Suck it up, Buttercup

January 28th was Bell "Let's Talk" day. I meant to write a blog about it but if you follow me regularly, you'll know I haven't been writing much these days. The statistics are...well..sad to be honest. Over 3 million Canadians are suffering from depression at this moment. One in five will experience it at some point in their lives. And I think the numbers are probably skewed because there is so much of a stigma attached to admitting you have a problem. 

Y'all know I went through it - to an extreme extent - myself. The last couple of years? My old friend hasn't really bothered me. The anxiety never went away. He's an asshole. The depression though, was gone. I never cried. I didn't feel sad any more than any "normal" person does. And there wasn't anything some Ben & Jerry's and a chat with a friend couldn't cure.

Last Saturday though, it came back. The pacing around the apartment at 4 am. The panic attacks. The constant crying. The events that triggered it - I should have seen it coming. But I didn't. I was in such a great place. I was getting up really early every morning. Taking the dog out. Doing yoga and practicing meditation. I felt between my job, my friends and having my JW family back in my life and me as part of theirs, I finally had everything I could have hoped for since I decided to walk away from that old life 5 years ago. 

That religion though is exactly like the song Hotel California. "You can check out any time you like but you can never leave." And unless you are very, very lucky, you cannot walk between the two worlds and think you can have both. I have been subject to a lot of criticism, a lot of hate on this blog for trying to do that. I understand why so many ex-jws are hurt. I understand why some of the people who are disfellowshipped would be upset with me for publicly not completely disassociating myself with that group. 

My girlfriend wasn't invited to her sister's 10 year anniversary party. My invitation was rescinded to my sister's wedding. Honestly? I didn't really want to go anyway. The thought of walking into a Kingdom Hall makes me need an Ativan. I did spend months though getting myself strong enough to do it - for her. Thus all the yoga, all the meditation, all the positive thinking. 

All families are a little bit crazy. Like it or not though, we are hardwired to love them. And I do. This hurts. It hurts like my heart was ripped out and chopped up in front of me. But I'm not angry. I'm sad. And I can't tell you how many people have caught me crying at my desk at work this week. 

You know what I've learned? That even when it gets this bad, I'll never try to hurt myself again. Because now, I know for a fact that it goes away. That soon, I'll feel better. Depression lies to us but if we know it's lying it takes away some of its power over us. My best friend is getting married in May, so I will have somewhere else to wear that really pretty dress I bought.

My friends, colleagues and non-JW family have rallied up and supported me this week. I have the kindest people in my life that I could wish for. My girlfriend immediately booked a ticket to Toronto so I won't be alone that weekend. Another friend begged me to come spend it with his family in Montreal. My family back home bought me a plane ticket since I've already booked that week off work. My roomate took down all the family pictures while I was at work until I feel like I can look at them again. 

So I'll suck it up. There's little things that help. I've been wearing the necklace my brother bought me - a cross with a switchblade in it. I've had two sessions with my therapist instead of one. This was not a stellar week. Next week? Will be better. :)

Sullivan out.