Just breathe

Sometimes things become too much. Life and all its twists and turns grab at me and I lay down under it and surrender. You know those days… that very minute you open one eye you know in that microsecond it’s going to be one of THOSE DAYS!!!

I woke yesterday and lay there under my nest of blankets, (Yes, I make a nest, it’s made up of three super soft fleece blankets and a crocheted Afghan) these I swaddle round me tight. I don’t have Jesse to hold me, so this is the next best thing. But I’m digressing yet again! Yesterday I just lay there, energy depleted, doing anything seemed like climbing mountains. (I think that really would have been easier than just getting even one leg out of my safe nest.) I wasn’t hungry, thirsty… even going to the bathroom was something I couldn’t bear thinking about. I should have known then (slaps forehead) I was heading fast towards my old friend depression, black dog, screaming blacks, whatever name you give this, it was hurtling at me at the rate of knots. (And try as I may, I couldn’t halt it.)

I wanted to retreat into myself, that place where I can keep the outside at bay. Yes, it’s dark in there and yes, it’s a place that doesn’t do me any favours, as that’s where I relive my past, revisit my self-critic and all those who did a better job of it for me. But Jesse was there for me and no one gets me better. He’s watched me go through every kind of mood and then some. He has said in the past he has had difficulty reaching me when I go too deep, but his soft voice reaches into the swirling dark mists and pulls me back from the brink.

I spent the day just getting by. I knew I was on the brink, the precipice of that blackness taking me over me. I fought it hard, (Keeping my eyes on my love’s face throughout the day, this guy is my strength, my inspiration) but try as I may that black dog nipped at my heels.

I lay on my bed letting exhaustion overtake me. Not only exhaustion, but this deep sadness, this pain that burnt… seared through to my marrow, my soul (the pain of missing the one you love).

Halfway through the day I thought of poor Jesse looking at this freaky mess, even if was only on video chat. So tentatively I put one leg out from under my blanket nest. (And put it right back in there again, too!) But after several futile attempts I did eventually manage to sit on the side of the bed. (For those with depression, you’ll get the effort needed I do this.)  From there I grabbed my phone with my beloved sitting there working away in his office, and finally managed it down to the bathroom where I successfully brushed my teeth, showered and put on clean PJs.

I sat down with my son for ten minutes for a quick chat to get my breath back… it really did take that much out of me. When I got back upstairs, I lay back on my bed. Everything was just too much effort. I wanted, no, NEEDED to go to the shop to buy groceries having nothing in to eat. But that required dressing, people, and going out doing things like walking. Now, when going to the bathroom and back is like a trek up Kilimanjaro, imagine going to the shop. No, I just couldn’t. It seemed like a step too far. (You might as well have asked me to go to the moon.)

So, there I lay till dinner time. I wasn’t hungry anyway so why worry. Dinnertime I had the talk with myself: “Theresa, you need fuel if nothing else. Eat to replenish lost energy.” (Thank goodness I listened to myself. I don’t always.)

I started the long trek down the stairs again in search of supplies or something, anything to eat. I finally hunted down a stray tin of tomato soup. It was easy prey and I love it. (Good comfort food.) This and some rice cakes I took back to my nest and forced it down. Now, if you know me, you will know I adore food. (Jesse will attest to this. He’s seen me scarf down a bowl of his chilli quicker than the land speed record.) When I can’t be bothered to eat, you know then I’m on shutdown. (This is as bad as my depression gets.) I no longer want anything to do with the outside world.

Jesse was there and I did chat with him off and on. (He’s my darling. how could I not!) But as the evening drew to a close, I felt myself slip further down into the blackness. I just wanted Jesse, wanted him to hold me, rock me in his arms tell me it was going to be ok! I WAS going to be ok.

The blackness threatened to swallow me. And do you know what? I really didn’t care. I wanted to lay under its familiarity, let it take my where it would. I wanted to surrender… wave that white flag above the darkness that I could no longer see my way out of. Yesterday, I knew all I was capable of was just breathing. And that’s no minor feat when every little thing exhausts you… when your mind is crying out for you to go to sleep and never wake up. I flippantly say JUST! But yesterday breathing took all I had. And it was only my love of Jesse that made me do that, hence the title of this. Today, again on waking, I lay ensconced in my soft nest and even opening my eyes felt an overwhelming effort, never mind getting up.

Like I do on shutdown, I lay there just staring at a section of wall. (I know that piece of wall very well now, folks.) A voice penetrated the fog.

“You ok honey?”

I nodded that I was, one of the only times I’ve lied to Jesse, because I was far from alright.

I was about as far from alright as I could get. I could see no chink of light. I couldn’t find my way out of the darkness that smothered me. I turned off the brightly coloured fairy lights that are on my brass bedstead and let the tears slide down my face. Again, all I wanted was Jesse. I could see him. I could hear that voice that soothes, but I needed contact. I needed to bury my head in his chest… smell that woody, earthy fragrance of his cologne… take a moment’s comfort there. I needed him more than ever.

Now Jesse knows when I lay in the dark (which I’m phobic of, by the way) I’m in trouble deep. Again, his hushed calm voice breaks into my solitude.

“Honey… you ok?”

I know I can’t lie again. I hate lies, even from me. I eventually say “No! No, I’m not ok. I’m far from ok. Inside, my head’s screaming. I’m in pain, the most dreadful pain. Each breath without you here or me there is hellish. I don’t want to breathe. This is what’s going through my head. But what I actually say is a scaled down version. I can feel Jesse’s frustration as all he wants is for me to hold me together, while he fights away valiantly to get our Border Patrol case heard… get me back with him forever. He knows I struggle daily with demons in my head and just getting by, sometimes, is all I can contribute. Today I look into his warm soft brown eyes and say the words every lover dreads: “Honey, this is too hard! Life without you is just too hard for me to cope with. I’m not sure I can keep going. I’m in too much pain.”

He looks at me with an honesty that breaks through to me. “Then lie down, rest a while and I’ll carry you in my back if need be.” And I knew what he meant. I understood. But by him giving me permission to just lay there and get my head straight, it was all I needed. By 2pm I had dragged my sorry butt out of my warm nest, washed and taken myself to my second home: Bramley bites. I know I’ve not the money to indulge this whim, but sometimes you must invest a little in your well-being. There I can sit and, if I want to be alone, they get this. They somehow get me. But if they think I need bringing out of myself, then these are the folks to do that very thing. And they do it so very well. Sometimes I wear my mask, that mask I use to hide the deep sadness depression that lurks within, but today within minutes I had strong coffee and good company. We chatted for half an hour and, whether it was the caffeine intake, the company or just the daylight reaching my eyes, I felt better. Now I know I’ve still a way to go on my recovery path, as I’ve not eaten yet and I still feel that sadness, but I managed to actually do a little shopping.

I’m not ready yet to join the living, do peopling of any kind, but thanks to my love and two very special ladies at Bramley’s I can breathe that bit easier. Today I’m not only breathing but ready to work on getting myself out the darkness.