After yesterday, part of me wants to go away and hide. Part of me wants explanations. Part of me is scared: what about all the other people in my life who suffer from depression or other mental illnesses? Are they safe?
A large part of me is tempted to stop blogging. What does this matter? I know intellectually there are people who read this blog (I have friends whom I know do, we sometimes talk about it), but so often I feel like I am speaking into a void. Even more often, I question if what I am writing is anything anyone wants to read. Do any of you really want to know my political or philosophical opinions or the cute things my kids say? Is my writing at all compelling?
Is the Internet a real place?
I could take a break, but I have a strong feeling that if I took a break I might never come back here.
This post is not a ploy to get sympathy. I also am not fishing for compliments, or even feedback (unless you want to). I am just venting, as is my wont.
Besides, if I get this out, maybe I'll feel less despondent.
Edited to add: yes, it helped a great deal.*
*So did looking at Facebook and getting all indignant over some piece of stupidity running around.
Part of me is scared: what about all the other people in my life who suffer from depression or other mental illnesses? Are they safe?
ReplyDeleteI can relate to that one. There was a point in recent months where I was worried about the simultaneous active suicidal ideations of 5 people close to me. I remember feeling scared at how much I was beginning to numb out to the needs of the 5th, who was less close to me than the other 4. And all this was on top of Glen's suicide (which we just passed the 6 month anniversary of, sigh) and Rich's much longer ago suicide that Glen's brought back sharp memories of.
It is much easier having suicidal clients than suicidal loved ones... the clients are explicitly asking for my help, by definition.
- love, the resident shrink
don't stop blogging
ReplyDelete