I'd rather have Cancer than Depression. Here's why:
- Cancer has treatments that either kill it or kill you.
- You know where you stand with Cancer.
- People understand Cancer.
I never know what is going to send me into a tailspin. I never know if I am going to wake up able to leave my bed. I constantly want out. I constantly want to run away, like the depression won't follow me wherever I go. I feel bad for my children every day for having to grow up with me as their primary caregiver and I can't even handle my own feelings. How am I supposed to teach them to manage theirs?
I drive to and from work in tears half the time. I try to put on my face when I get to my parents house so they don't worry. I hate feeling helpless to myself and looking stupid to the ones I reach out to for help. I reach out wrong. I reach out by attacking them for not being there. They don't know I need them. They have their own lives to live. I start fights with them so that I have a reason to feel angry and lost and alone. If they fight back, and they do, it only fuels whats going on inside me. Never do they reply with " I'm sorry you are having a bad day, is there anything I can do for you?" That just leads me to believe they don't know me. No one really knows me. No one knows my anger. No one knows how hard I battle against the vengeance that runs through me every day. No one knows that it takes every muscle I have to stop myself from smashing everything in my way sometimes. My fists are clenched. No one knows that I KNOW I will be alone forever. I know because you can't live with me, I can't live with me. How could anyone ever live with me, let alone really truly love me. I'm a mess and I have spent 30 something years trying to get a reign on myself with no luck. The minute I think I have it the demon rears its head again and I'm at the bottom of my hole and I don't want to dig myself out anymore.
I have had friends, boyfriends, lovers, even a husband who have dealt with depression. I was sympathetic to their feelings at every turn. I tried endlessly to be everything they needed to me to be. I tried to help in every way humanly possible. I tried patience, kindness, gifts, humor, drugs, silence... everything. Why did none of them ever try to do anything for me?
My mom tries to buy my happiness. She doesn't understand depression. She doesn't have it, not like me or my dad. She has watched us both for years battle this and has no idea what it feels like to be in our shoes or what to do to help. My sister has always told me I was better than whatever seemed like the current problem. She has always told me how she envies how I just laugh and carry on through whatever I have been through. What are my choices? She was lucky enough to find an amazing man to love her and start a family with and I've always felt bad for her having to watch me ride this whirlwind. She doesn't need this in her life. My poor kids. They love me so much. I love them so much too. I worry everyday that my inability to keep up with their messes, which causes me to hide in my room so as to not deal with it at all, will have an effect on them. Will they grow up and say " I don't know, my mom spent most of her time hiding in her room or sleeping." Will they know that I wanted to try. I wanted to come home and do projects. I wanted to go on walks and adventures with them. I want to read to them and play games and laugh, but I can't. I can't because inside I am crying and outside I am doing everything I can not to show them I am broken. I can't because when they argue over who sits where in the car or who touched who first or who is making what annoying noise I just want to scream and cry and quit. I don't want to anymore at that point. I just want to go back to my room and go back to sleep.
I wish I had Cancer instead of Depression. Then people would know I needed help. They would know how to help me. They would know what is wrong. I would have some idea of when it might end.
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