Day Twenty-two: Old Face, New Place, Same Old Struggle

Time marches on and, unfortunately, the darkness of my depression has gotten in many ways worse. After my last meeting with Pendragon at his Green Tree office, I feel a bit less nervous about his leaving that group, although there is still a part of me that is apprehensive about how this is going to work now that he's going out on his own. One thing that helps is that he has given me his new business card and on it is his phone number and not only can I call, but I can text him! That will make it much easier to get in contact with him if I need to set up an appointment or if things get really bad and I need to talk.

Speaking of bad, things have been really bad today. Actually, more than bad. I have been struggling with a lot of suicidal thoughts in the past week. The fact that I am not really sleeping well isn't helping. I have had horrible nightmares about being at Pine View almost every night since I got home. Most nights I get less than five hours of sleep because I have become so anxious about closing my eyes that I stay up until 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning before finally succumbing to my body's need for rest. I wake up feeling not only sleep deprived from lack of quantity but also from a lack of quality sleep and feel as though I am barely able to stay awake or do anything at all. Our older two girls are back in school and I am so tired that Gray is the one getting them ready for and driving them to school. He even takes GB along so that I can get a few extra winks while they are gone. Once he leaves for work, it is just me and GB. Most of my day is spent with my head in a cup of coffee, watching TV, or wasting time on Facebook or the internet simply because I lack the energy for much else.

I have come to a point where I don't think I can keep going. The pills I got rid of a month ago are gone, but there are some others that would most likely be lethal if combined with each other and some alcohol. That has been in my head all week. I have been in touch with Pendragon this week but only about insurance issues and when he is going to be starting in his new place. I have been silent about what is going on with me. I have been silent with everyone about what I'm feeling and thinking. It is so hard to say these words out loud. You would think after everything I have been through because of similar feelings that I would at least feel comfortable telling Gray or Sif, but I can't bear to see the worry on their faces. Today has been especially hard. I have had no appetite for the past week and have barely eaten more than a small meal each day, if that. I've had a couple of days where I haven't eaten at all. I have only been out of the house for Mass on Sunday morning and choir practice which began anew this last Wednesday.

The only person I have been talking to about any of this has been Chez. He has been encouraging me to put one foot in front of the other, take things day by day, and he keeps telling me I need to get out and be around real friends. Chez told me today that I need to talk to Gray. He has told me this before, but today was different. Today he was much more emphatic about it. He told me that I need to be telling Gray all of this and not someone who is so very far away. I know he is right, but I cannot seem to make myself tell Gray how badly this hurts, how very much I just want it to end, and that I have absolutely no hope that it will ever end. I don't want to see the look in Gray's eyes when I tell him that I want to end my own life. He knows I have struggled with this before, but I think he believes it is at least a little better now that I've finished the partial hospitalisation program. Oh how I wish it was! I have not agreed to tell Gray, but I did tell Chez I would contact Pendragon.

I have an appointment with Pendragon in his new digs tonight. This is a new thing too. I've never had an appointment with him after 4:00pm, but with his private practice, he has more freedom to offer appointments in the evenings and even on Saturdays. I am struggling with wanting to actually go because I know I will have to be completely honest with him. I will have to tell him what I am thinking and what I have planned. I don't know that I can do it. I am so tired of feeling like this. I am tired of being constantly tired. I am tired of the nightmares. I am tired of not being able to even hear the word "hospital" without feeling like crawling into a hole and hiding. I have talked with Pendragon some about my experience, but I just cannot let it go. I see it over and over again in my dreams and I live in fear of having another moment like two months ago when I lose touch with reality and being sent back to a place like that. I just don't think I can face it.

As I get ready to leave for my appointment, I make my final decision. I will not tell Pendragon. Even though this is an emergency kind of appointment and not one that we've had scheduled for a while, I just don't think I can tell him. I get dressed and tuck an envelope of pills into my purse. I will do it after my appointment. I won't stand Pendragon up. I owe him at least that. When Gray comes in, my heart twists in anguish at the sight of him, but I know in the end, he will be better off without me. I embrace and kiss all three of our girls and it is all I can do to let them go. I stroke their hair and kiss the cheeks and tell each of them that I love them while hugging them tight. My sweet biggest girl, M2, looks up at me, concern in her face and says, "What's wrong, Momma?" I tell her nothing, that I just love her lots, that I love them all lots. She smiles, reassured, and says, "I love you too, Momma" and with one last hug, goes bounding off, her long blonde hair bouncing behind her as she heads upstairs.

Gray gives me a concerned look too. I think he knows that I wasn't quite truthful with M2. He says, "You okay hon?" as we embrace by the door. I nod and say that I'm just tired and have a lot of my mind. Both of these are true, but as with M2, I am not telling him the whole truth. I cannot bear to say goodbye. I love him so much, but I am in such pain and I cannot see how this will ever get better. It is better this way. I know this will hurt him and all of them, but it will be better for all of them in the end. I am useless to them this way. Gray deserves better than a broken wife who can never be fixed. Oh God, please forgive me and please stay close to them. We hug each other tight and kiss farewell. I press the kiss a bit longer than I normally would and when we part, Gray asks me again, "You sure you're okay?" I am sure that my face is probably telegraphing everything that is going through my head, but I assure him that while I'm not okay, that I will be once I've talked to Pendragon. He nods and touches my cheek, looking into my eyes, "Be careful driving, okay? I love you." I say that I will, that I love him too, and with great difficulty, I walk out the door.

****

 

After a short drive, I arrive at Pendragon's new office and go inside. It is a tiny reception area in a small office that appears to have about two or three offices for different therapists. Almost immediately, Pendragon sticks his head out of an open doorway and says, "Hey, come on in." I follow him into the office and he shuts the door. As I sit down, I take a good look at him and realise, he looks different. He's totally rocking some dad jeans and a polo and he looks more relaxed than I think I've ever seen him. I am glad. We take care of some housekeeping stuff, paperwork and the like and he observes that I am his very first private practice client. I am not sure whether to feel honoured or pathetic that I need his help so much. With the way I have been feeling, pathetic wins the day. Eventually, we get around to why I contacted him. It is not easy and I find that my tongue is stilled almost suddenly when the subject of my depression comes up. Despite my initial smile and our ease of small talk that I am struggling with an oppressive darkness that makes me reticent and desirous of hiding and withdrawing into myself.

We talk around the subject of suicide for a good hour or so before it eventually comes out. The weight of it is so heavy on me that I can feel it in my shoulders, neck, and chest and I almost crumple physically beneath it as the confession spills forth amidst sobs and sniffles. I don't want to walk down this road again. I am scared. I tell him that I don't think I can do it anymore and that I am tired of putting one foot in front of the other and moving along at a crawl that is going nowhere except deeper into this black pit. I tell him that I feel worthless and useless and that all of this hurts so much that I just want it to end. We talk through things and he offers me perspective and somehow, in all of the talking, some of the weight eases a bit and my breathing becomes easier too. He asks me all the pertinent questions to assess risk and where I am at in my thinking. Although I came to the session intending to withhold my plans and not tell him what I was going to do upon leaving, when he asks about whether or not I have a plan, I find myself saying "yes" before I can stop myself. He asks about means and a fresh wave of tears assaults me. After crying for a moment, I confess that I have my means with me. He asks what I am planning to do with them.

Any resolve I had to stay silent has long since vanished and I am truthful, but tell him that while I had planned to leave his office and end things, that I think I don't want to keep those means anymore and I want to get rid of them. I am still struggling with deep depression and even some thoughts of suicide but the intensity has lessened to the point that I feel more able to put one foot in front of the other and try to live another day. I return to my car and get my pills and he stands at the door of the little bathroom in his office and silently supports me as I flush them all down. My hands shake the entire time and after it is done, there is a part of me that immediately chastises the rest of me for getting rid of them because now I no longer have such an easy and lethal way out. I shake off that feeling and we head back to his office to wrap things up. We set up an appointment for next Thursday, a week away, and he says he will call me tomorrow to check in with me since we had a crisis session tonight. He walks me out and waits until I am safely in my car as it is much darker now and more difficult to see thanks to a lack of outdoor lighting in the parking lot.

I start to turn out of the parking lot in the direction that will lead me toward home and change my mind at the last moment. I turn the other way and make my way to a local Catholic parish that has a Perpetual Adoration Chapel that is open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with the Blessed Sacrament of Our Lord Jesus exposed in a monstrance for adoration. I don't really know why I am going, but that I feel compelled to do so. I enter the chapel, bless myself with holy water and genuflect as I enter one of the pews that faces the altar. I kneel on the kneeler before Jesus and try to pray. I gaze up at Him in the Blessed Sacrament and the awe that normally fills me to be so close to my Lord and Saviour is heartbreakingly absent. I know that He is here and standing before me in the consecrated host, but I feel nothing of His presence. I kneel quietly for a long time, my head in my hands and I cry, begging God to let me feel His presence again, to let me know that He is with me in all of this, that He has not truly abandoned me. But there is nothing. There is only a numb, deadness in my spirit and a deafening silence, punctuated by the odd sound of one of my fellow adorers turning the pages of a prayer book or shifting in her pew. After several minutes of crying quietly, I wipe my eyes and rise from the kneeler to go. I genuflect once more, pausing a bit longer on one knee to send up one last desperate prayer and after marking myself with the sign of the cross once more, I leave the chapel and make my way home.