Darker Days

Something has changed recently. Days have been dark.

I have been doing really well for months.. almost a year. Tonight I sit here drinking alcohol, which I have done for the past 4 consecutive nights. This is not me. I don’t even like drinking most of the time. But I have stopped on my way home several nights to buy alcohol to sit and drink alone. I need to sleep. I need these thoughts to go away. These dark thoughts have not been in my head for a good two years. I want to cut. I want to slice open my skin and get the pain outside of my body. I am sitting here on the floor watching The Yellow Jackets. I want a razor blade. I am trapped in my head. “Make it stop..” I know I do not want to make anymore marks on my body. But my thoughts will not stop until I can make something happen. I sit in my misery and am thankful that I have nothing that could really do any damage. I drink, take my sleeping pills, and drink some more. I can finally sleep.

I awake with a feeling of darkness. My first thought is that I cannot wait to get off work, drink, and crawl in bed. I struggle to get the motivation to go to work. Every fiber wants to call off. I can’t do that. I am not sick. I am fine physically. My mind is tormented.

All day I am trying to think of an excuse to go home. I am a terrible liar, so saying I don’t feel well is not going to work. It has been slow. I bet I can ask to go home early if we flex. My boss is in a meeting, I will ask when she comes out. Ten minutes later I hear my co-worker crying about her sisters dog dying. She is so distraught that they send her home. Fuck! Now I really can’t leave. It is hard to smile, hard to focus. I just tell myself over and over that this will pass. I pray that God takes away the pain I am feeling. This is not normal!

The days continue to feel grey and dark. Two Sundays in a row I am sitting at church and the tears come. I cannot stop them. One week I was alone. It was all coming to the surface. I was hysterical. A woman grabbed my arm and walked me out of the sanctuary. How embarrassing. I broke. Now came on the panic attack, ugly crying, and feeling like I couldn’t hold myself up. I cry for the entire church surface. It all spills from my mouth; mothers day is coming up- the desire of my heart is being shattered. I will never be a mom. My longest friend has also struggled with fertility, but has been able to have one baby. Now they are trying for another. It worked, she is pregnant. I am so happy for her but I hate the idea that this journey is not mine. I am trying to rationalize how I just need to be okay. That this isn’t Gods plan for me. But then am I giving up? Kevin and I have had some conversations around the topic. Financially it is impossible to do right now. And right now is all we have. We have tried to take out loans and shuffle things around, but it is not within our means to move forward. 

I miss my mom. Mothers’ Day is coming up and I am dreading it. For a moment my mom is alive. I make myself believe that she is not dead. But she is. I hate how everyone is talking about mothers day and if they’re not, the inevitability of the day is approaching. Not only am I not able to celebrate my mom, but I will never be able to celebrate the day for myself.

I am changing jobs. I do not want to at all. I enjoy-ish my job. I understand that it puts a strain on my marriage to be gone so many days out of the week. I am willing to let this go if it means honoring God and my marriage. I just think, Why? Why is it always me having to adjust or change? I am angry, yet I am at peace. I know this is the right move. I still don’t like it, but I know I am being obedient. 

I am angry about my size, my weight. I long for the size I was years ago. I am determined to get there again. The restricting and diet pills seem to work and then I become aware of the abuse I am putting my body through and stop my bx. But this time it is longer. I know that I am not doing what I need to do to ultimately be healthy. My rational brain tells me that I cannot go on forever starving myself just to lose a few pounds. That when I do eat again that my body will be confused and hold onto calories. In the moment I can’t stop. I feel so powerful to be able to not eat. I walk taller and I feel prouder the longer I can keep food out of me. I love the rush. When I eat I feel like a failure. My mind is consumed with thinness. I am spending more than 70% of my day planning my weight loss or talking myself out of eating.

My nightmares have made for the most struggle. I am taking my medication at night to sleep, but I am not sleeping. I toss and turn for what seems for hours and then wide awake by 3:00 am. The time I am sleeping I am haunted by nightmares. I awake covered in sweat. I know I am safe. I know it is just a dream, but 5 out of 7 nights this is happening. I can’t make them stop. I can only take more meds and drink. Even that really isn’t helping. I am so irritable without sleep. My husband thinks I am mad at him and it probably seems like I am. It hurts to say good morning, it hurts to smile, it hurts to engage. I want to stay in my bed with my head under the covers in the dark. This is my safe place. I want everyone to go away.

I want each day to end as soon as it starts. I have been trying to do opposite action. Some days I can’t. Some days I try. I have been in bed for 10 hours. I tell myself to get up nd take my dog for a walk. I make it down the street about three houses in and can’t do it anymore. I tell myself to do the opposite and hang out with a friend. I do. I sit miserably only thinking about how hard it is to engage or be sincere. I want to crawl in a hole. I make myself stay for over an hour. I do not feel better. My anxiety is so high. I just need to get home. I am too distracted to find any comfort in being with someone else. I have to be at a soccer game to coach. It takes everything in me to go. I have no choice. I have committed to doing this and I have people depending on me. This is opposite action for sure. I try to smile and talk. After a few minutes it does become easier and being in the fresh air has helped. I am calm for a moment. I tell myself, see- this is what happened when I get myself into a different environment… It does help. The game is over and I get in my car. I feel dread. I crawl back in bed. This is where I need to be. I close my eyes and try to sleep. I drift off here and there, but at least I am home.

I have had this date on my calendar to attend this Christian womens conference. I had even invited friends. It is an all day event and I feel disgusting. I want to stay home. Opposite action I tell myself. I go with my friends. During the conference the topic of infertility keeps popping up. I am hearing stories of women who struggled for years, had failed IVF, and felt broken hearted. But all the endings to the stories are the same. They all had a baby. I understand that these stories were told to show God’s presence and how persistence of prayer works. But all of them ended up with a baby. This is fucking nuts! Can’t one person just not have a happy ending and lets talk about how that goes!! I am doing my best to not let my emotions get mixed up with faith and God’s answers to prayer for their children. It is hard. I want to sleep. I do not want to compare my story, it would just be nice for someone to walk in my shoes and be able to tell about God’s greatness still. It is finally over. I ate lunch. I hate myself. I shouldn’t have eaten. I didn’t need to, but I did. I can feel the weight increasing in my body. I want to tear every piece of fat off my body. Why am I so weak? How could I be so dumb?! I knew eating would be a bad choice. I get home and I am exhausted. I crawl into bed.

I am awoken with a nightmare. This time it is different. I feel like I am suffocating. I awake and feel like I am being pressed down into my mattress by hands. Something is firmly trying to hold me down. I feel paralyzed and I can’t move. This only lasts for several seconds. Then I am able to sit up. I am terrified. It feels dark around me. I have no strength to do anything about it. I turn over and go back to sleep. 14 hours later I awake. I have to go to church. I have made a commitment. I have no choice.I get up and head out the door.

Tears again?! I stand beside Kevin in church and lose it. The tears come. They won’t stop. I have not wanted to admit it to myself but I am depressed again. Like a bad depression. I just pray. I pray for God to take it all away. To bring me peace. To help me know that all of this is part of his plan. I do believe that, but it doesn’t make the pain stop. 

I am trying. I am trying to find the positives in each day. I am not without. I have a loving husband, home, job. I have more than a lot of people. I have friends that love me- even when I avoid them. I realize that depression is a part of me. I know this will pass. But this has been the longest stretch of depression I have felt in a long long time. I know things I need to do, like not drink alcohol, eat healthy, take my meds, stop taking diet pills, get fresh air, journal/walk/paint… something. Then I also realize that I am going through a lot. I have a lot of things on my plate and anyone would feel overwhelmed. I have things to look forward to. I feel alone. I have no one to talk to that would understand my mind or that I wouldn't freak out by me talking about my mind. I get a message from my dear friend. She is pregnant. With twins! I want to fucking punch someone.