My Depression and Friendships…

I recently reconnected with an old friend and we had an outing for the first time since today. As I was sitting, talking with her it made me reflect on my relationships with my friends and how my depression has occasionally caused rifts along the way.

Just about every single true friendship I have has had a falling out at some point. Sometimes it was months, others years. I’m not blaming it solely on my depression, I am at fault more often then not, but looking back I see how the timing of the fights were coinciding with my being in the pits of that brokenness.

See when it hits me hard, I break. I start to immediately put up the walls and shut down internally. On the outside though, I seem put together. I’m not sure why but the more broken I am the more I need my outward appearance to seek perfection. Contradictory as it may be, I guess it gives me some sense of control. When I am striving to keep this perceived perfection though, I am completely broken.

This has caused some issues along the way. I go into the mode of striving for perfection all the while feeling completely imperfect. My mind tells me those around me couldn’t possibly like, let alone love the true me. The me that is broken. I don’t necessarily believe they’d be better off but I do believe they deserve anyone who is not me, because anyone would be better than the me I don’t let people see. So I push them away. I sabotage the friendships in one way or another. Not completely intentionally but I know it hurts. in my quest to save them from nothing that is my existence I have to hurt them. It’s not always a grand fight. Sometimes it’s just little things that build to the point where they finally leave and sometimes I step away and won’t let them back in because I need to hurt without them.

I’ve been lucky, though. Somehow and for some reason they always eventually see through my façade and accept me back and we can jump back in like nothing every happened.  There is a long period in between though and I tend to start thinking they got smart and let me go but it always seems like just when I need them, they reach out somehow.

Now, not all of my friendships have been through this. The closest of close ones have suffered this fate, unfortunately. I guess it’s my sense of not being able to be vulnerable enough to truly let them see me, and once it starts to happen I go into fight or flight mode to survive. It sucks I bring them down with me for a while though. I’ve always felt I’m not good at this friendship thing but I guess there’s something worth being my friend for.

Anyway, thanks my loves for always coming back to me. I know sometimes it’s difficult to love me.

12 years

12 years I’ve grown from being a kid myself
12 years I’ve screwed up
12 years I’ve learned
12 years I’ve cared for another human being
12 years I’ve sacrificed
12 years I’ve fought for someone other than myself
12 years I’ve put myself last
12 years I’ve worried
12 years I’ve cried tears of joy and tears of sadness
12 years I’ve been scared
12 years I’ve had my heart walk around outside my body
12 years I’ve loved unconditionally a tiny person before I ever met them

12 years I’ve been a mom

Happy Momversary to me but more importantly….

Happy Birthday My Darling K!

Shout out to my husband

I have to give him a shout out.

He’s been here for me through the ups and downs and the highs and lows.

He reads the articles I send him that describe my mental illness more fluidly than I ever could. He is willing to learn everything he can to be better for me when I need him.

Even though I usually don’t openly come to him. I tend to take my emotional pain and struggle out on him. I internalize.

Still, he is there. He recognizes. He bugs me until I open up even just a little.

Yesterday I wasn’t feeling well. I wasn’t sick but I’m still learning what foods I can handle since my gallbladder removal and the food I ate the day before was not one of them. Well, I was not eating. I was acting uninterested in eating and I was being kind of mopey.

He offered me food. He offered to make or go to town to get me food. He offered to share his food. I refused. He became concerned. He asked if I was feeling down and depressed and maybe that was why I was feeling funky.

I cleared it up that it was just tummy troubles and everything was well currently. He still set me up in bed to relax and binge watch my show and not be bothered, just in case.

I really don’t give this man enough credit.