Once I was ill with a fever so my Dad took me to the hospital. A nurse asked me the age old question: “how are you”? I told her I was fine because that’s the expected answer but I wondered why she couldn’t see that I was sick.
That’s how it feels these days. Everyone asks me how I’m doing and I tell them I’m fine. Or that I’m not dead, if I wish to be honest. I’m not fine. I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, and then I wasn’t. My mom called. I can’t remember who she called to complain about. It was my Dad or my sister or her work or something. It was one of those conversations where I hold the phone away from my ears till I’m sure she’s done because listening hurts and makes me sick. (I don’t want to know how disrespectful Reigneth is. I don’t want to know if anything is wrong at home. Why did you think I crossed the Atlantic?) Then it was the weekend and my brother wouldn’t go to church with me. Then it was Wednesday and I went to church. Then I broke. I had to leave before everyone else so no one would see how hard I was crying.
I’ve gone back to those days time and time again to see what went wrong. Crickets. But my moods have been wrong since then. Sometimes I feel good. I feel very good. The world looks beautiful. And sometimes I feel so depressed my chest hurts. What causes the mood swings? I’ll tell you when I figure it out. Sometimes I just hurt (psychological pain, I was told). I know what causes that one at least – thinking about how sad I am.
What to do. I’ve gotten myself a doctor. They made me spend an entire week in the hospital so they could help. That was one wasted week. I don’t feel any different. Well, that’s not true. My mood swings used to come in 5-day intervals. Now it changes a few times every day. I feel good, then I feel bad, then I wonder what the point of living is. Then, suddenly, I feel good again. Hopefully it never reaches the point where I feel depressed permanently.
A lot of the time I was in the hospital I was inundated by a feeling of helplessness. In my head I was running in circles screaming “What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” They were giving me drugs, making me attend useless group therapy sessions and stupid Tai Chi classes. None of that was helping. Counseling isn’t helping either. So, what do I do? What do I do? What else can I do that I haven’t tried? My doctor wants me to return next week so she can increase my dosage. Ha! That depends on my making it till next week. She doesn’t seem to have my sense of urgency.
I was standing on a balcony today and I saw myself jumping. It was scary. But that’s the problem. What else do I do? What are my other options? There’s that stupid thing they keep telling me about suicide being a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Well, if I wanted a solution I wouldn’t want it to be temporary! But maybe they mean that if I just wait, I’ll eventually feel better. Well, try being me for a day – see how patient you are. It’s not hope I lack like everyone seems to think. I have great hope that there exists some day in the future when I don’t feel depressed.
I’ve been told I have a simple problem: I don’t have a strong goal in life. I want to get married and have children. I want to please God. But those aren’t strong enough. I need something to keep me going even when things are rough. I also have a hormonal imbalance that the right drugs can fix. Like hell! By the time they figure out which drug is the right one and how many tablets to prescribe I’ll probably be dead. And there’s the problem again. What do I do? I don’t have any ideas and I don’t think anyone else does either. Their efforts to help so far have only hurt.
Right now I’m just taking it one day at a time. I’ve dropped some classes so I can have more free time. Then I can watch movies when I’m depressed and study when I feel better. I’m not cooking. I’ll eat in the school Cafeteria. I don’t care how expensive it is. I have to prepare for tests on Monday, Wednesday and Friday next week. All my hope is in God. That’s where it’s secure. Besides, this is more his problem than mine. He loves me. He’s not supposed to give me anything I can’t handle. It’s his name I will disgrace if I kill myself. It’s him I will hurt. He’s the one who will look weak and incapable and heartless – because I have no strength but his. God save me, I want to do the right thing. At least one part of me does. The others just want to feel better.
So I wait on him. And right now I feel safe that way. Someday I’m going to feel better and some stupid person is going to tell me that God had nothing to do with my healing. (Haha) Right now I have to go find a goal for my life. So, now you know that I’m not okay. Stop asking me how I am.