opening some windows

i went to see an intake counselor at our county's behavioral health clinic... and i really am depressed. i don't know what it says about me that i needed outside confirmation of something i knew to be true, but there it is.

long term, untreated, major depression. she felt like it had been going on for a very long time, based on what we talked about. which by turns made me feel very sad, and relieved. i don't know who i am outside of the shadow of depression - the greatest struggle in my internal life has always been being true to who i am. and i certainly have not been. because the person i am, has been sad, and withdrawn and pretty isolated for years.

i was talking to a friend yesterday about the diagnosis, and she mentioned that she can only think of one event where i was obviously, overtly happy. this was after explaining my fears of being bipolar, given my family's history of it. but i never have been manic - more prone to sinking into sleep or despair, with no bursts of activity or emotion to mar the placid surface of my darkness. it was sad hearing that, but it has all subsided into numbness. yes, i have a diagnosis. and yes, we have a game plan in place. but right now, nothing is different other than my awareness of how wrong i am.

not a good place, actually. that feeling of being so screwed up, and unable to cope with life. or maybe that's the self-doubt talking, the voice that i always hear, whispering of my failure. i will be going to two group sessions for depression therapy, education and support, as well as starting medication and individual counseling fairly soon (my primary care dr. will have to prescribe or refer me to a psychiatrist and a counselor), and i have an appt. next week with her. i'm hoping that somehow, we turn a corner on this thing, this overwhelming feeling of sad, hate, black, numb. grey.

i posted my diagnosis on facebook yesterday. it was such a foolish moment, because i have never been one to share the deep dark stuff with anyone. it's been much easier to hide all of it, much easier to pretend i'm okay. and i'm so not okay. in an event that surprised me, i got nothing but an outpouring of love and support. and i felt so much less alone, reading messages from my friends who also struggle. also have the little black thundercloud that follows them around. a.a. milne described it perfectly, for all my dislike of modern winnie the pooh.

but i think this cloud might only be on the inside... which is why posting it in public felt like opening a window into my depression. here's to sunny days with strong winds, that blow the darkness out, rearrange the pictures of myself that hang on the walls of my psyche, and bring that tiny, almost unquantifiable, minute feeling of hope. so small, a whisper could blow it away. so strong, nothing could move it.

here's to hope. and windows into darkness. and being unafraid to open them.