Depression's Got A Hold of Me and I Might be Fucked

In about a month and half from now I’ll be celebrating my 20 year anniversary with the same lovely lady (Referred to hereafter as the SO). We’ve had three pretty spiffy children, one of which just graduated high school and already has his plan for college worked out (which is cool, since I never graduated). I’m really proud of him.

It’s been a really hard road for us, overall. I was never a good partner to her, and was not good for her in general (still don’t think I am). Now if you have followed my posts (sorry there haven’t been any lately, the why might be clear in a minute), you know that I suffer from depression. Like any depression, it has cycles, up and downs (and the down get so bad sometimes that I have seriously considered killing myself. I still have those thoughts, as recently as, well, now). So eventually, in addition to my normal suckitude as a life partner, my depression led to me effectively shutting down. The strain of our relationship led to her shutting down as well.

It eventually got to the point where we basically weren’t together. We were just cohabitating with our kids. Things got real fucked up (the details are private, but believe me, they got real fucked up).

Things finally came to a nasty head about 2 years ago, and I was pretty much at the lowest point I could get to, and it looked like it (it being everything) was pretty much completely over. And that just about killed me (or at least guided my hand). Then, after learning that my step dad died (on or within a couple of days of shit coming to that nasty head I mentioned), I had an epiphany (no better word for it).

I spent a few hours in the sun just thinking, and puzzling things out. Then the SO and I talked. A lot. I told her what I had figured out, what I was thinking, and what I thought I could do to make things better, if not right. I couldn’t make up for what had come before, but I could sure as fuck try to make what came next wonderful.

So I busted my ass trying to be the partner she needed. And I thought I was doing really well. She even agrees that things were near perfect for a while after that. I started to exercise, get back in shape. Healthy body, healthy mind, right? And I’ve stuck with that as much as I can.

If you follow my posts, in addition to depression, you also know that I suffer from chronic, severe pain in the L5 S1 area of my back, and periodically have to get shots to manage the pain. Well, a few months ago, I guess right around the start of the year, I tried to get my shots, but a . . . miscommunication resulted in my being unable to get them. And an opportunity hasn’t been available since then. Up until then, I had been doing a hell of a job managing my depression (at least I thought I had).

So since then, I guess I’ve been closing myself off or something. I know I haven’t been doing anything creative (like writing, hence no blog posts). I didn’t realize that I was doing so, because that’s how depression works (for some people). It eats at you slowly, trying different routes until it takes control again. In this case, since I was keeping it form usurping my mind it came at me through my body, made easier I think by my near-continual pain. As a result, I haven’t been able to exercise nearly as much, and I started smoking real cigarettes again (instead of the e-cig that was doing wonders for my lungs and endurance), so nowadays, I pretty much feel like shit all the time. Shit that can’t breathe without wheezing.

Any way . . .

So my depression spiked and broke through my mental barriers last night. All the way through. Suicidal thoughts and everything. But I managed to get a dialogue going with the SO. I find out that for a long while now, she’s been growing steadily unhappier again. To my ears, it sounds like we’re right back where we were when things started to get real bad. But I thought I was doing as good as I could. Seems that isn’t the case. I know that neither one of us can handle it if things go like they did the first time ‘round. Even as I write this, I’m filled with dark, angry thoughts. So it’s hard to figure out what I want or need to say.

I woke up angry and sad, and I just cannot shake it. I don’t know what is going to happen in our future, because I can’t help but think, if I tried my best and failed, how is there any hope of making things work at all? Is it just going to be an endless cycle of getting happier, and then growing even more unhappy, over and over? That’s not healthy for anyone involved. Seems like that will just end in a pool of black resentment.

I mean, apparently I was able to make it better once before, but that has seemingly crumbled. And I can’t, for the life of me, tell you what I did differently then that made it better. I honestly thought I was still doing whatever it was. If I don’t know what I did, how the fuck am I supposed to be able to do it again?

I feel alone (right now, I’m physically alone as well, and I don’t think that’s a very good thing), helpless and hopeless about the future. I’m lost, and I have no map, no compass, nor even any stars with which to navigate my course.

Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. I guess maybe I hoped it would help sort shit out. Don’t think it’s working.

I don’t know what the fuck to do.