Tag Archives: suicidal thoughts

Jun12

When Depression Partners With Grief

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If you’ve read this blog for any length of time at all, you’ll recognize that I’m generally encouraging, or at least positive and pretty upbeat. I apologize in advance, because this is not going to be that. The words that follow will be fairly unfiltered and mostly unedited.

I’m tired, y’all. (Yes, I said y’all! I was born and raised in the south, so it’s allowed!) So jokes aside, I’m just exhausted in pretty much every sense of the word.

Before I go any further, I should warn you that what you’re going to read isn’t comfortable, and may frighten you as you question how I’m doing. That isn’t my intent. And, know this – I am safe, just need a space to process all this. I normally wouldn’t so openly, but ours is a world in pain. If just one person feels less alone, then there is purpose in the sharing.

I’ll get right down to it. I’m feeling overwhelmed and like I said, exhausted. I feel like I am just barely managing to keep the tears at bay some moments. No, I’m not a walking waterfall of tears, but I’m finding that they have a mind of their own. They want out more than I try to prevent them.

This whole grief thing – it sucks. Yes, the sun does still shine from behind the darkest clouds, and there is tremendous beauty all around us – even when depression makes everything bleak and dreary. Even though I know depression lies, it’s hard to hold onto that when is talons claw deeper.

My parents watched as we said goodbye this side of Heaven to my 7 year old daughter. I watched my parents bury my brother a year later. Days before my daughters death (she knew she was dying) she remarked how this just isn’t natural. And she was right. It isn’t. Parents shouldn’t watch their kids die. It sucks.

Depression, especially when partnered with grief, is a dangerous thing. It robs you of the ability to see or feel the beauty everywhere. It encourages statements like, “I just can’t do this anymore,” or simply, “I’m done.” I feel that way often.

But, here’s the thing. So far, I’ve managed to hold onto the idea that depression lies, and grief won’t always be painfully intense. The problem I struggle with is this. It’s hope. For me, hope seems about as easy to hold onto as wet soap in the shower.

I don’t like living like this. I genuinely wonder how it’ll be possible to keep going another day, let alone decades. Yes, I have sporadic suicidal thoughts. More than I care to admit. They’re painful and annoying, but no – I don’t entertain them either. They come, and I let them go. I try my best not to dwell in those moments. I choose not to act on them.

Let me reiterate – I really am okay. Well, a better description would be safe. I’m not particularly okay right now, but I am safe. Like I said, I won’t take unsafe action when those bad thoughts invade.

I guess I just need to hear the same words I share with hurting people all over the globe. It truly is okay to not be okay. It won’t always be this intensely painful always. Hope is real, and it always will be. I am a living, breathing story – one with chapters still being written. My story matters. I matter. I need to hold onto these things, rather than the lies depression partnered with grief tell me.

If you need to hear these things, or you know sometime who does, please tell them. You may be the lifeline they need in whatever crisis moments they’re walking through. If you hear nothing else I’ve said, please hear this. You are not now, and not ever, alone. I know the storms will still rage, and can be damaging – but one thing is for sure. You aren’t on your own, and neither am I. Take my hand if you need a friend…and please also offer yours. As I wrote last week, there is power in an outstretched hand; healing happens in friendship.

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Jun23

Painfully Broken – When All You Know And Believe Comes Into Question

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*******Trigger Warning*******
This blog post will speak mostly of depression, but also suicidal thoughts. If this is a struggle for you, please reach out – but I also understand if you are unable to read further.
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I actually wrote this post a few days ago, and true to form, I’m in a slightly different, and much better place currently / mentally. It’s still on my heart to share because I am not alone. If I believe this, then there must be others who will stumble upon today’s blog post, and need to know there IS hope, even when the silence seems deafening. This is also a little longer than normal, so you may want to take it in parts!
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There are days and there are times that life seems shattered. Unbearable. It is almost as if nothing is real – like all I ever knew was a lie. In those moments, I feel so broken – where all my thought processes, beliefs, and even faith is so unsure. I question myself, trying to figure out who I even am. It’s that moment where the person staring back as I look at the mirror is a stranger. I often feel like a stranger in my own skin.

You might wonder how I handle those times. Simple – I don’t. Just kidding. It is imperative that I remember (like with roller coaster style depression) that the person I fear is lost or hiding – or why just plain feels unfamiliar – is really still there. Maybe, just maybe, the person looking back from the mirror is a culmination of all many of life’s experiences, all bundled into one. Maybe I don’t recognize those eyes staring back at me because I choose to avoid the reality packed away, deep inside.

I also mentioned my faith. Yes, it still exists. I still believe in God, and give Him credit where credit is due. However, I’m not going to lie. I have moments where I wonder if any of it is even real, or if it matters at all. I question a God who seems so passive sometimes. My daughter battled cancer for three out of her seven years of life. She has beautiful, innocent childlike faith. She still died. Based on the faith I have, He COULD have miraculously healed her – but he chose to silently not lift a finger. He sat by, unable to be bothered. But yet – all of this is so far from the truth.

You see, I simply must continuously commit to memory, and make a place in my heart for the knowledge that, before she was my daughter, she was His. I don’t know why some are healed – and I don’t believe I ever will on this side of Heaven. And I’m learning that this truly is okay.

On the days where hope is shattered, and where my heart is also – seemingly just broken, beyond repair — it is then that I must somehow remember the vital nature that hope still exists, even when I can’t see it.

Right now, I freely admit that I need help – that I’m not where I need or want to be emotionally. Of course, that comes and goes – and seems capable of changing moment by moment.

Please allow me to share a snippet or two from a post I made in a community that prides itself on being a safe place for ALL human beings – regardless of their status in life, marital situation, sexual orientation, or any defining characteristic they may identify with — all without expectation or requirement to even be okay. They welcome people, exactly where they are. They offer love and friendship, coupled with a grace that it’s so often times messy. Messy grace. Anyway, these are part of the words I shared openly in that safe place. Now I need to also share with you. Need may be a strong word, and that’s okay. This is a strong and messy situation – one I’m realizing I’m far from alone in.

I want to start by saying this is a safe place. That’s why I’m here – about to say what I have to say. What I don’t need or want is your pity. What I do need is your love. I need you to hear me. And those of you who pray – I need you to do that. Though, not gonna lie – not sure how I feel about that. Oh, I also need to tell you to stop reading now if the occasional “bad word” is going to offend you. I don’t intend many – but I also don’t pretend I will be perfect in that area right now. No one even has to reply – cause I just want to say these words. Feel these feelings and either find a way through it, or not.

Oh, and as a side note. I am a Christ follower. I do go to counseling / therapy, and my primary doc is aware of all that I’m about to say. I am not suicidal, but sure as shit, I am definitely having suicidal thoughts. (yes, also known by my medical team, and church leadership.) So, to say I’m overwhelmed – that would be an understatement of fairly epic proportions. I wish I could honestly tell you that I care anymore. I do but I don’t. I am so damn tired of people who don’t mean what they say, say what they mean, and have actions that match their words. I’m tired of trusting people and expecting their words to be honest and true. I’m tired of people telling me they’ll be here any time, and that being bullshit. I’m tired of life. I’m just done. I’m not talking about killing myself – I’m just feeling so over it all. I’m finally realizing that I can’t keep believing that it’s ever going to change. How I’m able to believe that for others, and not myself – I have no idea. But it’s true. My heart is shattered – just so broken. And I know it always will be. Here’s the God’s honest truth. I wish I wanted to be alive – that I wanted to live because life is good. But, friends, that’s just not the case. I want to live so I my death doesn’t cause other people pain. But it will, and I hate that. So, here’s I am. Living for others. But – I’m guessing that living for any reason beats dying for none. While my heart is shattered, my faith seems to be crumbling. I don’t say that lightly. I want to believe that my faith is as real as it every has been. But, if I’m being honest – that just isn’t true right now. My hearts desire is to fall in love with the heart of God again. I want to believe all the things I tell each of you (or anyone with ears) every day – that God is good, that He is still God, and that He’s in control (even when we’re not)… But I don’t know who I am anymore – let alone what I believe. I guess I still believe the things I always have, since coming to know Christ. I just don’t care. I have missed the previous 4 or 5 of the previous 6 weeks of church. Since I started faithfully attending church, this has never happened. At first, it really bothered me. Until it didn’t. The first 3 weeks, I was sick. I finally get over that mid week to find myself in the ER Friday night, a week and a half ago. 7 hours later, went home. Sick or some other valid reason, I didn’t attend. I think it really made me sad and miss the place — till I realized the place didn’t actually miss me back. I could count the fingers on less than a full hand, the number of people who carried enough to be the body of Christ – who reached out and asked if I was okay, or simply told me that they missed me. Yeah I know, it’s not all about me. Trust me, I know. I say that, but I care deeply. But I think I’ve just been walking a path where I’ve been slowly giving up. Praying for the faith and hope that says keep going. And clearly – whether I realize it or not – I’ve found that faith and hope time and time again. Cause I’m still here. I have breath in my lungs, and my heart still beats. See guys, I don’t really need anything. I guess I just wanted a safe place to write all this out – the safe haven this community is. What I don’t know is why. Why I felt compelled to share this. Please don’t feel pressured to reply. I mean, feel free – but ya don’t have to. I guess writing is therapeutic for me. Cause, fun

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So, as I mentioned before, I am not currently suicidal – and not having suicidal thoughts at the moment either. I’ll share more of recent / current events in the coming days.

To anyone who is hurting – and to anyone having suicidal thoughts – you ate not ever alone. Know this. Not ever do you need to walk this earth (as messed up as is on some days) alone. If you’re struggling, please reach out.  You can post here, or reach out via my contact me page. I may not be able to physically do anything – but I’m more than willing to listen – to hear you, and to simply – even virtually just sit with you in this pain.

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