God makes beauty from ashes

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...

There I was, outside an old, greasy fish-and-chip shop. One that looked like it had opened 100 years ago - and somehow stayed open. Old posters on the wall, faded and torn with time, still advertising 'coke' with girls in pin-striped full body 'bathers' from like, the 50's or something. Bless. Google had directed me here because I'd asked for directions to my hair-extensions salon. I'm not good at directions. Turns out, neither is Google!!! The last time I went to get my hair extensions moved up/refreshed/whatever - I ended up at the beach. It was a GLORIOUS day for it, but not where I was supposed to be. This time, I ended up at a fish and chips store. Google mate, you are a lying bastard. I was meant to be sat in the salon chair with that awful black cape around me by 11:30am. It was 12:15pm (!!!) now and I was feeling incredibly anxious. Right. Time for an Uber. I pressed in my location, where I wanted to go and saw a little cartoon car ...

In case I die tonight (and no, I'm not going to stand in the middle of the road again)...I want you to know there have been so many blessings in my life. I can't count on my natural family - but I've been so blessed to make a family of my own and they are people I can count on all the time. I have a new little brother - Marc. He's been family to me for about 8-10 years. Marc is someone I think super highly of. He's smart, resilient, determined and gives me a run for my money when it comes to smack-talking. I love our epic battles online. I don't think I've won once - but one day I will :) I will keep trying. I love him. He's one of the coolest people I know and he's someone I can depend on. When I was suicidal - he was a brother to me in all the best ways. He still is. I can't love him any more than I do because it's already a lot . I have Christabel and Becci - little sisters to me. I guess I've always wanted little sisters so God ...

Since my last phone call with my Mom where she suggested "smelling flowers" to entirely cure my depression and struggle with suicide (aargghhhhhh!!!) I've changed her contact details from "Mom" to "Do not answer this call until you feel better" on my phone. I've done the same for my Dad. "Do not answer..." flashed on my screen yesterday and with a breaking heart, I let it ring and ring. Voicemail answered and my phone beeped a few moments later. Mom or Dad had left a message. Sighing, I sent out a prayer. Please God, protect my heart . I have no idea what's waiting for me when I call voicemail. This could break me or frustrate me - anger me and push me further into depression - or just be a casual 'hello'...there's only one way to find out. Heart thumping hard and my hands sweating, I dialled voicemail. "You have one new message" Deep breaths, JD. Ok. Let's have it. "Hello my Janny" Mo...

So. Since Tuesday, I've been home. When Alun and I left Dr D's on Tuesday morning, she signed me a Medical Certificate for the next 2 weeks. I'm stressing about every second I'm not at work. Because they're not going to 'wait' for me to get better. They're not going to hold my job until I get back. They're going to dispose of me and get someone else in that can 'hack the pressure' and be there full time without taking days off. So again, I don't sleep well. I slept in little snatches and woke up panicked and sore from tensing my muscles when I'm sleeping. Am I sleeping, though? Or just laying there with my eyes closed and waiting for my heart to stop? I stood outside in the traffic at 1am this morning. I stood in the middle of the road in my pjs and socks - no jumper - in the rain - and waited for a car to hit me. Just hit me. Just kill me. I can't go on. Every car slowed right down as it got close. I expected th...

Why yes, yes I believe I have. That's one of the first things someone says to me when I admit I'm in a bad way. "have you tried...?" Meditation - yep Yoga - every week Exercise - every day Eating healthy - yes Thinking positive thoughts - yup Focusing on your blessings - yes JUMPING UP AND DOWN - Ffs. I even gave it a try today. It made me cry for about an hour afterwards because 1) My Mom suggested it 2) I tried it, even knowing how UTTERLY RIDICULOUS it was 3) It didn't work and just left me feeling more bereft, angry and furious than I started out. Talking about it with a good friend- yes. Seeing a Counsellor - yes Seeing a psych - yes Considering hospital stay - yes Hospital - yes Group therapy - yes Do you know what? I'm trying EVERYTHING. All the time I'm trying. I WANT to just lay in bed. Just lay there. All day. All night. Just breathe. But I don't. I go to work I clean the house I do the dishes I empty the dishwash...

I decided today was my last day. So strange that you can make a big decision like that while doing a simple thing like starting up a dishwasher, but funnily enough - just that small thing pushed me over the edge. It's not hard to be pushed to breaking when I feel like a rubber band pulled so tight that at any second...it will snap. That's my sanity, right now. That's where I live - at breaking point. Today I went into work. Work has been really tough as the Minister is away on leave and so is the Chief in Staff (2nd only to the Minister). With the two "big bosses" away - as well as "Joyce" who is the "executive officer" (as far as I understand it - it's a glorified name for an office manager) ( And - OMG - honestly - who thought it would be great to have EVERYONE in charge away at the same time???) away...NO ONE is in charge. So Nicola and Stacee have enjoyed this to the FULLEST and have been DOING NOTHING as well as going away t...

My ladypains will arrive any day now. And with it, my imminent death. I know - I know. "So dramatic, Janet". But I know it deep in my bones. I will die this week . In the last 7-10 years, my lady pains have revealed themselves through ABSOLUTE RAGE. Rage that is all-consuming and so big, powerful, dark and frightening that I am terrified of what I'll say or do. Once a month - all hell breaks loose - and I'm blindly following myself around, shaking my head at the absolute carnage I'm capable of. Open-mouthed at my own capacity for rage and anger that it floors me. I can't imagine how awful this is for Alun to see. Lady pains were responsible for me breaking up with Alun 3 times. They were responsible for losing my sh*t and telling Alun's parents to FUCK OFF. They were responsible for me breaking a lot of things in the house (sorry). And lately - they are responsible - or I am - or both (?) - for making me a lot worse than I was to begin with. ...

One of my favourite bands of all time is Matchbox 20. It definitely helps a lot that the lead singer, Rob Thomas - is the FINEST specimen of man I have ever seen in my life. (This was before I fell in love with Alun so I'm allowed to say it). I mean...omg...he's so...he's gorgeous, he's a singer and he's amazing. And he's suffered crippling depression and writes about it with his best friends in the best band I've ever come across. One of my favourite songs is: "Could I just be you" - because this explains my depression so much. In it, the writer is comparing his depression and pain to someone elses' life - their normal, happy life. He says in the chorus; "You're laughing out loud at the thought of being alive...and I was wonderin' - could I just be you tonight?" Because that's what it's like for me. I just want to be someone else. SomeWHERE else. Anywhere but here in this deep, dark pit. Here are the ly...

I'll carry on with my blogging about Sunday but I wanted to write about the cup of tea on its own. Somehow it's really special to me. I went to the service and it struck me that singing is my heart. It really is. Because even when I'm at the bottom of a dark, deep pit - as I am and have been for months, I still really love to sing. It was hard on Sunday. Harder than it's been in years - to sing to God. But I did it and as I did, tears coursed down my face and my heart broke again and again at how hard all of this is. And this is so incredibly hard. And it hurts so much. You have no idea. I could never explain. But I sang. And it was a healing process. A little bit of me...felt comforted by it. Pastor Geoff/Jeff (?) must have been especially anointed that morning because he made a big point of praying "for anyone who needs it - anyone discouraged/feeling overwhelmed - just put your hand in the air and we'll come around you and pray for you" ...

I didn't want to go to Church on Sunday morning. When I'm happy, well and have had a great week - it's hard to leave the warmth of our bed and home and give up that precious time with Alun where we can talk and cuddle to instead go out into the world and go to Church. So going when I am gripping onto life with shaking hands and feel severely depressed - well, it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I think that's what it's like with depression - everything - EVERYTHING - becomes tremendously difficult. Brushing teeth - too hard. I've not brushed mine in days. My extensions are matted, sticky and weird because I've not showered or washed my hair in days. I smell. I look God-awful. I DON'T CARE. Anyway. Back to Sunday. I'd decided to just stay home. Alun was asleep and I found such a peace and such a comfort in watching his handsome face resting. His chest moving up and down with each breath. I know it sounds really corn...