well, not really, but i was there a lot over the summer and into the fall.
in july i made this pen-and-ink-and-colored-pencil sketch of the Flyingfishers' front door. the text reads:
let blessings fall upon this house
and all within it dwell;
please give to them good fortune
keep them happy, whole, and well.
in the morning i went to church at the west lebanon congo, where they were very nice and i was shy about it, but i told them that i have been sick for a long time and that i could use their prayers. they were very generous.
and i meant to go do some light geocaching in the afternoon, but when i got back to the Flyingfishers, it was all i could do to change back into my pjs and get in bed. i think i slept until about three-thirty, and then i meant to do some caching on the way home, but i just couldn't get it all together.
and i felt prettty good, really, almost like a habit and then it hit me like, well, i don't know. it's kind of like the same death-dealing depression and i'm sick of fighting it, sick of having every action, every move i make be a purposeful thing i do to stay out of it and i realize that i'm tired.
i'm tired of, well, i'm just tired. and now i'm crying. i'll probably hold it together long enough to get to bed. that's what i'm doing now: holding it together.
everything sucks.
1 comment:
Oh, Pamela.
everything sure does suck sometimes. but I'm clinging to the fact that it will not always suck so. which of course you already know, but i need to tell you anyway just in case at some point another's perspective is relevant.
crying and saying everything sucks and you're sick of the terrible agony of depression is all so much better than saying you want to end it. and maybe you did want to, but you still successfully (even if only for the duration of this post) redirected yourself to crying and saying everything sucks and you're sick of being depressed. i think that's a lovely bit of progress.
i am praying for recollections of the specifics of my own early steps away from suicidal thinking, in hopes God will remind me of some nugget that will be helpful for you.
I read some of your links to past posts. for one, you've got The Eye. Cool photos. I want to see more. for another, I wish to state for the record that in my experience God takes quite seriously those "and when do I get to have a dog" conversations. It took twenty years, but he finally gave me one last summer. Her name (ironically for you?) is Bobbie and she's a now 3-y.o. German Shepherd. She lived her first two years with people who didn't have the sense to feed her regularly, much less to teach her helpful commands like "sit" or "quit that infernal jumping." (She learned the first within a week. We're still working on controlling #2 in high-intensity situations.) I rescued her by answering a "free German Shepherd" ad in the paper. I had to respond, because in twenty years of fantasizing (and praying) over the dog ads, I had never seen a Shepherd offered for free. That's a heckuva lot of smart dog to give away. One of these days I'm going to get around to posting a photo of her on my own blog and then I'll invite you. you can come now, just there's not much there yet. xanga.com/dmccoyd
everything that is there was inspired by you.
Post a Comment