BRUTAL

I must share with you the good times and the bad. How quickly mental illness can take it's ugly hold upon us! I forgot.  To know that you are there listening helps me, I need you now.  I have fallen. My eagle cannot fly and it saddens me. I cannot stop crying.
My Rosie is not just by my side but has her head constantly on my lap. She tries to make me laugh by picking up socks and throwing them up in the air. I roar!

She knows this is a very rough time, Mom is hurting.

I HATE this disease. It steals my life. I feel I have no control. I do not know how long this episode will last. I do know I will not answer the phone or have anyone in my house. I am so ashamed of my house, my appearance, my very being! My body hurts. I cannot get out of bed often. My Rosie alerts and barks, (right in my ear!) till I do get up,,good girl. Our trip to the outside world of the park is all I can handle right now.  I do not want to see anyone or talk to anyone, because I am very ugly.
Selfish? Yes, this disease is selfish. My world right now is of deep despair, my angel Rosie and my computer.

These wolves capture what I feel, I love them so much.  I love animals, they are the innocence of life. I cry for them. They feel, they hurt so bad.  When I see the pain in there eyes, someone hits me in the stomach, hard.

When times are dark, I am trapped, a prison cell cacoon.
So much shame, from where?  Self blame and guilt attacking every breath. I don't know. If not for my son and my Rosie, I would be in hospital. I know that for sure. They are the tiny light of connection, love and hope. I am so tired now and want to sleep, again! If I am not sleepy I will eat everything I can until I am. The binging will stop the tears for awhile. This is brutal.

Thank you so much for listening, it does mean the world to me. The best thing for a very depressed person is just to listen. Do not expect an answer to the phone, it is just to hard to talk, think and even know what to say. Answering the phone is a very scary thing during these times.  A psychiatrist told me when you do this you have a personality disorder, (amongst other symptoms). Whatever. He gave me a book to read. Did not help.   I want to get better. I am just so tired of something that grabs my neck when I least expect it, all through my life.  I am going to hug Rosie, my son and go to sleep.  I love you all and so deeply understand what is behind the everyday face we show to the world.  I have no choice right now but to go with what the demons are enveloping me in. This cacoon of cold, dark, sadness. I cry to hope that a butterfly will soon be free.