God makes beauty from ashes

When I'm depressed, friends I love tell me "count your blessings", "find 3 things you're thankful for", "what things are you happy about in your life?" And when I'm in the first few stages/levels of depression - I can do that. So today, here's what I'm thankful for: A home to come home to. I don't know - something about making a 'home' around me is something I always do. Ever since I was a little girl. I remember we would go camping and at even only 7 or 8 years old, I would make my tent 'home'. I'd bring pictures of my family and put them around my sleeping bag. I'd bring my favourite dolls/teddy bears and set them up right by where my pillows went. I'd arrange my sneakers neatly outside the front of 'my home' and take great pride in keeping my tent neat, tidy and 'welcoming'. I don't know why, but it was very important to me. It always has been. Even my desk at work is gettin...

It's been a tough week for me. Not tough depression-wise - but tough living again . I don't even know how to explain it, but it's a really hard thing to decide to "stick around" even though depression still wraps around me like awful spider webs. Sticky, horrible, and so restrictive to what I try to do. This week I've found that I wanted to fly before I could walk depression-wise. Because I'm not suicidal anymore (Praise God), I think I'm supposed to be back to 100% bubbly, positive, excited about life and extremely happy. They don't tell you about the long road between suicide and living again. It's a long and lonely road. When I felt lost and desperate - I could vocalise that in this blog. I could write about it. I heard from the people I love (thank you for writing to me) and I was able to confess "I'm really, really struggling" and get responded to. Now I'm not lost or desperate - but I'm not well again, ...

I'm feeling a lot better. I feel strange saying that. Guilty in a way. Really guilty - as if I'm cheating on life somehow. I'm not happy, though. I'm not 100% 'cured'. I'd love to say I was, but I'm not. Not yet. But I've "levelled up". I've gone from completely suicidal, frightened and desperate - to managing. I'm not in a deep, dark pit anymore - but I'm not fully out. I'm high enough in the pit to feel the sun's warm rays on my face, though...and that makes a huge difference. Alun's parents are here. So is his sister, his niece and his nephew. Anxiety up 100 notches. Praise God, meeting with his parents again was fine. We hugged and Mrs Thomas commented right away on how much weight I'd lost "you look wonderful, Janet" - from her, that's a big deal. It's a good start - a start I know God is part of. Anxiety down 30 notches. Alun's sister, however - is an entirely d...

I haven't written in the last few days. I've opened my blog up and just stared at the blank page and blinking cursor...thinking What now? But nothing came. No words. And for a writer - that is not a good thing. Mom came with me to see my favourite Doctor, Doctor D. I think having a DOCTOR telling Mom that jumping up and down would NOT help made a big difference. I knew something significant was happening - but all I could do was stare at the wall ahead. So Doctor D took all the extra time Mom needed and answered all her questions with the kindness and care I've come to know and love about her. And she didn't charge me a cent. She hasn't charged me in 7 years. I have the best Doctor ever. My phone beeps and pings all the time with messages from people I love. Alun is doing his ultimate best to look after me, be there for me and be around me. Mom is trying hard to understand and to support me through something she really doesn't understand ...

I had a long session with George - more crying. I said in the session "If you were to tie all the rope together in all of the world - it wouldn't reach half way to how very low I am" And I honestly believe that right now. George's pager went off. Another client waiting to see him. "Where are you off to now?" George asked "My Mom's" I said, bottom lip trembling. Why had I agreed to this? After these 2 tough appointments - I was spent and didn't want to do anything apart from going home. Now I was willingly putting myself in my Mom's line of fire. George grimaced "Argh" he said. He knows more about my family - and my dealings with them - than anyone in the world. "Do you think you're up for it?" he asked, concern all over his dear, sweet face. "Honestly? Nope. But Mom is trying. She wants to help, she just doesn't understand. There is a doorway there for healing and hope...so I have to tr...

Today, as usual - I was running late for my 11:00am psych appointment. I was looking forward to seeing "George" - we've been through a lot together and I regard him really, really highly. The first 2 buses that were meant to arrive at 10:20am and then 10:34am didn't arrive. Argh. So at 10:40am - 2 buses pulled up behind each other. I hate when this happens because then I'm going to be late - and I hate to be late. I rushed through the city - glad I chose flat ballet-type shoes instead of my usual wedges/heels and got to the Clinic by 11:05am. Not bad, JD. Not bad. George opened the main door and beamed his friendly bunched-up-cheeks smile at me. I went through, expecting to be lead to George's office - but was immediately introduced to a young man in the narrow hallway; smiling away at me. "Did my secretary call you and tell you that I need you to meet with our resident psychiatrist, Dr B?" George asked. No she did not. "Oh...u...

I live my life on the edge of a knife. I live it second to second now - hanging onto life with my very fingernails, wondering if right now is going to be when the grief of being me kills me - or will I live another second? I put one foot...in front of the other. And stop. And hurt. Oh my GOD it hurts SO MUCH. And breathe in and out. And reassess - can I go on? I have to try. I HAVE to try. And put one foot in front of the other. And HURT. OMG it hurts so badly to live like this. And repeat. I texted Mom today. She rang right away. I couldn't ignore the call because I'd just texted her. Shoot. I swiped across to answer her call with hands that were already shaking and sweating. "Hi Mom" "You don't sound right" Because I'm dying, Mom. I'm slowly withering away and it is the most painful, awful thing I have ever experienced. "I don't feel great" I say with a wry smile - hoping to 'laugh it off...