Here's my question

I don't think it's a question that has a real answer, but I have to ask it anyway...and I might as well write about it here, on my blog, which is the current source of frustration.

What do you do when you want to delete a whole part of your life, because it was so unimaginably serene while you were in it, but after the fact, the pain that comes from its existence is too excrutiating to bear. In my own life, I am handling the pain by pretending it is not there, by choosing to feel nothing so I don't crumble from the pain. The apathy that ensues is just as, if not more, crippling. But I've put off the pain so long that I don't know how to feel it. So I choose apathy by default.

But when it comes to cyberspace, there are the unmistakable and undeniable traces of the life you used to live, represented in words, and even worse, in pictures, which scream thousands of words with one glance. But you can't delete that part of your life, because it happened. And you're glad it did, because it proves, to yourself more than to the world, that you were living. The whole blog page filled with what was, but no longer is...so do you delete those posts? No. You delete the blog. Then recover it five minutes later because you can't delete the stupid blog. Even though you hardly post on it, and when you do it's only to share wonderful and happy pictures of wonderful memories. So it's not that much apart of my life, except when life is going exceptionally well. But when life is not, I come and look at it anyway, and the disparity kills me.

I don't really look at other people's blogs, because usually they only post the pleasant stuff too, and that disparity is insufferable. I check my sisters blogs at least every week, because the pictures of their little babies is one of the three things that keeps me going...the reminder that happiness and joy and newness of life in all it's simplicity and purity DOES exist.

The other two things that keep me alive: the Gospel of Jesus Christ: temples, the scriptures, crying to my Father in prayer. Knowing that even in the midst of suffering I am not alone, for my Redeemer has already descended below all things. That here in my own Gethsemane, there is Someone who knows that place.

And finally, my support system. My Mom, my sisters, my other family members, my friends, my home teachers, ward members. The tricky part about this one is that it is fluid, it is not constant. Each person out there has a blog of her own, a life of his own, responsibilities and concerns of their own. They cannot support me and hold me up, especially because most of the time I don't let them, because I can't tell them, or because even if they were here...I haven't the foggiest of what they could do. But someone always comes through, and for all of you that are out there that have, and do, and will, I am extremely grateful.

The most difficult thing about having depression, I must come out and say it right now...that is why I must rely on the three aforementioned things, because I am utterly and deeply immersed in this severe disorder...right now more than at other times, but less than it was when it was worse. It is as an undulation that controls my life. A wave, no a stormy sea of towering waves, and I am tossed to and fro, and my body and mind are battered and bruised and torn on every rock.

Pause for a moment: I usually don't write about this on my blog...I usually don't share this publicly...ever. But last year I started writing in my journal about the negative stuff, to come to an acceptance of the fact that it is part of my life. But if I really accept it, which I am working on right now, then I will not be afraid to share it, so I continue...

The most difficult thing about having depression is having to be dependent.  Dependent on medication, because when you don't take it, you are a wreck...an complete, scary, dangerous wreck. in episodes such as this, you are starving. Because you don't eat. Because you can't get out of bed. Your bones ache from being in the same position all day long. You are exhausted from doing nothing all day. You need to go to the bathroom, but wait and wait and hold it because you hear voices outside your door, somewhere in your apartment, and you cannot be seen. You are despicable. You look disgusting. You feel disgusting. It is so hard because you need others to take care of you, but they don't. Utterly and totally dependent at times on something that is so inconsistent: people. And you are so inconsistent yourself, because though "being with people" is what you need the most, but it's the thing you want the least. You avoid phone calls, because you don't know what to say. You pretend to be asleep, or going to sleep, every time someone approaches. You plan things, fun things, with people, that you genuinely want to do...yearn to do...but then you can't make it...because the anxiety is to great. You are a disappointment to people. You let them down, constantly. You don't tell them you need help, and when you do, you have no idea what they could possibly do to help. It kind of goes down to Maslow's hierchy of needs: you need food. You are starving.

I am starved.
I am dehydrated.
I need food.

Luckily, I have dinner group, and that saves me, because I have a good, balanced meal three times a day. I also have a bag of cereal next to my bed, and in my car, so I can grab at it when it's absolutely unbearable. I have food in the fridge and on the shelves that spoils because I can't get out there to eat it. And when I do, I can't get myself to put anything together, or search through to see what food is mine, because I don't know what's there, and I'm so hungry. I'm so thirsty.

That's my greatest need, but how do you tell people that you are starving? Do you expect them to bring you food like you've been in the hospital? Because that's ridiculous! You are 22 years old and in college, that is something that should be so simple. Do you need to be admitted to a hospital, so they will bring you meals three times a day? Or an IV? Because for goodness sakes, I'm not anorexic, I could care less about body image. I need to eat, but have no desire, because that's what depression does to you: APATHY. And when the apathy's not there, it's anxiety. And then despair. Because you've been doing pretty well, you got out of your house almost every day this week, and when you're out of the house, you can get fast food. Fast food makes you broke over time, though, and that's scary. Thank goodness I'm starting this job next week--I can get some money. But for goodness sakes, how am I supposed to be responsible and have a job if I can hardly move to feed myself?

These are the questions that make my mind spin and my head ache. The ones that convince me that it's easier if I curl up in my bed and try to sleep. Even though I've already slept 14 hours, maybe I can snag another 2, because though the dream world is often no more comforting than the real world, at least they are not conscious torments.

Back to the original question, how do you delete a relationship from your life...one that is not working, that only really worked for a couple of weeks, and for that couple of weeks you got a couple of great pictures? How do you sever ties with someone who took such good care of you and made sure you were fed and gave you a reason to get out of your room, because thank goodness, he's not allowed to cross the Honor Code line? How do you stop an unhealthy dependency on another human being for such basic needs as food, water, security, and love? How can you prevent yourself from becoming too dependent again, when you have no idea when this episode will end, and when the next one will hit? How can you rely on people when they are so fickle, and when they are steady, you shy away from their help? How can you move foward and hope for a brighter day when this one is so dark, because you've only got up twice and neither of them even took you close to a window to show that the sun is still there, because it's daytime, even if the cloud are hiding the sun's rays. How can you make the decision to take one more step?

That was a lot of questions, and I don't think anyone can really help me with the answers. but in response to the last one...here's what convinces me that just one more step is what I need to do:

1) These pictures

2) This video

3) And this fact: I just talked to my mom, and she told me that very thing. And I know she's praying for me right now.

I didn't read over anything I just wrote. But I'm posting it anyway; because it's about time my blog reflects what my life is: a broken, difficult, but redemptive process of not understanding, but feeling peace, and finding the strength to move on every time. And a determination that I will keep moving forward, as they say in "Meet the Robinsons"...every time. And as I move forward, I will remain, always Aubs.