last night, when I thanked him for listening to me, he responded only with “anytime, it’s what friends are for, right?” I almost cried right then and there. Some people really do care, and once you find them, you better hold on tight and never let them go. Friendship really is a beautiful thing.
Keep to your roots,