Today at lunch I got into the car and discovered that Q101, the local alternative station, is trying to kill me.
Their latest "gimmick" is: 13 Years in 13 Days. They're playing back the top 101 songs of each year they've existed in their current format: 1993-2005. Today was 1993.
Hearing those songs did something to me. I have often hypothesized a point at which I just wasn't going to be able to stand it anymore; where all the pain of losing JP would crash in on me and I would be completely helpless, completely wrecked beneath the weight. I have lived pretty much in fear of that moment, especially the part where I didn't know what would bring it about.
I think I ran headlong into that moment today. I can't even describe how lost I felt, how lonely those songs made me feel--and even more, how shaken I was to realize that of those thirteen years, only three of them ever really happened. There was 1993, when I wasn't speaking to JP; there was 1994, when we got back together; and 1995, when we were perfectly happy together until he died. After that everything is a blur, insignificant--as though it happened to someone else.
I do not want the rest of my life to happen to someone else.
I called the hotline number for the company's mental-health benefits provider, and I got a referral. I went through the whole rigamarole: I need a referral for depression, yes there's substance abuse, then answer everything about substance abuse and very little about the depression itself--oh, I know this game, and I think I managed to cover up the fact that I was crying through most of the conversation. "What do you think triggered this depression?" she finally asked, this nice lady, and I took a deep breath and said "I don't exactly know." Which was a lie, but not exactly a lie; more a case of How long have you got?
And I got my referral, and a number to call tomorrow--which I will do, even though today's call was about as much strength as I care to summon for a while. At least I did something, even if it took all my energy to do it.
I don't know what happens next. I know that I'm already tired of crying, and I'm not even an hour into this process yet.
And oh, god, how I miss him....
It gets better, I promise.
ReplyDeleteGladys, I'm proud of you for summoning the energy to take that step.
ReplyDeleteThis is a terrible time of year for people who suffer from depression. There is nothing anyone can say that can make any difference. You are absolutely right in seeking professional help.
ReplyDeleteI cannot articulate in a million years, how brave I think you are in making that decision.
I wish you the best from the bottom of my heart.
I'm so glad that you did that. It is so hard to make those calls. I do hope that you get a good match.
ReplyDelete"I'm already tired of crying..."
Oh, yes, it's exhausting. Slow down and take as much care of your body as you can.
Hang in there, Gladys...
ReplyDeleteMega mega big hugs & much love
ReplyDeleteJust want to add to what everyone has already said. I'm so sorry for the pain you feel over losing JP...
ReplyDeleteSending cyber hugs your way. Hope you'll find some relief and a good match with a counselor. If not, please keep trying til you find one you click with. You are stronger than you know. Hang in there, hon.
I hope you have a great holiday! Stay strong, Gladys.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry Gladys. I hope you are able to find strength and peace and I wish you the happiest of holidays.
ReplyDelete