Everyday when my husband walks in the door from work, he asks me "How was your day"? All I hear is……please fill me in on your "mood" for the day so I can prepare myself for the appropriate responses. Poor, sweet man. I really do love that he cares enough to want to know where my head is at, but at the same time, I hate feeling pittied. He doesn't understand depression and yet he keeps trying. Most of the time I try to hide my dark days from him, for his benefit and because I can't stand the sound of my voice when I am complaining about how I am sad again, for the thousandth time. Plus I hate that question. How are you? everyone always says "fine". I always want to say…..well actually I am feeling shitty and hopeless….and you?
He will never know how many times I have planned out my own death. Most of my plans are very selfless I must say. My driving off a bridge plan always involes our old car, so he and the kids will still have the nice one. Or my plan to dig a ditch deep in the woods, lay in it with a big pill meal. Or my train idea, I could jump in front of it as it goes by. He will never know these ideas that run through my head, because it would scare him too much I think.
No one knows I think these things, I guess that's why depression is lonely. You can't tell people without them trying to fix you or treat you like your crazy. If I am going to go, it's better to be a shock than to drag people through the ringer of being scared and worried all the time for you.
Anyway, I guess my point is, even if you have people that love you and you love all around you, it doesn't mean you still can't be lonely. Depression is a lonely dark place, I want the least amount of people as possible to climb in this mess with me.