Better and Worse

First the better: I am still hurt but I am no longer angry or concerned. Two out of three ain't bad, as they say.

Something occurred to me as I sat in my car with a sleeping Lily, no boys and nothing to read this afternoon. My friend who hurt me so cruelly is me ten years ago. Let me explain. Ten years ago I met my best friend. Her husband has Bipolar disorder. His disorder led, over a 4 or so year period to him being put on permanent disability. In the early days of his troubles, my friend and I spent a great deal of time wondering why he could just pull himself together and get over it. Neither of us had ever experienced depression of his severity before. We had been through tough times and gone through the blues, but we had never been in the deep ugly areas of depression where we no longer wanted to live. We had never truly believed the world would be better of without us. In an attempt to get him to get over himself and function, she gave him ultimatums and they spent a great deal of time fighting and in upheaval. It took years of forcing her husband back to work only to have him fall apart and end up committed that she came to understand that he was not "giving in" to his depression, it was overwhelming him and even though he desperately wanted to function "normally," he could not with the level of stress that came with his job.

What this is all leading to is that my friend genuinely believes she is right and genuinely believes I am just wallowing and not doing what I need to do. It is easy for her to judge because she has never been where I am. Add to it the fact that she has a problem with fat people in general and you get the kind of treatment I have received from her. So, I am not angry anymore, nor am I worried about some unknown stressor in her world. She just is who she is. Who I am and what I am going through are impossible for her to understand and therefore easy for her to judge. We all do that.

Now the worse: the thoughts are back. They are not as persistent and oppressive as they were, but this is the first time they've been back in about a week so it is very disappointing and worrying. Hopefully it was just momentary, from the stress that preceded them. If they come back again I am going to have to consider inpatient treatment or intensive outpatient.

I realized earlier today that I never got around to giving a history of my depression. I will try to get to that soon. I think I will find it cathartic.

Today was a 4 at best. Tomorrow is Papa's birthday so I am hoping for a 5 or even a 6.

God Bless all who read this.