90 Days Sober, and Counting

My husband and I stopped drinking 93 days ago. Alcohol was not bringing any benefit to our marriage, so we cut it out. Truthfully, I spent a good portion of 2019 sober, but it was a here and there kind of thing. A month of non-stop drinking, then a few weeks of no drinking. Another month or 2 of drinking, then a month or so of not drinking. I wanted to quit, but quitting is hard, especially when you’re doing it alone. Quitting hasn’t magically made my life perfect. It is hard, and there are wins and losses each day.

Here are some thoughts I have now that I am 93 days sober. This is the longest I have not had alcohol since I was about 15, so yeah, there is a lot to unpack.

The Bad:

1. It didn’t cure my depression, but I’ve come a long way. Most days are “good days” (aka non-depressed days), even if they are bad days. I still have “bad days” (aka depressed days), but they are few and far between.
2. I’m not as depressed, but I’m not happier, either. My emotions are pretty strong, and I do have times of happiness, but overall, my mood isn’t magically better.
3. I really miss the ritual around drinking. It was the thing I wanted to do, and I miss being able to, and what it brought with it. I find myself avoiding going out, to do anything, at all. I spend most of my free time at home, alone. I’m realizing how hard this is for me.
4. I don’t magically have more energy. In other non-drinking times, I have felt brighter – more awake, more energy, happier. This time I don’t. I’m so tired, all the time. I drink SO. MUCH. COFFEE. just to get through the day.
5. I don’t put as much effort into keeping in contact with my friends. Since I’m not doing a whole lot, I don’t have a lot to say. The things we used to do to hang out consisted mainly of wine tasting, getting drinks, going out for brunch/lunch/dinner + drinks.
6. I spend a lot more time on my phone. Playing mindless games, scrolling through social media, researching things I want to do, creating what would be my perfect life, etc. This does not bring me joy or help me reach my goals any faster. It does the opposite, in fact. I could be so much more productive if I would just get off my phone. Easier said than done, however.
7. I don’t have a crutch to lean on when something difficult or uncomfortable needs to be said or done. It’s so much easier to avoid those things now, but I am also so much more aware about how insecure I am. And how afraid I am to be vulnerable.

The Good:

1. I haven’t been hungover once in the past 3 months. My hangovers are all-day deals. Can’t-get-out-of-bed-ers. Barf at the thought of food or (gag) alcohol. Waste the day away sleeping, trying to avoid the state of death I’m currently in. They are often mixed with regret, shame, and embarrassment also.
2. I haven’t done anything I’m embarrassed of! Well, no embarrassment stemmed from an alcohol fueled day or night, anyways.
3. I’ve lost weight. 23 pounds, to be exact! I have also completely changed my diet and started being more intentional about exercise, but not consuming 500 extra empty calories each day of mostly sugar has for sure played a huge part in that. Here’s to 23 more! And then 23 more!
4. I’ve stuck with my diet changes of being Vegan and Gluten Free. When drinking, I would easily cave and order pizza on the way home from work (mmmm…. pizza….) and eat it for the next three days. Now, I still crave that cheap, delicious pizza but I have enough will power to say no and eat something nutritious and equally delicious!
5. We are saving a lot of money. Like, A LOT. Not only the money we were spending on alcohol, but the money we are saving from eating out so often, impulse buying while drinking, paying for everyone else’s meals, drinks, etc. The more we hang out with people, the more likely we were to just pay for everyone.
6. My skin is looking better. One of the main ways alcohol leaves your body is through your skin, and my skin had taken a beating. I’ve also gotten really into my skin routine (shout out to Drunk Elephant– I love you) which has for sure made a difference in getting my skin looking vibrant and healthy again.
7. I’ve started to feel real feelings, and be okay with how I’m feeling. It’s more that I’m recognizing the feelings, and allowing them, not shoving them away or covering them up with alcohol. I never learned how to control or accept my feelings, so I’ve always been afraid of them, and afraid of looking weak or out of control. When drinking, any “feelings” that came out could be blamed on the alcohol.
8. I’ve started breaking down the walls that didn’t let the true me out. I’ve noticed I have less inhibitions about who I am, and saying and doing things I would otherwise second guess myself and not do. Jokes, for example. I used to be a big pre-thinker. I would analyze everything I wanted to say first, and if I didn’t think it would make me look stupid or be “wrong”, I wouldn’t say it. Now, I am a lot freer in what I say and do.
9. I have more time. As soon as I’d start drinking, that would be my day’s to-do: keep drinking. All other tasks would go out the window. Sure, I would get a few things done but not nearly as much as I do now. Plus, I have time to just sit down and do “nothing” and not feel guilty about it.
10. I have more will power. I think this is multifaceted – I don’t have the alcohol brain to fight through to do something, and I’m not drowning in depression. I still get fatigued and am still tired, but it’s a lot easier to get myself up off the couch and do the darn dishes (or laundry, or clean, or walk the dog, or clean the darn litter box).

I still have a lot of work to do. I still have a long ways to go and a lot of growing still to do, but I’m on the right path now. I’ve started taking some steps forward, instead of being stuck staring back at where I was and longing for what once was. I’m here now, and I’m moving forward. Thanks for cheering me on and walking with me. Even though I think I want to do it alone, I know I can’t.

Lovin’ Me Some Oils!

I feel like Essential Oils get a bad rap, especially since they are lumped into the Multi-Level Marketing bubble (which I also think gets a bad rap, but I know I may be in the minority on that one!). But I am here to tell you that I LOVE essential oils. I’ve been using them regularly for about 5 years, but recently re-upped my collection and it has renewed my sense of wonder and excitement about them! Below I’ve listed a few of my favorite oils and the way I use them. (**Please note, I am not claiming this to be medical advice in any possible way, just information on how I use essential oils.**)

Over time, I’ve accrued a wide assortment of Young Living Essential Oils, and I am intrigued with the science behind them. I’ve seen some of them work wonders for me. But besides that, I just love having them diffusing at home during the day and night. One of the first diffuser blends I made was Purification and Lemon, and it has stuck as one of my favorites and my normal daytime go-tos. At night, I switch it up between Lavender and Cedarwood. I tend to just keep it simple. Plus, some of them are pretty pricy, so I use those ones sparingly for specific issues. The cool thing about those ones, is that three of those (Lavender, Purification, and Lemon) come in the starter kit, so it’s super easy to get started using (and loving!) them. And Cedarwood is such a good price point for how many uses it has.

One of my absolute favorite oils is Dragon Time. I apply this to my lower abdomen when I have cramps and it helps ease them (well, “ease” is putting it lightly. It makes them vanish. No joke.). Add a heating pad and they are gone, so fast. No Tylenol, no Midol, no suffering, just a natural release. So great. It was one of my first big WOW moments with Essential Oils.

Lavender is also in my top oils for the way it helps me sleep. Dealing with depression for so long really messed up my sleep schedule, and I hate taking sleep meds since I feel so beyond groggy the next morning. Lavender doesn’t just help me fall asleep faster, it makes my sleep more peaceful, deeper, and overall better quality with no “hangover” the next morning. If I don’t diffuse it, I rub a couple drops between my palms and smooth it over my pillowcase. So fresh and pure smelling. Another way I use Lavender oil is if I get a sunburn. I mix up a concoction of Coconut Oil, Vitamin E Oil, a few drops of Lavender to help sooth and nourish the skin, and a few drops of Peppermint Essential Oil to provide a light cooling effect. I call it my miracle sunburn healer because this concoction has prevented so much pain and peeling.

So, do you use Essential Oils? Which ones are you favorite? Are you curious about how they might fit in your life? Where to begin? Let me know!

Let’s Talk About Composting

Let’s talk about Composting! I first heard about composting in 2012 when visiting a friend in Seattle. We had finished eating a meal, and her mom instructed me to toss my food scraps in a separate bin. Um, what? I was confused and a bit disturbed tbh! It seemed so gross. And what was the point? Why not just throw your food away like a normal person??

Flash forward 8 years, and here I am, a composter. Granted, not a very good one, but I’m working on it! I started my compost bin in April of this year and am honestly surprised how much food I have to put in there. I have filled up two bins already!

I’m learning as I go, which is a nice place to be at. I’m not one for not knowing things – I like to either know things and be good at them, or not do them at all. Composting is (strangely) helping me overcome this! I know that no matter what I do, my compost will eventually break down. I can’t really mess it up! But even though it can’t be “messed up”, you can help the compost along to become nutrient rich soil for plants and gardens, which is my ultimate goal.

One of my biggest hurdles with composting is having enough “browns”. For a good, healthy compost, you should be adding an appropriate mixture of “greens” and “browns”. Greens are things you may think of when you think of composting: fruit and vegetable scraps and skins, old herbs, dead flowers, tea bags, coffee grounds, etc. Being vegan and eating a LOT of fresh foods, we have A LOT of greens.

“Browns” are things like dead leaves, hay, paper bags, cardboard, animal shavings (from a chicken coop or goat pen, etc), sticks, and so on.

The ratio I’ve seen should be 1 part Greens to 2 parts Browns. To make up my browns, I use a lot of paper bags (from the grocery store), cardboard boxes, and… well, that’s about it. We don’t have animals that use shavings, we don’t do our own gardening (and honestly I don’t want to keep bags of dead leaves around, so sue me), we don’t even order many things online that would result in much excess cardboard! I do, however, have a ginormous pile of brown paper bags from the grocery stores. Even though we have an equally large collection of reusable bags, we cannot use them right now due to Coronavirus (ugh). Plus there are the times (like every other time lets be honest) I run into the store for 1 or 2 things so I don’t take bags with me, and then end up buying so much stuff and cave and buy paper bags. Or I haven’t restocked my car with bags. Or my husband, who doesn’t tend to keep bags in his car, does the shopping. So many reason why we have so many paper bags, but I digress.

Since composting, I’ve been a real stickler for keeping the paper bags instead of just recycling, so my collection has grown. So big. So so big. We’ve had to move it to the garage. But for good reason! I need the browns!

With composting, it’s a plus if your greens and browns are in small pieces. They just break down faster. I’ve spent HOURS cutting up and ripping up paper bags. It’s hard work! My poor arm muscles can only handle so much! I was reading a reddit post about composting, and someone mentioned they picked up a food processor at a yard sale to help break down their food scraps easier, and a genius idea struck me – A PAPER SHREDDER. (queue the heavenly light shining down on me with that angelic music playing in the background).

But, I didn’t want to spend money on a paper shredder. It seems like such a ridiculous thing to buy. So I held off. I kept ripping up paper bags, little by little. Until I had another stroke of genius! Look on Facebook Marketplace! But then I didn’t. For a long time. I never looked. But then! I did one day! And there was one listed for TEN DOLLARS. So I bought it. I think it has changed my life guys. I’ve shredded so many paper bags already. And having the smaller pieces of “brown” material to so easily mix into my compost bins is going to be huge I think.

I’m still working on getting it just right, and my compost is not even close to being useable in a garden or plant yet, but I know it will get there at some point.

I’ll try and keep posting updates on my compost adventures!

Do you compost? Are you interested in composting?

The Challenge with Blogging

To be totally honest, I’ve started a blog/IG account/Etsy shop or two (or three… or four…) in the past. I’ve had a drive in me to create a place that I can express myself, give my opinions, share what I’ve found that works and what doesn’t, and just overall share my life with others for a pretty long time. And I get super pumped about it. I start it. I come up with a catchy name, I write a compelling first article or post a first picture or add a new creation, and then set it aside.

Then I wait for my creativity to come again.

But that is the problem right there. I don’t always feel creative. I doubt my thoughts and my value, and wait more. I push down ideas. I talk myself out of the next post.

The days pass, life gets in the way, and then I forget about what I’ve started, until eventually the desire comes back and I start over again. So this time, I’m just going to go with it. Some days that may mean something heartfelt and emotional. Some days it will be sharing a quick trick I learned. Somedays I might mean fessing up to my failures. But my goal is to stick with it this time.

Wish me luck!

-Linsey

The Beginning

For almost two years before I was officially diagnosed with depression, I went on a rabbit trail trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I knew I was not normal, not the same as everyone else. My major suspect with a thyroid disorder due to my symptoms, but my lab work all came back normal. I have never been so discouraged in my life.

I eventually began seeing a therapist, we’ll call her Dorothy, once I began suspecting I was suffering from depression. The company I worked for at the time offered a pretty great Employee Assistance Program which allowed for 8 FREE sessions per year per topic, and my husbands company also offered an EAP with free sessions as well. On my first visit, convinced I was depressed, my new therapist had me fill out a questionnaire about my symptoms. I filled it out and handed it back to her.

She stated that based on my answers, I was definitely depressed and delicately suggested I might think about antidepressants. I agreed and let her know that I would make an appointment with my general practitioner, which I did.

Let me rewind a bit. I’ve been conscious about what I put in my body for a very long time, and always scoffed at the idea of people needing medication. I did not make this decision lightly, but also knew that I could no longer manage on my own. I knew meds were the next step to at least get me back to where I could live a semi-normal life. Let me also say that I still think prescription medications are often handed out too quickly and easily, but they do have their place. No shame to anyone on any medication, but I hope everyone does their own research on what is best for them.

A few sessions later when I was feeling a bit better, Dorothy told me that she was so concerned about me after our first session, that if I had not agreed to try medication, she would have hospitalized me because of the danger I was to myself. I had never thought I was that bad off, but looking back, I was. I was just so used to feeling so low that it was my normal.

So it was true: I was depressed. I’ve never really felt ashamed of being depressed even though any mental illness is typically regarded as shameful (absurd as it may be..). But it is who I am. I hope I can recover and get to a point of no longer being depressed, but so far, it’s been an everyday, constant, never-ending struggle. The diagnosis was somewhat of a relief, to finally have an answer. For

Eventually, I realized that Dorothy was not helping me, as much as I loved her. I’ve never gone back to therapy, but I did start seeing a psychiatrist which helped me to figure out my medication situation. But that is a story for a different day. I have not found another therapist yet, but it’s on my list. The process will make it into a blog post, I’m sure. So we all have something to look forward to (kidding, sort of).

Can you relate to when you were first diagnosed? What did you go through to discover the real cause of your issues? Are you still not sure what is the true underlying cause? I’m here for you no matter where you’re at!

-Linsey

A Summer Treat for the Pup.

Kinda of random, I know. But with summer coming up I thought I would share a trick I’ve been using for as long as I can remember with my pup. Now, if your dog is anything like mine, she will love this. And it’s SO EASY. And you decrease your waste! And it’s sort of free! Or at least doesn’t cost anything extra 😉

Strawberries are my favorite fruit, and I am lucky enough to live in an area that is a huge strawberry producer! We have strawberry stands on every corner, and the berries are huge, red, and so so good. I love when summer rolls around so I can gorge myself on them.

So here’s what I do. I soak and wash all of my strawberries (I use the Trader Joes fruit and veggie wash). Then, I cut the tops off and divvy up the berries in ziploc bags. I toss the tops in another ziploc bag, toss in the freezer, and voila! A super simple, healthy, delicious treat for a dog that is easy to grab anytime you want to give your pup a little something special! You don’t even have to worry about the stems – my pup just gobbles it all right up. She is a dog after all and eating some leaves is not very high on her things-to-care-about list.

A well balanced diet for dogs is essential to their health, so make sure not to overdo it with the strawberry tops. Use caution where your dog eats their strawberry treat – the redness can stain!

What are some easy tricks and tips you use for your pets?

-Linsey

An Adventure in Depression

When I was thinking about restarting this blog, I originally wanted it to be mostly focused on depression. The things I had experienced, learned, fought through, suffered through, etc. And depression and my journey with depression will likely be a central theme, but the main thing I want to write about is the journey out of depression.

For too long I’ve let my depression define me. Honestly, it was a relief to finally have a word for what I’d been dealing with. I thought the depression came on as a result of my IUD, but what I’ve learned, much to my shock, was that I’ve actually been depressed for basically my whole life. I never knew, never even fathomed in my wildest imagination, that children can be clinically depressed. The more I’ve learned, the more I’ve come to know that it not only is a thing, but is not uncommon.

If I were to give a general overview of my life, this is what it would be:

I moved to a small Californian beach town at just weeks old. My parents divorced when I was 6 years old. The story with my dad went like this: he met a new lady, and she became a pillar in my life, a second mom. They are still together to this day.

The story with my mom went like this: she had a few relationships and ultimately ended up marrying a man who lived on a farm, and we spent a lot of time outdoors and in nature.

I grew up, moved to Los Angeles. Moved home. Met a guy, got married, then divorced. I partied a little too hard. I went to YWAM, my life was changed. I came home, met a new guy, and got married. Here I am today. Not too bad, right?

But really, in the time from 6 years old until senior year of high school, I lived in too many houses to count (as of today I’m at around house number 33 or so). I never saw my mother in a healthy relationship. My father (the “fun” parent) couldn’t hold a job for very long. He eventually just disappeared out of mine and my brother’s lives. We literally had conversations about how our dad could be dead and we would never know.

My mother’s new husband was never referred to as my stepdad or stepfather, always as my mom’s husband. He was misogynistic. He was a cheater. He was rude, racist, prejudiced. He was pure evil in my eyes. And to top it off, he was a pastor. Yes, this man was conniving and controlling, he was the scum of the earth. He was verbally and mentally abusive towards me. Plus. his face is just ugly to look at.

After several failed attempts to move out of his house and leave him, my mom finally did it my freshman year of high school. Our financial situation went from bad to worse, but I never remember a time being so happy as the first night in our new apartment. We went grocery shopping at midnight, picked out junk food and other essentials, and made a crappy apartment our home. It’s funny looking back that I was never embarrassed of our new home, and I was embarrassed about everything growing up. Eventually, like all the times before, she went back to him.

All this to say, I never had an adult relationship I could look up to, and never had any type of appropriate relationship with an older man. Still to this day, middle aged men make me wary.

When we finally moved out for good, my experience with men had been nothing good, so I of course had no good relationships. I did not know how to be treated by a man, I did not know what made a good relationship. I did not know how to talk about my feelings or express myself. So I chose crap guys to date. I made some really bad choices that I still regret to this day. I truly believed I was never meant for marriage or a relationship (not to mention the fact that nobody every talked to be about being in a relationship. I was embarrassed to even talk about boys with my mom!). Eventually, after years of horrible self talk and believing awful things about myself, I met a guy who, for some reason, wanted to marry me. So I married him. I knew it was wrong. I knew I wasn’t happy. But I honest to God believed I would never find anyone else again.

Well, our relationship sucked, he made me into a person I didn’t like, and created wounds that have healed but are easily opened again. So we divorced. I went into party mode to “make up for the time I had lost being married to that idiot”. I made even worse decisions. I was in my mid-twenties still trying to be the person that other people approved of. I never gave thought to who I actually was or wasn’t, what I believed and what was important to me.

On the brink of total destruction, I ran back to Jesus. It was a miracle. A true miracle. The night it happened, I felt like I was floating because all of the weight I had been carrying for 20+ years had been lifted. It was an experience that I still don’t totally understand, other than knowing that it was God. I left for YWAM shortly after. The way the pieces fell into place can only be explained in that it was the plan all along.

During my time in YWAM, I gave up ever being married again to God. I knew I had majorly sinned by marrying and divorcing (did I mention that my mother has been married 6 times?) and 100% accepted that if I had messed up my chance of being married, I accepted it. When I returned, I re-met my now husband. We are FAR from perfect, but he is truly the love of my life and I don’t know what I would do without him.

My life experiences, along with the millions of other parts of my life I didn’t include, are what lead me to where I am now. A mostly unhappy girl, who struggles immensely with deep, deep depression. My brain never even had the chance to form right. I was exposed to trauma from very early on, and the trauma never stopped. I want to be mad at my mother, mostly, for all of these things, but I’m not. I know she only did what she thought was best, but it wasn’t best. What would have been best would have been to stay with my father. Maybe not best for them, but best for my brother and I. I’m in my thirties now, and feel so messed up.

I live a pretty normal life on the outside, but inside, is a major hole. A black hole called depression. It’s not easy to describe to a person who has never dealt with depression, but my goal is to do my best.

I’m baaaaaaaaaccckkkkk

Considering it has been almost one year to the day that I last posted, I figure a reintroduction is necessary.

I am Linsey (still. I know, crazy right?). I have added one cat to our life, much to my husbands frustration. I have a new job that I love (well technically I had the same job last time I posted, but I never mentioned it. Or maybe I did and I forgot? Either way, its a different job than when I started this blog).

I am still overweight, I am still dealing with my depression. I am still very much introverted and a homebody. Soo not a lot has changed. What will change, however, is the frequency in which I post. *fingers crossed*. I do already have some ideas for upcoming posts, and hope to continue posting regularly. Might even start an instagram account. Who knows! Things could get crazy around here!

The Island

How do you describe being happy? How do you explain sadness? Or fear? How do you describe these things to someone who has never felt them?

This is is how I feel when someone I love asks me how I’m feeling or asks for an insight into what I’m thinking. It’s not words, it’s just there. A big black cloud over your island that feels for you. It takes the option of joy or peace or happiness or even just nothing.

Being depressed is not only the worst because you literally feel like you’re in a never ending gray storm, but also because you are in this gray storm and you know you just need to step out from under it yet you can’t pick up your foot. You don’t deserve to be out from under this storm, but also, yes you do. You know you do. But it’s so heavy on you you don’t even want to try to move your foot.

Some days you have the gusto to try and open your umbrella and fight against the torrential downpour. You know you’re going to get soaked anyways but you still want to try. You know an umbrella works, after all.

Some days all you want to do is just stand in the storm. You don’t want to fight it, you don’t want to try and control it, you just surrender to it while knowing that that is exactly what you’re doing. You’re giving in. It’s a sweet relief to stop fighting and just be there in it.

Some days, you hope and pray and beg with all your might that the storm will finally just overcome you and drown you and sweep you out to sea. This is the hardest to explain. You know you can keep fighting that umbrella. You know you can even just go on standing in the storm. But even just standing in the storm takes effort. And you don’t want to put even one more little drop of effort into anything. You want to let go.

Each day it goes on and on, pouring down on you. You try to control how you’ll feel each day, but it doesn’t seem to matter what you do, you can’t control how you’ll react. You exercise. You eat healthy. You take your drugs. Your pray. You meditate. You clear your mind. Your let it all out. You get tons of sleep. You talk about it. But still, the next day is always a surprise.

In each of these storms, just across the way, is everyone I love. There aren’t many, but there are the ones I need. The ones who keep me standing, who keep me fighting. As easy and carefree as it would be to just let go and let the storm take me, there are the few who keep me holding on. And I want to let go. I want to be swept away into nothingness. But my love, dim as it may be, anchors me to these people.

Im so sick. I’ve been standing in this storm for far too long. I know that one day I will let go. I’ll just let go and surrender to the rushing sea. I’ll hate myself for it. I’ll wish I could find my way back while also knowing there is no way back. I hope against all hope i don’t get there, that I’ll have a lifeline thrown my way. That someone will see that I’m stuck and toss me a bouy.

In real life, I’m making my way towards a mental health break. A retreat of sorts. I need it. I need it so bad. I’ve got to get help.

 

 

But why kill yourself? Just call the suicide hotline.

Tonight as I was scrolling through Facebook, I came across a story on our local news of a police officer who committed suicide. My first feeling is that of empathy. I know what it feels like to want it to end. Not sympathy; I feel his pain, sadness, and hopelessness deep inside. I don’t feel sorry for him. I understand why he did what he did, as horrible as it is. As sad and confusing and devastating as it is. 

The very first Facebook comment reads “Thank you for your service! I am so sorry you felt there was no way out 😦 May you always rest in Paradise”

This is a huge misunderstanding of suicide. Or at least for me it is. I don’t feel like there isn’t another “way out”. I feel like there are plenty of ways out but none are worth trying for. Or I’ve tried so hard and for so long that I just don’t WANT to try anymore. I want relief. I want a quick end to my suffering. When the drugs aren’t working and your “happy thoughts” fall flat and mean nothing to your messed up brain, you just want sweet relief. Suicide is selfish. You truly are thinking about yourself only. But you know what? Sometimes it’s nearly impossible to think of anyone else BUT yourself. Your brain gets so stuck on this empty, blank slate that is somehow also so full and overwhelming. 

Yes, there are many “ways out”. 

Call the suicide hotline. When? On my lunch break from work? Hiding from my husband in my room? Do I take a drive to have some privacy? I don’t even have anything to say. 

Seek medical attention. Uh, have you tried making an appointment with a doctor recently? When the next appointment is in three weeks, what are you supposed to do? If you’ve changed your meds or started new meds, the doctor tells you there will be an “adjustment period” that’s totally normal and you might feel worse before you feel better. Soo how long is this adjustment period normal? 
Talk to a friend or loved one. It’s hard to explain to someone how you are feeling when they have no experience that is the same. I was a disbeliever too. Just buck up. It’s not that bad. Meds are for fakers. Blah blah blah. Now I know. I know you can’t help it. But the comforting words from friends and family don’t help. Sorry friends and family – I wish I knew what you could say too. 

Exercise more (my favorite)! Oh yes. Because as if dragging myself out of bed, getting ready, going to work, acting “fine” all day, talking to people, coming home and doing housework isn’t enough, I need to dig down deep and find the energy to workout. Right. 
The fact is that sometimes, after so long of feeling so bad when you KNOW you should feel better, after so much faking it, after so many silent tears and numb emotions, you want relief. You want peace. No, of course suicide is not the answer. But we also know that it’s not a “way out”.