You said it was all over, you were going to leave. You couldn’t stand it anymore: the ups and downs, the low self-esteem, the whining. You couldn’t stand me anymore. You didn’t know how you had held on for so … Continue reading The Conversation that Never Happened
Sometimes I wonder if it’s my own fault when I’m depressed. Shouldn’t I have seen it coming? And if I did, what if I had acted differently to prevent it from getting worse? I shouldn’t have crawled back into bed. … Continue reading Is it My Fault I’m Depressed?
I had to lie to someone. Granted, it was a complete stranger. It might even be what some would consider a trivial, excusable “white lie.” But it’s still eating me up inside, although not as much as the reason I … Continue reading “I’m Okay”: The Lie We All Tell
I have a bottle containing five Ativan pills, in case of emergency. There are only five because I am afraid that I might try to overdose if I had a month’s supply. I previously had thirty pills, and I became … Continue reading Sometimes You Need to Take the Ativan
I’m thinking it, but somehow I just can’t say it. I can reach for you; I can hold your hand. But I can’t say those words. You have an appointment. Maybe even a very important one. But you have to realize that this is more important: it’s a matter of life and death. If I can realize it, you can too. Or maybe you have to learn it. This is the first time, but it won’t be the last.
You are on your way somewhere else, going out, for that thing you have to do. You think I’m not feeling great, but I’ll be okay, like I usually am after a while. You let go of my hand, edge toward the door so you can put on your jacket.
What happens if you leave?