It's Been A Very Long ....

..... month.

Actually, it's been over a month.
But the days have grown longer and more difficult to get though with each passing week.
This was the worst Christmas yet, I think.
It's difficult to remember the details of the last 2, so maybe it wasn't as bad, but I think it was.

I have made no secret of the fact that I had to start taking antidepressants a few months after Jim died.
It became a life or death situation.
They had to be adjusted a couple of times over the years, but they did a good job of keeping the chemicals in my brain balanced.

And this past August I went out of town and stayed longer than I planned.  I did not bring enough meds.
So I missed a couple of doses.
And when I came home, I decided it was a good time to try to wean off of those drugs and see how I did.
I thought I did well.
And really, I did do well.
By the end of September I was off of them.

And I went through some emotional and very trying times during the fall .... all without the aid of my meds.
And then Thanksgiving came, and surgery, and the 4 year date ..... and Christmas.
All I kept trying to focus on was making it to January.  If I could just get through all of the holidays, I was sure I'd be home free.
But the spiral had already begun.
I just didn't recognize it.

That's the awfully sneaky thing about the spiral of depression .... its grasp is very gentle at first .... you don't really feel it pulling you in and sucking you downwards.
Until it's almost too late.

By the time I knew I was spiraling, I thought I was still a strong enough swimmer to break free.
I still fought against it.
And I remained quiet about it.
If kept quiet, and kept fighting .... I'd beat it.
If I kept acting like everything was "fine" .... it all would be.

But by Christmas Eve Day, I knew that this was one battle I was not going to win.
At least, not the way I had thought.
And by then, it was almost too late.
Almost.

So I started back on my meds, knowing that I will now be on them for the rest of my life.
And normally, I'm ok with that.
But I'm not feeling normal .... yet.
So I hate it.
I hate the fact that Jim's death not only took him, but it changed me, physically.
It left me forever different and forever reminded that I am not, nor will I ever be, the same.
And it's not fair.

It's not fair that you have to lose half of your heart ..... and then top it off with losing at least half of your self.
It sucks.
To put it mildly.

But hopefully, I'm on my way back to feeling balanced again.
I hope so.  Because feeling this way has been killing me.
Really.
And trying to fight it and keep quiet about it ..... has been beyond exhausting.
I feel like I could go to bed and stay there for at least 2 weeks.
But I hope to not feel that way much longer.
Each day I hope to not cry, not feel overwhelmed, not feel like I'm sitting at the back of a dark, cold cave.
Today, for the first day in a very long time, I did not feel that way the moment I woke up.
So that's an improvement.

And I know I'm not alone in this fight.
And I know that many of you have been through this same fight.
Some for the same reason ..... others for different reasons.
The reasons don't matter ..... the battle is the same.

I'll get there.
Small steps.
Small victories.
One breath at a time.