Well, shit.

I dreamed that Ian & I and a couple friends of ours (and their kid) were on a vacation. He & I were being flirty & fun, and I was going to join him in the shower. He said something about disappointing me and I remembered a dream I'd had that he had died by suicide. As I went to join him, he got out, and I decided not to say, "No, I have no expectations of this going anywhere permanent, just don't do something like kill yourself and break my heart."

It hurt to wake up from that one.

Stupid dream.

I have grown more quiet about my grief. In part because I'm saving things to post to the new blog. In bigger part because I'm starting to get tired of hearing my own sadness all the time.

If I'm sick of it, how can anyone else not be?

So I get more quiet, and try to only post things that are important or uplifting. I'm not hiding how I am, and if anyone asks (and seems to actually want to know,) I'll tell them. But I'm not broadcasting as much.

Maybe that's bad. Maybe I should keep putting it out there. I don't know. I know I'm posting this to LJ, where a grand total of maybe six people will see it...so while I'm putting this out there, I'm not putting it out very far.

But tonight, after trivia, where I felt like a drag on everyone's mood, and a car ride home and talking to my mom for almost an hour, I discovered I'd forgotten something to let my bug guy into my house to treat for spiders, got really mad, hung up with mom because it was going to get messy with me snapping at her for no reason that had anything to do with her, and then cried for half an hour. Not quiet sniffling in a corner crying, rather, great gasping breathtaking sobs crying. Wailing and curling up in a ball and rolling around and choking on snot running down the back of your throat crying.

And then I went in and threw up for about 15 minutes. It stopped me crying, at least...

Then I took a shower, and now I'm trying not to get mad at my cat who just wants attention from me, but is getting in the way of my posting this...

I'm not doing better. I don't feel like I'm improving at all... I'm so tired... And I feel like I have no choice but to be strong and soldier through... What else can I do? But I hurt to the very core of my being, and I'm so sad I can't imagine being not sad ever again, and I'm so sick of being sad... I feel like all I do is make everyone around me sad, and I feel so terrible for it.

And I don't know how to end this. Usually, a final parting thought will come to me and I'll finish up strong and impactful, and tonight? Right now? All I can think is, "I miss him." There's nothing else in my world right now... Nothing else in my brain. Nothing else in my heart. I just miss him. All I am is a great black hole of sadness and longing and pain.

I've been semi quiet for the last couple days. (I know, it doesn't seem like it, does it?)

That's for two reasons... First, I've been in a bit of a holding pattern. No progress to speak of, but no new setbacks. I have good moments and bad... And most are kind of just there, overshadowed by the sadness.

The second reason is that I've been hosting my best friend from college, who drove from Columbus, OH to come support me. She is a wonderful person, and a therapist to boot, so she's had some interesting observations and has been a real help because she knew how best to be with me, and help me be comfortable being with her.

Today, she helped me put up the memories displays in my house, and stood with me while I sobbed.

Honestly, today's been one of the worse days in this thing... Not because of her, but just because I seemed to be more emotionally.... Unstable? Raw? On edge? Something in that mix. I just felt like I was about to lose it all day long. Not sure in which way... But lose it. Maybe crying uncontrollably, or screaming, or hitting my couch or walls, or.... I don't know. I didn't. Maybe I should.

That I should is not outside the realm of possibility. I don't do that. Lose it. Never. I don't know how. I've gotten close during this... In my car after the wedding... At his house one night, lying on his bed... But I always get to the point where I can calm myself down. Where I can get myself back under that iron tight grasp. Keep control.

I don't remember a time when I've EVER lost it. My mom might... She saw me as a kid... And I think every kid loses it sometimes... Right? But as long as I can remember, I have always held on to logic... To practicality... To control.

I think that might be because I'm scared of what I could do. Or say. It might be because I don't trust anyone enough to let them see me like that... And being alone and losing it is too risky.

Maybe it's because I just don't have it in me. I hurt more than I thought it was possible to hurt, but I can't see a benefit, really.

Except... Maybe it would be a release. Maybe I would stop being nauseated all the time. Maybe I'd stop getting tension headaches... Stop being so shaky that I'm a total klutz... Maybe.

Or I'd just do something stupid, harm myself or something else, and go back to being shaky and tense and nauseated in a few minutes anyway. It seems like that's too big a risk right now.

So I cry. I sob. I get some of it out. And then I cap it off and just feel bad. Sad. Hurt. Betrayed. Guilty. Defeated. Relieved. Lonely. Abandoned. Lost. Helpless. Confused. Wishful. Hopeless. Full of regret. Ashamed. Glad I had the time I did. Lucky. And any number of other things. They cycle through. Kind of in an endless random progression. Peppered throughout with numb.

I hurt for his sister. His parents. His life-long friends. I can't imagine their pain, and I wish I could help them. I can't. Just as they can't help me.

But... Actually? You know what? We can help each other. We have been. By bearing witness. By talking. By being there with each other and FOR each other. By remembering him... The good and the bad. The fun and the painful. By treasuring him in his entirety.

We help each other, and we'll eventually each get to a place where we can think on him and smile, because we loved him. Where it doesn't always and immediately cause pain and hurt. We'll get there.

At least, I hope we will. Because this? Where I am... Where I'm sure they are? This isn't sustainable. This will drive me mad. It's too big. Too painful. Too much.

So I have to get there. I have to believe I will. And I believe they will too. Hope is all I have right now. So I'm going to hold onto it with everything I am.

I think I just dreamt my end of life plan. After I retire, I'm going to have a series of younger foreign lovers, with whom I'll explore the world.

Sounds perfect to me.... :-)

Most, if not all of the descriptions I see of someone's experience with depression are major depression... Where they lose functionality, they contemplate suicide, their lives tailspin.

This has not been my experience.

I suffer from depression. There's no doubt of that. Yet mine is low grade. Insidious. Sneaky. Subtle.

My brand of depression is called dysthymia. It's chronic. It's not brought about by things, stress, events. It just is.

For a very long time, I've held it at bay with a low dose of Bupropion (generic Wellbutrin). I was doing so well that a year or two ago, I even reduced my dosage by half.

I recently realized that I should probably bump it back up.

What made me realize this? Not suicidal thoughts. Not the inability to make myself do things, or function normally. Not even a pervasive sadness.

What made me realize it was me thinking to myself that I didn't enjoy an activity that I've enjoyed immensely for a long time. Me thinking that it might be better to just stay home rather than go out and do it. Despite knowing that I do truly enjoy it. And me being self aware enough to realize that was odd.

I've been withdrawing from friends. I've been feeling as though they didn't like me anymore. I've been feeling like we just didn't click, through no fault of anyone... Just.. It was time. And I was alone again.

This was how I spend my childhood. My teen years. Even some college. I was outside looking in. Feeling disconnected. Alone.

Not worthless. Not suicidal by any stretch. I was functional, I had fun. I did things and had friends. But everything was just a little grey. I never cried myself to sleep, but I did lie there at night wondering if I'd ever fit. Wondering if people would care if I just disappeared.

I never felt like it was my fault. Never thought I was worthless. But I didn't really believe that anyone else could see it. And if they can't see it, then why would they care if I was around or not?

To an extent, that type of thing is normal. Everyone thinks something similar occasionally. But that is where I lived. That WAS MY LIFE.

Until I was diagnosed and started taking meds.... And then, suddenly that grey tint over everything was gone. And I realized that LIVING THERE IS NOT NORMAL. Visiting on occasion is. Constant residence isn't.

I'm lucky. I don't suffer major depression.

Yet, I DO suffer from depression. And I don't think I've ever seen an account of this particular brand. So I'm putting this out here. Because if that grey place is where you live? You should see if you can get help. It's not healthy. Sure, you're not likely to off yourself. But I'm here to tell you, seeing the world without that filter is lovely. And I don't want to live behind it again. Neither should you.

You may have to search for a medication that works for you. You may have to try more than one... I did. I found one thats side effects were negligible and acceptable. Don't give up.

And get help. It's so worth it.

Ok, so here's the thing.

If you honestly believe that the government is out to take away your freedom by taking away your guns, and that guns will save you from the omgsocialistgovernment, then you are not only delusional, but you're kind of stupid.

If the government wants to take away your freedom, they'll do it by taking your privacy.

They'll do it by taking your education.

They'll do it by taking your food.

They'll do it by taking your healthcare.

They're not going to do it by taking your guns. Because, frankly, they out-gun you anyway. In an all-out firefight between you and the evil government who's out to take your freedom, YOU WILL LOSE.

So WHY THE FUCK are we still prattling on with the endless debate about gun control when this country's CHILDREN ARE BEING GUNNED DOWN?

Folks, we need to check ourselves. Because 100%, we are on the wrong path, and more people are getting shot, starved, neglected, and silenced to death while we pander to corporations and businesses that couldn't care less about people.

Where is your humanity? Mine is crying in a corner because this is insane.

Share this wherever you want.

Since closing on the condo, I have been working on it almost every free minute.

This is the kitchen after taking the cabinet doors off and painting the cabinets white. You can see what color they were originally on the inside.

This is the guest suite with its teal/blue wall. The color on the other wall is this really versatile grey that changes what it looks like based on various things. That color was throughput the entire house except that wall and the bathroom, which is light blue.

This is the rec room with that grey color on the walls. It mirrors my master bedroom, so I don't have a picture of it.

Yesterday my mom and I finally finished a couple rooms.
The guest suite:

And my room:

Tomorrow, the rec room and hopefully kitchen will be mostly done. Because Thursday I need to make sure it's clean, and Friday I need to pack like a crazy person.

I may end up pulling an all-nighter on Friday and collapsing into sleep after the move on Saturday morning...

Whee.

It's coming together, which is nice. And my mom has been a godsend.

My night started with dreams that left me feeling lonely, sad, frustrated, and generally not ok.

It ended with sex dreams wherein a random (very handsome) door to door salesman and I got it on. A lot.

Brain may need some downtime too...