I was going through drafts I was afraid to send.  This is one of them, it is referencing the events shortly after my hospital stay.  I have started dealing with this now, but I want everyone to know what I am going through.  If it helps even one other person to get help, then it is worth the pain of sharing it publicly.  You have my permission to share.

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Watch this, then read this, if you will.

http://www.wimp.com/powerwords/

I watched this video and knew it was clearly staged to make me emotional.  My cynical mind shut off parts of me that didn’t want to deal with what I knew was coming.  My mouse hovered over the tab, ready to close it. And yet, it worked.  And not because of the obvious reasons; that we should pity the man.  I don’t.  I want to get to know him and help him, surely, but I don’t pity him.

It worked because there are days that I can’t see it, either.  I sometimes don’t see it because I am blind in another way.  I am suffering from guilt and depression deep enough that I sometimes feel blind.  My emotions shut off and suddenly burst forth like a dam breaking, flooding the town below me.  And that I probably need medication to deal with it.

A long time ago, someone suggested I could benefit from it, and I flatly refused.  They responded in a way that reverberated inside me and has come to a head recently due to a few unforeseen circumstances.  Here is how it went.

“You could likely benefit from a low dose of medication to level your moods.”

“I don’t want to medicate myself; It would stifle who I am.”

“Really?  You already self-medicate with alcohol.  What’s the difference?”

At the time, I dismissed it, but like a .223 round, it tumbled around, doing the maximum damage until I found myself here.  I am forced to be sober, I have a form of PTSD from my car accident, and I find myself forced to face everything I have been pushing back to the back.  I feel like the Alliance has put me through the River treatment, because now I seem to feel everything.  I can’t not.

And so, I will likely seek help.  I am not sure what form that help would take, but the best emotional week I have had in the last 3 years happened when the doctor prescribed me a week’s worth of anti-anxiety medication after my hospital stay.

I was level.  I accomplished more, although I wasn’t allowed to do much exercise. I felt…ok, for the first time in years, like I could actually handle what I was dealing with.  And then I ran out.

A few days later, I was back to sobbing uncontrollably while watching videos like this.  Why?

Because I need help.

Thank you for all of my friends that have dealt with this for the years that you have, silently – or not so silently – trying to get me to get help.  I am not sure how strong I actually am, but at least I can see it now.