Watching someone fall

I often think the ups and downs of my depression are not hardest on me, but on those closest to me.

My life is filled with people rooting for me to be healthy. I am so lucky that way. Being surrounded by people who want the best for you, who want you to be your best. And they are there for me so much. I struggle and they watch me get better, and they feel so much joy. Then all of the sudden I struggle again. And get better. And then struggle more. And it gets harder and harder to watch this up and down that seems to be filled with so much struggling. It gets harder to believe there will ever be success.

I know this feeling. It is the essence of being a Cleveland sports fan.

But as much as marketing campaigns will try and tell you different, sports are just sports. This suicidal depression stuff, it might be tougher to deal with than a Browns season.

I am a people pleaser so I want to give those closest to me what they are wanting so much, a healthy me. I smile, and someone will say, “So, you’re doing well?” They say it in the kindest way, really just wanting that for me so much, so I say “Yes” or “I’m trying.” My inner monologue is saying “Well this moment here feels good but tonight might feel like the loneliest, most painful of pains. I really don’t know, but I do appreciate your concern.”

I don’t say that though, and not because the other person wouldn’t be supportive, but because the person who says that stuff, it’s a drag to be that person. I want to say “fuck yeah, I feel so awesome right now.” or “Stuff is going really great.” I want to feel good, like the 95 Cleveland Indians good (racist mascot not included.)

Talking to people who aren’t as close to me is easier sometimes, because you know they are not feeling the ups and downs as hard as those you’re closest to. The people who have to see the disease effect you differently week by week, or day by day, or sometimes even moment to moment, the family and friends who are holding their breath, like a parent, watching their child walk for the first time by themselves, wanting to hold their hands, and protect them from falling, from hurting.

But anyone who has been a parent ,or a child (that’s everyone) knows that is not possible. We fall, we hurt, and as long as we sustain, we grow. So to those who watch the ups and downs so closely, to you I say:
Thank you. I promise you, I will get better. I so appreciate your love, and I wish I could take away your worry.