It Doesn’t Seem to get Easier 

I was supposed to go to a depression workgroup today. My therapist recommended it. I showed up and it was 32 women and myself. The room was overcrowded and a disorganized and bored looking women starting explaining a 10 week class with homework and worksheets and all sorts of stuff. I felt stifled and uncomfortable.

After the introduction she gave some alternatives and let some people leave. I took the alternative. I’m going to try a six session class and see if that’s a little more palatable. I think it’s an okay compromise and I’m can’t imagine it’s worse.

Each day I’m struck with how things don’t seem easier. I seem to get heavier (emotionally) my workouts have been more difficult, it may have something to do with my medication.  I felt such an uplift after I finally heard something from Carrie that for a few days I was so happy not to be going insane that even the bad news I received still was a relief.

Now the further reality sets in. God I miss her. I see her face, I smell her. I pat the bed where she should be. I’m constantly afraid that she will forget me, replace me, move on. I love her deeply and I have had to realize that my hurtful actions struck her more than I ever imagined. I question whether or not I even deserve her. But I do want to become the person that deserves her.

Every day I’m filled with doubt, every day I’m scared. I don’t know how much of a life like this I can stand. I tell myself I have to be strong. Start acting like that person that I need to be someday.