DancingMermaid » moving on

moving on

hello dear friends.

i cannot find a witty or poignant way
to say what i want to say here today,
so i am just going to blurt it out
and be done with it-

i have been struggling with depression
for months,
and i am really, really tired of downplaying it.

i am sick of dancing around the subject,
and i am mad at myself for letting this manifest as such a shame issue.

i am also really hesitant to write about it here
because i am already in a fragile state of mind
and i don’t know if my body can withhold any negative comments-
like i just might break in two if i get judged or criticized in any way.

on the other hand though-

i have grown to love and trust my little tribe of readers,
and not only do i want to shed this secret that had taken hostage of my heart,
but maybe someone else can relate and be comforted by my words…
someone who thought it was just them.
this would give my pain purpose.

so here is my story:

i have struggled with depression my whole life.
i was about 19 when i went to therapy and discovered,
“oh, you mean everyone does not feel this way?”

since i was little i have felt things very deeply,
which i am sure is part of the issue.
in kindergarten, my best friend lived in a trailer park.
my mom casually said once that her family was “poor.”

i remember bawling my eyes out that night
because i thought she did not have enough food.
the next day i gave her my whole sandwich and when she asked why i said,
“because you are POOR!”
to this day i am horrified at what that must have done to a six year old,
not to mention what her mom must have thought.
i just started taking in others pain,
because i did not know how else to be.

i briefly went on meds two times in my 20s…

the first time at the request of a therapist
(i did not feel depressed at the time, which is alarming)
and the second time at my request,
because things were bad to the point where the only thing
i would look forward to each day was 5 o’clock so i could go home and cry.
it was a bad break-up, and a bad new job, and a bad everything
and my body just said “i give up.”
thankfully, the meds kicked in right away.
i was able to stay on them a few months
and then comfortably stop them when things got better.

the third time was 4 years ago,
when i just was not functioning after my dad passed
and i pretty much started sabotaging every decent thing in my life.

i was in therapy and doing literally everything i could think of
to feel better and nothing seemed to work.
it was a hard, hard decision for me to go on it that time.

i truly felt like i had failed at something,
but,
my desire to feel better and have friends and a happy life
was stronger so i went on them again.

like the times before,
things got better…
even fun.
(in fact, maybe even too fun, when they say do not mix those drugs with alcohol they are not kidding.)

anyway, time passed…
i calmed down,
met the boy of dreams,
moved into his magic cottage
and prepared to live happily ever after.
i went off the meds.
it took 3 months.
things were looking ok and i felt happy and peaceful.
then i got sick.

my tummy started hurting every day.
i could not work.
i could not eat.
my body went down to a 100 pounds
and i spent my days in bed watching old oc epsidoes
worried that i was going to die of some strange, exotic disease.
i even went BACK on the meds to see if that was the cause of it,
but after not improving after being back on them a month,
i stopped again.

oh yeah,
and my favorite aunt died.
so i guess i stopped caring in a lot of ways.
i just wanted to be left alone to be with my darkness.

since then, my health is very slowly improving…
however-slow to the point that i have had to rearrange my life in some ways.
i have stopped making plans,
because it was too much pressure to keep them.

i also started getting overwhelmed with advice on how to get better
and i felt way too exposed, and for the first time in my life i became guarded.
more than once someone asked me,
(in the same tone as if they were asking who my hairdresser was)
“are you sure you don’t have a tumor or cancer?”
and
“hey are you eating?”
or my personal favorite,
“you look really bad at that weight.”

you would think that someone like me,
who has struggled with body image
since i was 10,
would enjoy these kind of remarks in a sick way kind of way
but it was just the opposite.

i felt like shit
and the unwanted attention that my body was suddenly
getting was uncomfortable.
no normal woman enjoys being looked up and down…
especially when you are not feeling your prettiest.

(if i knew to incorporate sound with this blog
i would insert a sad violin at this point in the story.)

i have a great boyfriend.
i have people who love me.
but this did not stop the depression from coming back.
it is kind if a bully in that way,
just a big, fat, manipulative, controlling meanie.

depression is so different for everyone.
i am not completely certain that mine is even full blown depression-
but i know i have many traces of it.

i know that when my body gets overloaded
with stress after stress it kinda shuts down
instead of putting up a good fight.

i know that lying around for 6 months
because you don’t feel physically great
is going to make anyone feel crappy after awhile.

i know being a social person who thrives
on connecting with others
is bound to get in the dumps when those connections dwindle
down to practically nothing.

in some ways.
i feel like i have grown heaps inside
and am proud that i am no longer the girl that
tries to solve everyone elses problems.

in other ways,
i feel angry at myself
for losing these other important parts of me
and now i am not sure to get them back.

where is my magic?

for me,

the best way i can describe this bout of depression
is a large, heavy stone that gets thrown at me a few times a week.
it is not like i feel awful all the time,
but when it hits-
i go down. i go down fast.
and i have gone down so much
these past 6 or 7 months
that i am having a hell of a time pulling myself back up.

reaching out feels really, really hard…
and although there are many great things going on in my life,
i cannot deny that losing these key, connecting parts of myself have been devastating.

i gently request
that no advice be given…

being on and off meds is an extremly touchy subject
as i am sure it is for many.
i am not judging anyone who has been down this road
and i would appreciate that same kindness in return.
we all do what we gotta do,
and what we do changes from time to time.

i am still finding my path to mental wellness
and exploring the different options that are out there.

what i am craving most is
your personal stories
(feel free to email them too)
with life changes and the toll it takes on one’s body
and of course, the depression.

and as always,
support and love are always welcome too.

this is my first official step
in breaking free of this space that is no longer serving me.

i am allowing the tears to roll
as i let go of my ego and admit….

i need help.

115 Comments so far
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you are loved. very very much. we should talk soon? email me? bless your beautiful soul.

I admire and appreciate your sharing of the true, hard stuff. And I send love~

((((((((mermielove))))))))

hearing you.

loving you.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

I love you, brave one.

Just holding your hand and allowing ~
Much love,

So many things that you wrote about resonate so deeply with me - and describe what I myself am feeling.
Since college I’ve struggled with depression (although I am just recently admitting that is what it is)…that was 10 years ago.
I really went into a downward spiral when I got married, moved to a new city where I knew no one, left all my family on the other side of the state, and have worked in one difficult and overwhelming job after another.
I’m definitely the girl counting down the clock until 5 when I can get in my car and cry on the commute home…I’ve had health problems that I know are stress related for 2 years…
I have never heard someone describe feeling other people’s pain and carrying it around in themselves as you have ….. and it is exactly what I have done since I was a little girl. I feel that weight around my neck - pushing me down.
I’ve been in and out of therapy for many years - none of it really seems to make an impact.
What makes me so sad is that I have a wonderful husband and I so desperately want to be happy, yet this is deeply affecting my marriage.
I’m sorry I don’t have any encouragement to offer you - but I just wanted to let you know that I think I know exactly how you are feeling. You are certainly not alone.
Blessings to you.

“Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I go to my friends.” ~ Virginia Woolf

(thanks for your trust, mermie)

i love you mccabe.

mccabe,

mermaid,

keep your magic strong..i know you could never lose it. we should have an art date because i miss you, love you very much.

Thank you so much for being honest. I have experienced deep depression and grief for long periods of time. It makes it infinitely worse if we don’t feel like we can honestly share our life. So I’m responding to that part of what you said - the wanting to say how it is, just how it is, and cheer you on. I started reading your blog some months ago because of your post asking readers to just say how things are, without any adornment. I was impressed with you, and have been reading since. I hope you feel better soon.

The weight–I feel it sometimes. I know just what you are talking about. It comes, oftentimes, out of the blue, or so it seems and it knocks you on your ass. You are not alone. Thank you for sharing.

I am usually a lurker here, but I wanted to come out of the woodwork to say thank you. I needed to read this today, I needed to see someone be brave and admit how hard this freakin disease is. I would love to send you an email, but don’t have your address.

i love you.
i am here.
i am proud of your honesty.

shakti

dancing mermie ~ lovely lady ~ beauty-full soul … I love you heaps! Skwishy hugs and smooches for you…

the braveness and beauty of your writing is a gift to all of us. thank you. it took me a long time to find the courage to talk to a therapist. i have so much respect for your strength and admiration for your lovely way with words.
take care,
amy

What makes me sad, for you, and others who suffer this, is the shame so often associated with depression. People don’t feel that kind of shame when they have other diseases. People don’t feel the same shame when they have heart disease, or diabetes, for example. They see those as just a medical condition, and they seek help for it. Depression is a medical condition, a very common one at that, but it brings up shame for so many, and that makes me sad

Just because it is something that affects your mind instead of your heart, for example, doesn’t make it less of something you need to treat and take care of (however that is for you).

I admire your honesty. I am someone who has a hard time saying I need help, so I honor your bravery in doing that here.

I can relate a little to health affecting your life in a way that you can’t always get out, make or keep plans. I have two serious food allergies that I am still learning about and I end up canceling or bailing on a lot of plans because I get sick. It sucks, and when you are already struggling, that makes it harder.

Sending much love to you. Thank you for continuing to share your story. Your honesty about yourself is always beautiful, especially when you tackle the toughest things.

Hey, Girly ~

I was thinking about you yesterday…
wondered what you were up to…thinking that I love your marvelous self…I miss your shine…hoping that I’ll see you soon and make you snort~laugh…I’m sorry it’s so hard right now ~

So much love to you,

Hi
I have started reading your blog recently and have never commented, I just never know when to jump in. I just wanted you to know that your kindness, caring, sensitivity and character shines through your writing and photos. I really think that your amazing and couragous to share your fears. I think that it is a good thing for you to do. It seems to me like if you hold it in, things can get worse. One thing I have noticed is that you really do care for others and that is part of your magic. My heart is with you.

“Your pain is the medicine by which the physician within heals thyself.” - Gibran

The grace and beauty of your words speak truth which requires great courage. I love you sweetie.

I’m here for you.

At first, when I saw the title, moving on, I thought, oh no, please don’t let her close down, I’ve just found her and her words…

I’ve been in and out of therapy most of my adult life - the times I go back are the times that I need to rework the tools I’ve got, the tools that help me cope and get thru my days.

I admire you being able to speak what’s in your heart, you are not alone.

I’m one that feels things physically and when I’m not balanced, my body lets me know. I’m sensitive inside and out and finally, I’m beginning to understand that. At 43 and counting, I’m just beginning but better late than never.

Lovely gentle mermaid mccabe…
I sit here, listening to you
I extend my arms and wrap you
in the rose light of Compassion
Remember that you are so, so deeply loved
But say the word
And I will move heaven & earth
To be with you. —

hi mccabe,
i’m a new (but loyal) reader. i also struggle with depression. i really admire your courage in admitting all of this to the world. it’s definitely going to be the first step toward getting better….

best wishes,
samin

An email is on its way.

Love to you xox

Oh - I feel as thought there was a reason why I found my way here this past week. My recent story is mostly on my blog. I’ve had experience of depression before and last year I had acute traumatic stress response which manifested much like depression. The story starts here (http://fridasnotebook.typepad.com/fridas_notebook/2006/11/thank_goodness_.html) with self-medication and then descends through dark months of suffering alone and begins to emerge here (http://fridasnotebook.typepad.com/fridas_notebook/2007/01/400am.html) and here (http://fridasnotebook.typepad.com/fridas_notebook/2007/04/what_i_did_on_m.html) where I finally made it to London where I found someone who could help me.
No advice from me - but a very warm heart reaching out across the many virtual miles to give you all my love and support.
For me reaching out was the beginning of an important shift - I don’t know if it will be for you, but if you want to keep letting us know what we need then I am here.
One thing I know for sure - depression can affect the most compassionate, sensitive, vibrant of us.
Love without judgement can help us through the dark days. Sending you as much as I can fit into this comment box!
xx

Know that I see you, hear you, hold these words with great honor at having been the recipient of such offerings.
I will email very soon.
Until then, know I love you and that you are not alone. You are so not alone.
may you continue to offer such gentleness to yourself brave one.
~bella

I love your blog.
I appreciate your honesty.
I feel your pain.
I see your bravery.
I send you love.

Micheline (a long time reader, but never before a commenter)

brave mccabe,
i hear you. i am holding your words, your journey gently in the light. thank you for being.
so much love, love, love…
gem

I always picture my depression bully as the harpie in The Last Unicorn (do you remember that cartoon?). Scary,ferocious creature! The crazy thing about depression is that it doesn’t seem to matter how full of wonder your life actually is, it just attacks when it wants to attack. A few years ago I was a student midwife, which was admittedly an incredibly stressful lifestyle (especially for a snail-hearted creature like me) but it was also amazingly full of miracles and wildly GOOD things. Still. Eventually my old pal depression re-appeared even in the midst of what was a dream come true.
Writing about it, asking out loud for kindness and connection is a very brave thing to do. It is an act of total defiance of the smallness and isolation that depression requires to thrive. So good for you!!! Do not feel judged, feel connected to a whole constellation of others who totally understand how it feels to be in that place. And even though it really feels like it at the time, it will not last forever.

I admire your courage in such a raw and poignant post.
You write from a very enlightened place deep within….you are so real and good.
peace & hugs
xo

Iâ€™ve always harbored a melancholy heart; leaning toward music, books and art that touch the bluest parts of my heart. I was raised to be empathetic, but somewhere along the line empathy distorted and twisted into feeling as if I am rooted in the wrong somehow- therefore responsible for taking on burdens, making right the wrongs that my being incites. This false notion, this fear has kept me from living much of the life Iâ€™ve wanted to live. I used to think it was selflessness- martyr complex, but now I realize how very self absorbed this line of thinking has been. Imagine, one person having this much control of a world ruled by chaosâ€”coming to terms with this carries additional weight.

Like you Iâ€™ve felt this weight since I can remember. Iâ€™ve never taken medication to try to control it, Iâ€™m afraid of weight gain, and â€¦losing control. I think I may be a little afraid of letting go of melancholy. Itâ€™s a familiar friend.

I found a way to manage, I let go of me and lived someone elseâ€™s life. I abandoned my passions and became his cheerleader. For 23 years I lived the life that he wanted to live, took on work that would best maintain his lifestyle. I followed his every move, and turned over every account â€¦ It wasnâ€™t a bad life. When he started to drift, I tried to find pieces of me that were lost, the more of me that I found the further he drifted until he was gone.

He was my community of friends. The few friends and family that Iâ€™ve maintained can only do so muchâ€”I donâ€™t let them in, wonâ€™t allow them to do for me. At the same time I want rescue, someone to throw open the curtains, sweep in and set me straight.
All the while I smile, I pretend, and the bills get paid. I have 2 lovely boys who deserve a better model–More guilt and more pain.

Yesterday I woke and dragged myself around, I talked to a few people, I did a few things, I pushed and I did. Today Iâ€™ll try again; tomorrow Iâ€™ll do the same.

Iâ€™m looking for a Zen like peace, letting go of expectations and coming to terms with the fact that life is not really a reflection of what I do for others, simply what I do. Iâ€™m trying to keep my sights on what I can doâ€”the smallest of things, one at a time, and each time I do, the stones fall from my pockets.

I am so inspired by your courage. It takes a lot of guts to write what you did. There is nothing to be ashamed about but somehow we are conditioned to only show our best selves and refrain from sharing what we feel are our weaknesses. But such is life. We soar & we fall on our asses. And you baring your most raw self IS magic. Lots of love on your healing journey.

â€œThere are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.â€ ~ Willa Sibert Cather

SweetMermie …
… your courage inspires me.
You are seen
You are heard
You are loved

I am always here for you sweet mermie.
cynthia

hi you. you know i understand. and you never ever have to pretend with me. its a different road for those of us who have this thing. and as much as its sucks shit, i think it is also what makes us so soft and so able to see and feel and understand so deeply. i am here, sparkling or in the gutter, i am here.
love jen

Beautiful, beautiful, you…

Advise? No, I have none… this is your pain, and your strength shining through… just know that I love you, and am hugging you always.

Love,
Me

I acknowledge your pain. Depression for me was like driving but not being able to see anything in front of you, driving in darkness. I felt like if I let myself go too far I might just drive off a cliff bc I couldnt see where I was going. Trying to not sink too deep, in itself was stressful. Yelling, crying, talking to myself and my therapist helped me get through it. I am sorry for this ache in your heart. I love you and will be thinking of you often.

Hi There - I’ve been visiting here for a long time and never commented. I think you are really brave for telling it like it is - the good, the bad and the ugly. Thanks.

just wanted to say that i hear you, your story, your words, your heart, and i hear you beginning to step into a space of acknowledgment, not shame, and into a breath of peace. it’s coming. hang in there. you are not alone, sweetcheeks.
xo

mccabe,
you are so brave, my friend. you have touched me deeply as tears are welling.

a very good friend who has walked down the path of (in)fertility once told me that the depression from it never lifts until you hold that baby in your arms. so, because of this, i am with you, walking this journey along side you, even if for very different reasons.

no advice. you are wise to ask that gently. this is so telling that you are learning how to take good care of your empathic heart.

i have this amazing image of all these strong women warriors circling you right now. by you opening up and speaking your truth, you have called them to you. isn’t that sweetness?

you are not alone.

love you and tell me what you need.

xo,
denise

no advice. only love, a warm hug, gentle tears, and a hand to hold. you are never alone. i love you. xoxo

tears are falling as i think of how brave you are to write this. sending you love and warm hugs.
always.

You are so brave! The strength of the vulnerability you’ve allowed shines through here. I have a theory. That sometimes the overwhelming sadness that is felt (especially by the empathetic) is in part for the world at large. There is so much that is off and those who feel deeply are carrying the weight of sorrow for the earth and those people who are hurting who don’t have a voice or an audience. I think you’re carrying the burden of many as well as your own. Denise is right though and you are surrounded by warrior women and some enlightened men folk who can help shoulder this burden with you even if you just need their presence and acknowledgement of your pain. I see no shame here only beauty.

So much love and so much support right here before your very eyes. Soak it up and keep it close as you rest in the darkness… the light’s coming, sweet one… it will come when it’s time. In the meantime, rest in all this incredible love that brings tears to my eyes. So many who love you. You are so not alone. I love you, mc.

Dear McCabe,
You are not alone in this…you have so many people that love and care about you. I know the struggle is within yourself and I know you will be well. You are a one brave lovely lady and I admire you for your honesty and for the generosity of your big, beautiful heart. Much love, Josefina

Brave beautiful you….I am cheering over here for you…because you took this step, and you put yourself out there, and I KNOW that is hard to do.

I will say this…it is my belief that your magic shines through in your honesty and your inherent strength shines through in your willingness to share this with us.

I know that when I started to share this year…and announced to everyone that I knew I needed help, and that this was okay…it felt good to release and it felt good to receive that love and support.

And so now…I send you mountains of love and support and many many warm hugs. xoxoxo

beautiful lady. the beauty of this community is that we don’t all have to be up and perky all the time. as women we each understand different degrees of depression. we stand collectively and embrace you at this time. at other times you will be strong enough to hold me up when i am unable to do it myself.

i stand, with each commenter, and many other readers, as your life jacket. i so appreciate your honesty at such a rough time of life. you’ll find the very best road to travel. (((bighugs)))

gosh you are such a shining star!! You are SO beautiful. Your words. and you. much much love, and this…..(((THANK YOU…..your courage is a gift, you don’t know how much this meant to me)))
xoox
KINDNESS
by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes any sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Excerpted from Ten Poems to Open Your Heart by Roger Housden. “Kindness” from Words Under the Words: Selected Poems by Naomi Shihab Nye.

You’re bravery and honesty are inspiring. I believe this subject is getting less and less taboo. Maybe it is just my circle of friends who talk openly about medication and our lows. I remember telling my doctor that I spent from the time I got up throughout the entire day thinking of going to bed that night, looking forward to it, and I was actually surprised when she said that this wasn’t normal. I’m on the same path. I’ve been on and off meds, always wanting to believe I am better then realizing I’m not when it creeps back in. We all must do what feels right to us…what helps us…hang in there and know you are not alone and not judged, just loved. xoxo

thank you for writing this. thank you for being brave. thank you for sharing. thank you for helping.

it is not easy to reach out, it is not easy to ask for help.

but you are, and slowly, i believe this will help. it will.

much love to you. invisible hugs surrounding you. can you feel them?

Also, how can I help? (you can answer that whenever you are ready)

this is my first comment here.
yesterday i came really close to swallowing a lot of pills because life is too much right now. but i didn’t, and today i told my boyfriend. which was hard. i don’t think he understands. but it’s okay, because no one really understands, not even me.

i am saying this because it’s filled me with such hope to know that someone as beautiful as you are can hurt like this despite all of the wonderful things in her life. it makes me feel less crazy and alone. so thank you.

Dear McCabe,

You know our stories are quite similar. If we back track to 2003 I ended up getting very very sick. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I couldn’t eat without getting diarrhea, and cramps, and light headed. I didn’t know if I had cancer or what. It took months to get a diagnosis. I was at my heaviest. I had people telling me it was my fault, the reason I got sick was too many candy bars. I got depressed because I had to drop out of school and I was too sick to work. I think its the feeling that you can’t do what you are “supposed” to do, making me feel worthless in some way. Take heart, you are not alone in this journey. Plenty of people have felt this way before. I know I have for sure. Its been a few years now, but I’m getting back on my feet. I had my gallbladder removed due to inflammation and gallstones. But the fear is still there. I too, am a people pleaser and am deeply sensitive.

WHen I look at your picture I see a stunning woman, absolutely beautiful. I’m not into girls in that way.. giggle… but I would totally smooch ya if I had the chance.. ha ha! Lady you are HOT! And a sweet individual who is only human. Remember to be kind to yourself and take each day as it comes. You are wonderful. Lots of Love,
Andrea D.

I may not know what it’s like on your particular journey but I have known depression, I have known being too thin and sick. Gentle love on your journey.

(((((((McCabe)))))))

I love you, both in your light and in your darkness. I text you, but don’t worry about texting in return - it’s really more about when it feels like you might need a little love.
I understand your some of your struggle, and some of your shame. My depression has actually been quite ugly the past few months, and I’ve not figured out what to do to manage it at this point in time. What I kind of feel like doing (hiding in my bed all day long) won’t really pay the bills on my ButterflyBungalow…
In any case, I adore you, and honor this journey for you. I’m here to hold your hand, offer a hand to hold, or an ear (or two) to listen.
You are magic, even when the glitter isn’t shining…
*BigLove&Hugs*
Jess

i just want to thank you for being so open.. so trusting with your feelings. all i can say is that you’re not alone.. I want to share with you the poem that I think sums up how I think.. I don’t want to assume.. how you feel.. in your searchings thru this experience and thru your life in General.. it’s by James Kavanaugh

“I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains,, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves.”

McCabe…

You are a very brave, strong soul. Your honest words, and your courage to reach out and ask for help shows enormous strength.

I admire your courage and would just like to let you know that you are not alone. Other people, including myself, go through these dark thoughts. I sometimes feel like I am drowning and screaming but don’t know how or even have the ability to come up for air. I also struggle with body..size..image. It is a very difficult road to travel on and I want to you to truly understand you are not alone.

I am lighting a candle for you tonight and congratulating you on your courage.

If you need anything just ask. You have a very strong tribe here supporting you and I as long as I am sure countless others would do whatever they could to help you.

Jennifer

Mmmmm. I know, I really do. Depression is in my bones too. I’ve been trying to find the best ways to befriend myself during those ugly times, because for me, a self-hatred emerges and tends to reign supreme. I try to greet these grey days with open arms and hug myself often “Oh hello, you again.” (obviously not in a stoked tone, just ok, here we go again, hang on) Because it will leave again, it always does. And then, the sweet stuff is even better. That flipside is our superpower - we feel all sides up, down, all around. Breathe into it, feel it and trust it will go again, leaving new thoughts in it’s wake. For now, your inner wisdom knows what to do. Thank you for being so open; I am inspired by your strength and bravery for sharing. Sleep peaceful and feel the blogginglovelies warmth in your dreams!

Shit! Did I give advice? I didn’t mean to - just sending strength and a bit about how I deal with me

oh the things i would say if i could have you for just one day. but first, know this: you are a thing of rare beauty on the earth. yes, you. your presence–in happiness or in pain–adds a kind of wistful hope to the planet. sending lots of love your way.

Thank you so much for sharing this. You have no idea how powerful it is to see someone else is going through a similar thing. Much, much love to you.

you are one brave soul my dear, you wrote from your heart and that i can’t even tell you is beautiful. i know where you are coming from, i have dealt with the same issues - depression from an early age and going in and out of it throughout the years. i am here for you beautiful one, we all are. keep talking, keep writing, keep reaching out …i think that’s what we need to do to get through it and be on the other side….at least I hope so. love you dear one!! xoxox

You are brave and beautiful….I thank you for sharing yourself with us. Know that we are all here for you…spiritually connected sisters.

“i am still finding my path to mental wellness
and exploring the different options that are out there.”

And that is the most wonderful thing you are doing.

(((((((many hugs to you))))))))

i understand what you’re saying, and fully appreciate and admire your bravery and honesty to put it into words. not only words, but word that are seen by many.

i’ve been up and down this road as well. the feeling of not being able to summon the energy to do more than just lay there. the empty feeling inside your head that seems to be buffering you from the sadness.

i truly hope you slowly but soon emerge from this into a lighter place. xoxo

I found this post because of bohogirl’s blog. It was powerful to read and see so much of myself in it.

Depression is at it’s peak for me right now. I have been feeling lost for some time and it is getting me down. I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and the friends that I do have don’t understand me. I feel isolated in my own world and have no one that understands me.

This is not my first bout of depression and probably not my last. I am the child of a bipolar father. Depression is like a third child in my family. I am on meds and without them I would probably be much worse.

I hope you find peace in your journey. Someday we will both feel the cloud lift and feel whole and joyous. But until that time comes know that you are not alone and that writing this lets some of the pain out and caring people in. Blessings to you.

I’ve been reading for a while, never left a comment before. You are so brave to admit you need help… That took me soooo long. And what did it was my body, telling me that I was not ok. I felt sick for over a year, and “physically” there was nothing wrong with my body, all tests and exams came back clear. But I felt horrible, sick and without energy. Then I read this book (The Healing Power of Illness, by Thorwald Dethlefsen & RÃ¼diger Dahlke) and realized that all my symptoms were my body’s way to tell me that something was not right deep within me. Our symptoms are sings our body sends us as a way to get our attention, as a way to point out what might be the cause of our sadness ou illness. But we need to learn how to read these signs… Love,
Lucia

darling-I am hugging you and loving you and your bravery-and shedding my own tears because you describe what my last 7 months has been like. It is a scary place for me and I just keep fighting-but I am getting so tired.

Hugs and much much love

You know, as I’ve been reading your blog I have said to myself time and time again… is this woman my sister? We are so similar in so many ways, as I am certain similar to another whole handful of amazing women out there neither of us has discovered yet as well.
I would e-mail you and write you my own bouts with depression, but I swear I’d never finish it. (Not to mention recent health issues. Believe me I get it.) The only thing that I can tell you is that it all comes day by day. How am I feeling today. As my grandmother from Czechoslovakia used to say, “slow by slow.” Another friend of mine told me that she was going to have that tattooed to the insides of her wrist. Now that’s something to me. Grandma’s words are actually it looks like saving someone who I cherish and adore. I want to share them with you too, because even though I don’t know you… I feel your pain and your struggles and I love you, for simply that reason alone. You are a beautiful person that can feel so intently, its a miracle. I know this as well. I know this to the point of sitting next to a person on a bus, not saying a word and getting off and sobbing because I had picked up on my neighbors energy and emotions. Oh… *sigh*
I care, I do.

Dear mccabe,
I have been there! And I think you are so brave to share this with us. Sending you a warm hug across the ocean.

Yes, that large heavy stone.
Unfortunately, I know it well.
And then there is that practical side of me that makes me want to build a wall with the collection I’ve gathered over the years.
Not quite Helen Nearing..

I’ve struggled with depression my whole life. I was on a long string of antidepressants–one after the other–from the time I was 17 until I was 33. I went off because we wanted to conceive–which very unhappily hasn’t happened yet… Daily exercise, yoga, not drinking much alcohol or caffeine and a little bit of meditation have gotten me through, but some days things just look so black. Your post touched me deeply–for its honesty and the way it was almost like hearing my own self talking…. I wish peace for you dancing mermaid.

I am a new reader who has never left you a comment until now. You are held deeply in my thoughts as you travel this road….Christine

McCabe - you are so strong and brave to share this with all of us. That strength and bravery will get you through this. I’ll keep you in my thoughts!
Shannon

Hello. I’ve not commented before either but wanted to say I’m here. I can’t know what it’s like for you, but I feel something similar to your description and wanted to thank you for the honest, brave and beautiful words you put out there. They made me cry, something I’ve been needing to do for a long time. So touching also to see all these people sidling up. Just wanted to say that I think you’re wonderful.

I’ve never given it a name but I suppose it could be called depression, maybe its sister, some feeling that even though things seem like they should bring joy, they simply don’t. I understand. And I celebrate your bravery.

As I read your blog, one word keeps dancing through my head …

Brave.

And you, my friend, are the epitome of that dancing, bold, courageous word.

You have an army of love and support around you, near and far, from those you know and those you don’t. You are never alone on this journey, even when it feels as though you are.

oh sweet ocean sister mccabe-
your words touch me deeply. thank you for your bravery and truth.
i have always always thought so much of you - i have seen your magic…at a time when i needed support the most, i got a card from you in the mail. it resides in my craft studio, where it can inspire me, make me smile, make me realize i am never alone…
i am so glad to see you stepping out from shame, to acknowledgement, and voicing these things so others can see, can relate.
you are beauty*full and courageous and i am so grateful to know you.
brightest blessings, and waves of good tidings to you, my friend.

Just want you to know that I’m here too.

Sending you so much love.
andrea

Thank you for writing this. I followed a link from Boho Girl to find you. And there you are, saying exactly what I’ve thought. Expressing things I was afraid to express. It feels good for me just to know you’re out there. I hope all these comments and messages help you a little bit too.

I am thinking of you. x

I too have been depressed most of my young life. I am not ashamed. I want to ask you the question How do you know that you are depressed adn not just unhappy with your life? This may not make sense to you but for me it is a HUGE question. Our little family just had a big move and we are have major family adjustments to make. I am scared I am now realizing what I never wanted to reveal(to myself or others)I am not happy with my marriage, my life. Thanks for your words. I don’t see any clearer but I knwo I am not alone. Good luck. Nikki Stevens

(((SweetMcCabe))) I understand. Holding your hand.

[...] 4. Sometimes people write things that hit you between the eye. Ouch. Others write things you’ve actually done before and you wonder why they wrote about it so well. Could be that you I just don’t make much sense sometimes. [...]

(((((McCabe)))))

I understand, I really do…sometimes it’s all I can do to get out of bed. I just want to lay with the covers over my head and cry, sometimes without even knowing why. I haven’t been brave enough to go on medication yet. I keep telling myself that I can handle this, that I don’t need it. I guess my point is - you’re so brave for admitting you need help and for taking the steps to get better. So many of us have our own versions of this experience and we are here for you, for anything you need from us. -much love-

jen

I’ve been there. On the meds, off the meds, unable to dodge life’s curve balls.

I write about it in bits and pieces. The most I’ve probably talked about it at one time is in this post.

I’m getting my shine back. I didn’t think I ever would. I always thought I’d be broken somehow. I might be a bit more fragile, but I don’t believe I’m broken.

sweetie,
this is one of those occasions where i admit that i have been here before, and revelled in your lush atmosphere, but never commented - so while you are someone already dear to me in this blogosphere, you don’t know me.
this post touched me and moved me to speak.
my own work with my depression sounds similar to yours in some ways. sensitive child, taking on the pain of others. i remember having a breakdown about something school-related when i was 18. when i was 17, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer and she died when i was about to turn 21. i spent a lot of time drinking too much, doing other recreational ‘activities’, and generally being very angry, under the guise of being the giggling party girl. i also spent a lot of time holed up in my bedroom - so much so that my stepfather didn’t realize i had adopted a kitten until 2 months after i had. i’ve been on and off meds, committed to psych wards, counselled to move into a group home, and had the police called on me because i wasn’t cleaning my apartment.
when i was 22, my godmother told me that the condition i’d grown up with and grown used to had a name - cerebral palsy - and discovering things about my condition (and how it might get worse with time and age) still can suckerpunch me from time to time.
this is part of my story. i am fairly open about it on my blog, but i wanted to share it with you here because you honoured me with yours.

i am wishing for you whatever you need. and sending you much love and respect and healing…

xoxoxo

I found you via Mocha Momma. I liked your post very much. For me blogging is my opportunity to treat the world like my big couch. I spill my guts and sometimes I get feedback and sometimes silence. What I find most useful which I did not expect was that I have a record of personal growth. When I have moments of sinking low, I go back and re-read some of my posts or some of the comments that were uplifting.
Keep the faith.
Love,
Babz

oh honey … i have been away from my blog reading all weekend to come here to find these words written on what would have been my sister’s birthday were she still around. i am wrapping all my love around you like the softest cashmere pashmina, i am admiring you and your strength and wrapping my smile around your heart … sending you love honey, so much love. i haven’t read through your comments as there are soooo many but i sense that you are recieving much love from around the world, holding you in their hearts. i love you. xox

I found you today via Boho Girl. I too am depressed & have been struggling with everything in life since my father died. I feel shameful about it everyday. You have reached out today & helped me more than you know. Now I reach out to you & give you a big hug & wish you love & understanding.

Hello:)
I often stop by here to read your beautiful and caring and deep reaching words. Thank you for being so courageous. Depression is so common in todayâ€™s society where ‘the sky is the limit’ and yet in its wake linger big labels such as shame and inadequateness that make us shudder and keep silent…. After all, arenâ€™t we supposed to know the remedies (meditation, exercise, positive affirmations and so on) and the power of thoughts? I know that this has prevented me from asking for help. I keep thinking I can help myself and that there are so many other people out there who are really suffering and who are really depressedâ€¦surely the ups and downs that I experience way too often doesnâ€™t qualify? It is so easy to stay in these orbits of thoughts. Today, your post reminded me of being truthful to myself and others and inspired me to do exactly this: ask for help. Thank you. Big hug from across the world:)

I read you blog often, and I just wanted to tell you how much courage you have putting your thoughts into words, You are truly an inspiration.

{{{Hugs}}}

XOXOXO

Hi there,
I am a lurker who found you via Boho Girl. Just wanted to add my voice to the many others to say you are not alone! And I thank you so much for reminding me that I am not alone. I too have struggled this past year with depression (although it was a long time before I realised or admitted to myself thats what it was). I felt like a total failure because there was no ‘reason’ for me to be depressed. I am healthy, in a great relationship and have lots of great things happening and to look forward to in my life. I felt really ashamed. And frightened that I would never get out of it, and that it would drive my friends and family away. It helps so much to hear of other people’s struggles and triumphs with this horrible thing.

So no advice, but just a big hug from someone who knows what its like.

xxx

i’ve never been to your site until today, though I’ve heard of you through the loverly boho and jen gray.

i am a teacher, and i am sitting in my classroom, crying my eyes out. for you, and for me, and for this disease that bears so much shame and ickiness. i know the stomach pain, the endless crying, the hours of tv, the bawling and asking where the mojo went.

i’m lighting a candle for you right now. i’ve been there, and i know the struggles that come with meds or no meds and how much and everyone’s opionions on the subject.

i’m here…keep talking.

sending you a bit of love and peace, today…

I struggle as well. 20 years so far. I can’t offer advice, just hope.

I hear you so much. I too have spent far too much of my life taking on others pain the ‘poor’ story and being wracked by guilt which is beyond and overblown to the size of the offense.

I have gone throgh YEARS where just getting up going to work and repeating this has been as much I can manage.

I have just done 4 years of therapy which a great therapist and finally finally feel out the otherise. I’m a month without therapy and hope that I now have the skills and strength to face life with joy.

Its so hard so very hard to keep going. I’m sending you a hug, a bunch of flowers, a home made meal and some real mail - all virtually!

If you do want some real real mail email me.

BIG HUGS.
THANKS FOR SPEAKING UP AND SHARING YOUR STORY.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE
AND YOUR DISEASE IS VERY REAL
BEST WISHES.
TTT

Thank you for your words about this thing that is so hard to understand. I have struggled with depression since high school, off and on. When I moved to California after graduating college, I didn’t know anyone. I didn’t like the people I worked with, I didn’t feel any particular affinity with my neighbors, I wasn’t used to the way of life of people here, I felt very very alone. And it was all compounded by not being able to spend more than two days with my family in Oregon for Christmas. I think I probably terrified the people I sat next to on the flight back, as I was nearly sobbing in my seat. When I started to come up from it enough to see where I had been, I started cutting out pictures of people who looked “happy” and I pasted them in my apartment, determining that I would get there myself.

Some days are great, some days I can’t see beyond the cloud that comes up and surrounds me. I’m still figuring out how to deal with it in a way that works for me and how to not push people out of my life when I’m in it. And there’s this ever-so-disheartening voice that starts to scream, ‘no, no, no, no, not this again, I don’t want to go back there’ when I start sinking into it. I think that might be one of the worst and most sinister bits - knowing how hard it is and wanting so badly to fight it and not being able to yet accept that sometimes I will just go through this and it will hurt, but that somehow it will all be okay and I am still an amazing person.

So, hugs from someone who has never met you. Thank you for finding such bravery in the middle of the darkness.

dear mccabe, i read your story after i went to jen gray’s website. i’m so glad you wrote what you did. i have a sister that has dealt with depression a long time and i feel like the things i say that are positive to me don’t always help her. so i hope what i say doesn’t offend you because it’s just what works for me and i’m hoping it is reassuring to you. basicallys, to me, the things that have gotten you depressed in the past are all very normal life things. so in my opinion, you are being too hard on yourself and labeling yourself “depressed” when what you are dealing with are normal, ie, loved ones passing on, etc. it sounds like you only have it periodically when something hard happens and that is perfectly normal! don’t get yourself too worked up if you get depressed…it’s OK!!!! you are OK! and i love this quote from SARK…”you are enough, you have enough and you are dearly loved”…peace, love and joy…jenn bushnell

You are not alone. I know it feels like you are, but you aren’t in a very real way. Especially now that you’ve reached out in such an open honest way. That can only bring good things in. I hope that you are flooded with wonderful, fufilling endorphins that hang around for a long time. Hang in there!

From one sweet soul sister to another ~

Holding this space and sending you gentle love and some comfy lavender blankets to surround yourself with.

Much Love to You ~ oxoxo

P.S. I shall e-mail you soon ~ Do let me know if you need anything ~ Even if it’s just virtual hugs or a card sent your way every now and then ~

(((((((((((Mermie-Love)))))))))))))

I took care of my Mother as she battled bipolar illness from the time I was a little girl. She tended to be down a lot. I thought all Mommies slept as much as mine. I brought food and opened windows and turned off lights. I did what I could all the time aching to fix it. I never did. When she died in 2002 I finally had some inkling of what she had dealt with for her short 50 years on earth. I felt closest to her outdoors so I spend a lot of time walking and walking and looking up at the stars. I felt like my connection with her would be broken if I went into my house. I often sat outside to the wee hours of the morning (esp. in the early months). I cried a lot for the first year. Then the rock on my chest started to feel a little lighter. And today (5 years later) I am okay. I give her so much credit for doing what she could (and often) what she couldn’t as she tried to escape her black cloud. And I applaud you for sharing your soul on your blog. I hope it helps to know you’re not alone even if it feels that way sometimes. I am thinking big thoughts on your behalf in the form of sunny skies, fluffy white clouds and peace of mind.

For me, the roller coaster didn’t stop until I accepted that the meds were as necessary as oxygen. I reminded myself that I wouldn’t be self-judgmental if I took a medication to halt cancer or stop an illness - and so that’s how I look at my pills. They are vital pieces of my body’s fight against depression. And I now love and respect them for the help they give me.

i love you so much mermie mccabe..
you are brave and honest and I admire you’re putting the current truth out there .. now it’s no secret you can deal any way you choose..
I know you will choose wisely
i’m sorry it’s taken so long to drop by and reply..
been hiding in a dark barrel of depression of my own ..
but trying to see light now .. and remember how many loving friends are out there

Mermie Love ..

With time and gentleness you will find your way back to center. I know it & sense it & believe in you ~ The inner flame may seem dim but know there’s always a lost spark to light it aflame ~ When one is ready ~ Meds or no meds sometimes depression no matter how deep or shallow needs to run it’s course ~

This is what I’ve found ~ the most valuable asset I have are my close knit circle of friends ~ Even though they’re spread far across the globe — when I need them — they are there for me, and I them ~

I’m here listening ~ am here for you ~ I’m sorry you are hurting so ~ Holding this beautiful gentle space ~ and surrounding you in an abundance of pink healing light ~ Miss you and send my love beautiful soul ~

((((((((((((Mermie)))))))))))))))

Hey love,
thinking of you,
sending hugs,
wishing I could lift that depression right off your sweet heart.
Wishing that for you, me, and so many others.
I’m holding you close here in Baltimore.
You are not alone.
And you have over 100 comments.
WOW.
Your words and your truth have touched many.
Love you, sweet mccabe.

I am a new lurker, but I just wanted to say that I was comforted by your words … thank you!

I’ve been skating around this thread for months now, too afraid to contribute to all these wonderful words.

But today, I’ve decided to be brave. Noone will read these words probably, but at least I will know that I have written them. The bravery won’t last long, so I better get to it:

2006 turned out to be a terrible year for me in many respects. I was in a soul-destroying job which killed any self-respect or confidence that I ever had, I was in a failing relationship, I was still recovering from a miscarriage the previous year (contributing to the second factor) and, above all, I felt scared and lonely. At the time I was living in a big city with few friends and no real friends, with noone I could confide in.

And with this, I dropped my basket.

I remember very very little about this time, I was locked down in that awful numb dissociative haze that occurs with severe depression. What I do remember is clearing my desk at work, walking down the streets sobbing, and then finding myself on the edge of a train platform (platform 1). It was the middle of June, a sunny warm day and it was 15.33pm. I didn’t jump. I intended to, but then thought of all the times the trains on this line had been cancelled due to other people who couldn’t face life anymore, and I didn’t have it in me to disrupt people’s journeys home. Seriously, that was what stopped me.
I took the next train home, walked into my house agents and told them that I needed to leave. No later than the following week. They must have seen my face or felt the vibes, because they let me go without a word, and even gave me some of the furniture that I liked to take with me. I’ll always love them for that.

I then took the train back into work (where I should have been the entire time) and quit right there on the spot.

I called my family and they drove down 3 hours the next day and bought me back to sanctuary.

In terms of my body: I put on a great deal of weight, I had 24/7 stomach pains which often led me retching in the bathroom at random intervals. I couldn’t breathe properly (hyperventilation occured on a daily basis), my pulse was about 150 at rest, I continually felt like I was about to pass out, and I was sleeping all the time (when I wasn’t panicking). I didn’t even realise that I was in such a state of high anxiety, as it creeps up on you without warning and without making a noise.

Now, 18 months later, I am living in a far quieter, more rural area (by the ocean no less), I am holding a job down successfully and I am happy to be on my own for the time being. But most importantly, I am able to see the light at the end of the tunnel and see a way in which I can be truly happy in my soul. I still have some panic attacks but far fewer and I can now control them, and I am able to go out and actually do things again. I never thought I would experience any of this again, and that means more to me than anything else I think.

I’m fourteen and not very much into the blog scene; i never saw your pictures or your writing before very recently. i wanted to say how this post resonated with me, as I’m sure it has with many people.
i know that in almost every situation depression is hard to understand and come to terms with, like it is for me, as a teenager and a girl, and as something that is so easy to write off. it’s because of people like you that the burden has become more visible and therefore less lonely; that the shame is easier to cope with, the stigma and the isolation as well.

thank you.

Hi McCabe,
I know this was posted a while ago, but I was compelled to share my story with you.
I have struggled with depression on and off since childhood. I just thought I was “sensitive” and tried to buck up and “deal”- I’m from NJ, sarcastic ribbing is part of the gene pool up there I swear.
I have sought therapy and struggled through my mother’s passing as well as a divorce within six months of each event- without meds. I thought it was some sort of badge of courage to not be on meds- weird and I’m not sure what that is about.
Just this last year after the shooting at my school, a situation in my relationship, and the overall stresses of a doctoral program- I found myself on meds with a diabetes diagnosis. I was so zonked on the meds at first and needed friends to drive me everywhere- I felt like a failure. But, they helped and I’ve stayed on them to ensure I don’t have to deal with anxiety or depression as I go through the many changes with my diabetes meds. It does feel like a different world to me now and I’m thank- full for that.
Blessings to you as you go through your journey and know you are never alone in this struggle. (((hugs)))
A new friend, Eileen.

Hot Garden Fountain Freak…

Although i totally disagree with you, i still appreciate you\’re post. (but you\’re wrong here )…

Your Dogs Skin Allergies Â– A Guide To Treatment And Prevention…

Your dog’s body has a remarkable immune system of antibodies, which are protein substances produced by cells called lymphocytes, that destroy antigens that invade the body, such as viruses and bacteria….

hello honest amazing brave sharer We do not know each other but I came across your blog last week by way of Andrea Sher and Denise, Boho Girl… there is such beauty in how a community grows and despite the miles we are forever changed by someone’s words or brave sharing…. there is so much I want to write to you but in a nutshell…. here it goes. I am an Expressive Arts Therapist livin’ in the Boston, MA area, who is as sensitive as you. I have been working as a crisis clinician for 3 years at a Crisis Team that has been seeping all creativity from me, doing evaluations mostly in Emergency rooms when people are at the end of their hope and no art groups. Long story short I came across your blog and thought …wow she provides a safe place for kids to create and seems to be pretty empathic too. Your blog offerred me hope to soon leave my job. Honestly, I wondered how I could do this with my financial fears etc but there was hope in your pictures, in your posts and I have just felt like it is possible to create the needed safe spaces to be sad, to create, to be messy and teary and snotty despite your age. I too have bouts of deep depression and anxiety as well as wonderful moments of clarity mixed in. It’s tough but I think in sharing our stories we are able to move into a community of safe ones who understand, or snuggle into the warmth for a bit or just know the hope is there.

For me when I am in the darkness, the first thing that usually goes is the caring for my body, it’s like I move on into my head space full of stories and disregard the rest of me. I take a low dose of Celexa too. MOst important to my story is the work I do with my mentor who is amazing. Her name is Robin and actually she lives in CA. We talk by phone weekly and it has been the best “therapy”, focusing, mentor relationship I have ever ever had in my entire life. I have seen a therapist since age 10 when my mom died so this has been a long journey to this point.

Robin has introduced me to the parts of me who are strong and not beat up. She also expanded my own knowledge of writers and artists who have definitely helped my life as well as how I work with clients. From Cheri Huber to Geneen Roth to Debbie Ford and Carolyn Myss to SARK. Email me directly if you would like to see her web site, her own writings are FULL of support.

McCabe I ahev to go now but please know you are so loved and so needed and by sharing your story you have had a wonderful ripple effect out into a community of people in your tribe The support is here…. but also I want to invite you to become more acquainted with that amazing strong part of you too. Love and hope, Jen G

One last thing…. I too thought I lost something but perhaps it is our minds and our stories that make us feel this way. The moving on and the journey may not be one “going back” but rather one of going inside. You are not alone. I can certainly say for me and my experience , to go inside I needed a guide, in my case Robin my mentor. If I went alone I went into the dark stories and sadness full force with no gentleness or kindness. I would get caught in my web of stories that dominoed into more sadness. Robin was there to invite me in simple ways to really listen, to check in with parts of my body, to come down from my mind and head and leave the story for a little while. For me, my depression is nasty and can take on the feel of an agitated adolescent or child screaming for change or attention or just a deep childlike sadness for what I do not have. This has been quite a journey. It’s been amazing being able to find a way even if for an hour, to love myself thru these times as my mother would have or as my wise self wants to love me. When I am patient, little by little the dark depression’s voice gets softer and I can hear the words of others who understand and of that wise part that just knows. No words just a feeling of yes, you are sad and I am here. Sometimes that is all I need. I wish you moments of a safe feeling in the depression, like “it’s okay to be sad about this.” And times where your wise self guides you to what you need.

got to run…. love to you

cartoon trying to lift up a weight…

There are various claims that bovine colostrum boosts IGF-1, however, after doing some research on this at pubmed, it does not appears…

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moving on

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