God makes beauty from ashes

Wow. A lot of blogging from me today. I guess a part of me knows this will end soon. I won't be here much longer so I'm trying to get out as much as I can before it all stops. The other side of my blogging is that I need you. When you text me, message me or maybe even call me to tell me "Hang ON, Janet" "Don't give up" "You mean something to me, please don't leave us yet" It means the absolute WORLD to me. When a friend reaches out and messages me: "No need to reply at all, just want you to know I'm thinking of you" or "Hey, just want to remind you I love you" or "You can do this, I believe in you" They save my life. And I go through 24 hours a day of wanting to die...so those texts, they are like little sparks of hope in my life that keep me going for another hour. My friend Christabel doesn't understand it "Why do you need other people to tell you you're awesome"? I don

Alun and I spent the last 2 days at home together...moving like zombies and not really speaking...but holding hands the entire time as if we are both trying desperately to stay linked even though we seem suspended in limbo. I'm a talker, you know that. I want to talk about it with Alun because I know there are some HUGE inaccuracies in the way we both see things. My fear is that Alun's put me in a 'too hard' box. I worry he's labelled me "mental" and doesn't trust me with anything and hasn't for the past year. I worry he doesn't think my opinion is worth anything and I worry he sees me as some "poor nutcase" who can't be talked to and just needs to be fed, mostly ignored and placated. I'm not that person. I'm severely depressed, I admit that. I am mental, I own that. But I'm not entirely useless. I'm not some crazy, worthless girl that Alun can't trust or talk to. If that's the way he sees me, t

Yesterday was the worst day of my life. I have never wanted to die more in my entire 43 years. I rang "Lifeline" for help and someone kind there talked me off the ledge and into bed for a much needed sleep. I feel like my head is caving in and my heart is completely shattered. Everything I believed in or thought I knew...has crumbled to dust in my very hands and I don't know how to cope. I spent a lot of the day yesterday on auto pilot. The gravity of another divorce  (for fucks' sake, Janet!!!) weighed on me like a tonne of bricks on my head. Alun and I called each other probably about 20 times yesterday, each phone call filled with hatred, accusation, threats and awful, hurtful words we can probably never take back. All I wanted was Alun home so we could talk. In my mind on the train home this morning (I spent the night before last night at Jacker's house), I pictured walking into the front door. Alun would be there - MY Alun - not the drunk, sad,

I'm hanging onto life with my very fingertips. I feel like my life is the edge of a cliff and the sea is 100 meters below me...and I'm hanging on with my very fingertips, trying not to let go. I'm looking down at the waves crashing below and it's tempting to just let go. My arms are so tired, guys. It's easier to just give up. I tried to fight it for a long, long time...since last August so almost a year ago...and I can't anymore. I can't. This depression is going to end me, you guys. Here's what I'm doing to try to fight it: I get up out of bed every day. This is extremely hard. I set myself ONE task every day. Today it was to do the weeding. I only did 20-35 minutes of it but at least I did something. Today I showered. For someone with depression, that's a pretty big deal. It took everything I had . I take my anti-depressants every day. I was going on a walk every day - 30 minutes - but I'm struggling now to leave t

After a long day at work, I've rushed home to write this blog because I need to let you know that Alun is the best person I know. Truly. He is suffering from his own depression because he's going through some very heavy things these last 6-12 months: - Alun has patients that die over and over when he's at work. Alun loves deeply, so he takes their passing away to heart and he grieves over ever patient as if they were a friend. I can't imagine how incredibly dark and painful that must be for him. But he still goes to work. He still tries so hard and he still loves with all his heart, no matter how much it gets broken at work. - Alun's wife (me) is a complete psycho. Dealing with that on the daily can't be good for anyone. - Alun's dear friend and fellow Rugby player died a month ago. When she was diagnosed with untreatable, incurable cancer that was going to kill her completely in a matter of weeks, Alun's heart shattered into a million pieces. So

I'm falling completely apart. What makes this worse is that it's happening to Alun at the same time. He was drunk a few nights ago and that's when he opens up. Alun said he was going to steal anti depressants (just random ones) from the hospital and start taking them. This is all kinds of wrong. (Yes, the stealing is wrong but that's the least of my worries when Alun said that). MY concerns are that: 1) Alun feels depressed. This is a big deal! I need to help my husband. 2) Alun is depressed enough to consider taking medication. All kinds of alarms going off in my mind and heart. 3) He can't just decide on his own to take random anti depressants - they could do a world of harm to him and if he develops a dependance on his own and doesn't have support...what happens then? I asked Alun to seek out proper Medical advice and support. He shut me down totally. End of discussion. So I'm at home wondering if my husband is walking around with random d