I'm Never Alone
I have been depressed lately. That's no secret. On Tuesday I had a meltdown that left me crying at my desk, suicidal and so exhausted that I didn't know how I was going to make the drive home from work. I put a post in my journal that was not just friends locked, but locked out comments because there are times when it's just too much to hear it from people.
And then the miracles began.
One friend replied to a different post entirely. Several put posts in their own journals. People emailed me. In a bizarre non-coincidence, a man from the Buddhist group to which I belonged when I lived in San Jose, a man whom I loved and respected and who hadn't called me in probably three years, called me out of a clear blue sky. Called me up just to check on me. Reached out to me like a lifeline from the gods, snaked out to snatch me from the quicksand I had found myself in.
And my friends love me this much: many of them shared their own anger and sadness with me, letting me know that I'm not alone and that they believed in me. Several of them pleaded with me to take concrete steps to alleviate my distress, giving me solid suggestions. At least one of my best, oldest and most knowledgable (about me at least) friends pointed out to me the ways in which I had actively participated in my own demise, and told me in the most loving way possible to CUT IT OUT.
I was on the bottom. I was spiraling down the drain, flailing and giving up hope. And one friend grabbed my hand, and another friend grabbed her hand and another friend grabbed his hand and another friend grabbed her hand.
There's room for you in this chain. Here - hold my hand. I am strong enough now to hold you. And if I'm not, all those people holding me ARE. Each of us can take a little more, and together we can help each other into the light where we will all be able to sit down in the warm sun, breathe deeply and rest a little while before we get up and shoulder our burdens again.
Thank you to all my friends. I love you deeply.
And then the miracles began.
One friend replied to a different post entirely. Several put posts in their own journals. People emailed me. In a bizarre non-coincidence, a man from the Buddhist group to which I belonged when I lived in San Jose, a man whom I loved and respected and who hadn't called me in probably three years, called me out of a clear blue sky. Called me up just to check on me. Reached out to me like a lifeline from the gods, snaked out to snatch me from the quicksand I had found myself in.
And my friends love me this much: many of them shared their own anger and sadness with me, letting me know that I'm not alone and that they believed in me. Several of them pleaded with me to take concrete steps to alleviate my distress, giving me solid suggestions. At least one of my best, oldest and most knowledgable (about me at least) friends pointed out to me the ways in which I had actively participated in my own demise, and told me in the most loving way possible to CUT IT OUT.
I was on the bottom. I was spiraling down the drain, flailing and giving up hope. And one friend grabbed my hand, and another friend grabbed her hand and another friend grabbed his hand and another friend grabbed her hand.
There's room for you in this chain. Here - hold my hand. I am strong enough now to hold you. And if I'm not, all those people holding me ARE. Each of us can take a little more, and together we can help each other into the light where we will all be able to sit down in the warm sun, breathe deeply and rest a little while before we get up and shoulder our burdens again.
Thank you to all my friends. I love you deeply.