emptying out

I've been debating what to put into words. Sometimes I've wanted to write that I feel so much better and much stronger! And sometimes I've wanted to write that I feel like I'm the worst I've ever been, that I'm at my wit's end, that there's either something very, very wrong with my body or else my mind. I'm beginning to think that the bulk of my persistent symptoms could be caused by depression. Because why else? I don't know. I wish I did. I have been in the very darkest corners of my head and heart the past two months and I'm pretty sure I'm not out of the woods yet. I am uncomfortably vulnerable to both my continuing physical weaknesses and my psychological ones. I think I'm going to need some serious help and some serious time to sort through all that has been happening to and within me. I keep finding myself sobbing on the floor, just wanting to get away from myself. And you can't, you never can. The good news is that S is ALWAYS there for me, always patient and gentle and persistent even when I'm snapping wildly. And the good news is that today's the last day of work til the new year, and I do hope that the easing pressure of full days at work will help to ease some of the pressure on the rest of me. And more good news: I am feeling stronger physically. That's not even false optimism. And. I know that if I do indeed need serious intervention and serious time to heal and recover, I can have that. I have two families and an incredible husband who will help me get the help I need and won't leave me floundering. I may need a whole winter to regain my footing. I've got to be willing to give that up.