Now that I am on the other side of the grief – lemme tell you . . . it got bad.
There is a post sitting in my drafts where I would just pour out all the sadness and hit save and walk away.
I don’t know if I will ever open it to read.
I have another post where I saved each comment from facebook and twitter from my original post about the breakup.
I don’t know if I will ever open it to re-read. But I’m grateful it is there.
I slept those first couple of weeks. Non stop. I would get out of bed and go to work. Shutting myself off by putting on the blinders of “don’t talk to me, can’t you see I’m so busy being a good employee?”
I would come home and sleep.
Not eating. That 25 pounds I lost? Not healthy. I’ll take it as a perk, but seriously? Going three days without eating – and not giving a fuck that I wasn’t eating? Badness.
There was an awareness of how much pain I was in.
And there was an awareness that I could make that pain . . . stop.
I’m livin’ in a pharmaceutical world. I didn’t research it, but I was pretty certain there was enough Xanax and Vicodin in the cabinet to solve any pain issues I was having.
I’d previously fantasized about how easy it would be to make a nice cocktail and watch the Dude down it unknowingly.
Now I just sat aware that I could solve my problem of pain without doing any work.
And I tell you this for two reasons.
When I say I am good now – when I say I am on the other side, I want you to understand clearly how far I have come and what a painful, difficult victory it is for me to sit here for the first time in my life and clearly know I am OKAY. And even when I am temporarily not okay, I know I can find my way back to where I am this moment.
The other reason is that yesterday, one of my dearest friends was asking me if I’d ever struggled with depression. Uh yes. Yes my love. She had her own questions and her own struggle and was wondering if it was time to walk the road of the little white pills. I was frank with her about anything she asked (I know you are surprised.) Today she sent a message saying, “Thank you for sharing part of your most personal struggles. I really appreciate it.”
And that’s when I knew I needed to get this post out. If I’m going to share part of my most personal struggles then I think I need to be honest and tell you just how bad it got.
How bad I got.
I don’t know how to end this particular post. I wish I was graceful and poetic in this moment.
I wanted to die. Now I want to live.
And if you are reading these words, then you are part of the puzzle that has brought me to this happy place.
So thank you.