Warning, possible swearing ahead

I've been suffering lately. I guess that's the only accurate phrase for it. I keep it all bottled up inside. Letting it out only hurts me and hurts Jason, and most likely the kids too. I'm no stranger to depression. You can't have a life like the one I've lived and not know what the Hell that is.

I feel so damn tired all the time. I want to be curled up in bed, bawling my eyes out and sleeping. It wouldn't solve a damn thing, I KNOW that, however it's my desire at the moment. What the hell do I have to be depressed over? I've got a decent house, a wonderful husband, kids that are pretty damn good. Life looks great. That's the catch, it LOOKS great.

Inside I'm just a ball. And in all honesty, I couldn't even tell you what kind of ball I am. It's all jumbled and mumbled up. I know you all look at this blog and expect to see pics of those darling kids and the house and what not. Those will continue. But so will this. I need to get it out somehow. I can't keep losing it like I have been. Today feels like it's been an absolute waste of my fucking time. And everyone else's too.

Before you even go there, NO I'm NOT going to kill myself. That is the coward's way out. You don't solve a damn thing by just ending it all. You leave behind your old mess, and a new one on top of it.

This has just been one of those times for me where things just keep adding on top of one another. For starters, we actually decided to go with no more babies. I honestly don't believe it will happen. I'm so tired and worn out, I'm not sure I can do another anyway. Now it's just up to Jason to call and schedule the first appt to get the ball rolling on the big V.

I'm pretty sure that one of the oldest friendships I have has ended. It's not surprising to me, I saw it coming. It became all about her. It was what could she get out of it from me. However she just didn't have time for me when I needed her. We had some good times, so I'll choose to remember those and leave it at that.

The biddies are pushing for me to go therapy. Who are the biddies? They used to be our case managers for the services for James. We are in the process of going to a new agency, a pain in the ass in the first place. They really want ME to go to therapy. They feel I can't handle my depression on my own. Part of my problem with therapy is that my therapists always leave. After about 6 or 9 months, they find a better job and off they go, leaving me in the lurch.

They do know of one place in town where the therapists don't leave. The place deals with kids mostly. They will help adults, though only adults who have suffered through childhood sexual assault. Unfortunately, I am one of those adults. I, however, do NOT want to talk about that. I don't want to remember more than what I do. I know I do things that don't make any sense to anyone else, yet they make me feel safe. I don't really want to know why I do those things, what happened to me to make me feel like i NEEDED those things.

My life has not been easy by far. I know the childhood I had greatly influenced the adult I became, that I am still becoming. Jason, bless his heart, has nothing in his life to even begin to relate with mine. He wants to help, he wants to listen, he wants to help me heal, but he has no idea on where to begin.

I feel bad for Jason. I know there are plenty of times where I resent his "perfect" childhood. The mom and dad living in the same house with the three kids. The mom that cooked and was home when he was. He says he was lonely, that I can understand. However, he wasn't alone. He wasn't held responsible for much more than his years dictated he should be. He wasn't in situations where he should have been afraid for his life. He had fears. He was sheltered. Those things created their own idiosyncrasies. Though none of them are on the same plain as mine.

I feel so alone in dealing with all of this. In facing myself. In suffering through this horrid paralyzing depression. I force myself through the steps because I KNOW I have no choice, I must continue on. I have to for our family. I have to make it good and right. I can't let them down because of my own issues.

EVERYONE always says "oh, talk to someone". How do I know that will help? There are no guarentees in life. And what makes that stranger so much more suited to helping me? Because they deal with folks like me every day? Because they went to school to study folks like me? How is that in any way reassuring.

I won't do meds. I don't like the side effects. How is almost falling asleep while driving and not feeling a thing and STILL suffereing through horrid insomnia any better than what I'm going through now on my own. At least I still have the ability to feel and think. The meds make me blank. Completely blank. Or maybe I stop caring because I'm so damn tired, either way, it's not how I want to be.

So where does one go from here? How do I proceed in a way that is healthy for me and my family? How long does it take for one to be ready to go explore the deep dark forest of their past? What happens if I find the Big Bad Wolf? What if the Big Bad Wolf turns out to be myself?