when your only option is through.

Posted bycasey coombsPosted indepression

My dad does this thing where if I complain about something he comes back with “Well at least you…”

“It’s so hard having Cody gone at school all the time.”

“Well at least you know where he is, he’s not off in Afghanistan somewhere getting shot at.”

“Addie won’t sleep, she’s up crying every night and I don’t know what to do.”

“Well at least you have a baby, imagine all those moms with dead babies.”

We all kind of hate it. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s true or because it hurts so bad to be told your pain and difficulties aren’t all that valid because someone out there has it worse.

I remember in high school a time that I took a lot of pills. A lot. I’m not entirely sure what my goal was in doing it, I was an angsty teenager desperate for attention. I remember arguing with my mom, her berating me for being so distant, when I told her about the pills. She got this look on her face, so disgusted with me. All she could say was “Why the hell would you do that?”

There came a point in my relationship with my mom that I wouldn’t talk to her without a licensed therapist between us. She got us in with someone and when that someone came to the conclusion that something more needed to be done, medicinally,we never returned to the therapist again.

Obviously these are my memories of occasions, I’ve never really discussed them at length with either of my parents. And it’s not my intention to hurt them or paint them in a bad light. They were both raised so differently than one another and I realized a long time ago that there comes a point where I can’t blame my parents anymore because my life isn’t what I expected. They both did the best they knew how with the anomaly that was me.

When I was younger I could mask the pain I’m feeling now with alcohol, drugs and boys. I still remember the first time I had to face my real feelings head on without the perceived safety of reckless behavior.

It was like running full force into a brick wall.

That is how it still feels when I come up against this.

There’s no easy way to cover up this kind of pain and sadness. There’s no bandaid for depression. Alcohol and drugs were crutches for me, they held me above the misery long enough to get through another day.

When it comes to depression there’s only a very long, ugly, dark and uncertain road back to a place you think you remember.

I don’t know why this disease chose me. I don’t know how bad mine is compared to every one else’s but I don’t really care.

I hurt right now. And there’s no quick and easy way out of it that won’t cause pain to either myself or those around me.

The only way is through.

23 weeks.

And I’m fighting like hell to make it.

93 thoughts on “when your only option is through.”

  3. You keep fighting the battle dear. You have so many people rooting for you and willing you to get better. I feel I am heading towards my dark place for sometime now and trying my fecking hardest not to go there. Best wishes Casey.

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  5. I’ll keep on walking and you keep on walking and someday, maybe, hopefully the sun will shine again and we’ll both be “better”.

    You broke my heart in your last post when you talked about how you cling to your husband because he’s the only real thing when you’re lost. I’ve caught so much crap from friends and family for burying myself in my husband when I’m feeling broken. But trying to be independent doesn’t help – knowing that I have someone I can be dependent on, knowing that someone knows how broken I am and loves me anyway, THAT helps. Thank you for saying it so much better than I ever could.

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  6. Beautiful photograph. Stop fighting it, go with the flow. Once you hit rock bottom it can only go up from there. Being depressed is a no mans land. You need to go through it to reach the other side, and it sucks to be in no mansland, but going backwards is no option… The other side will be better. I promise you. Trust your body and go with your gut feeling. We are all thinking about you, even if that does not change reality now. It will get better! I know! I was there. It will get better. Cross my heart or…

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  7. I was thinking today about how to describe being depressed to people who don’t get it. You put into words things that I’ve fought so hard to describe. It may be cliche, and it most likely doesn’t help, but please know that I thank you for writing this stuff. You give me a voice…

    ❤

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  8. YOU can do it! There is a light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. It might be small, and you might not be able to see it right now, but it is there. Every step you take, every minute that passes by brings you closer to that light. Keep looking, it is there. (((Huge Hugs)))

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  9. I call my episodes “the blues”. They are really more than that but it makes it easier for me to deal with if a put a “cute” label on it. I have no words of wisdom but please know that there are stranger/friends pulling for you to find sunshine on the other side of the dark tunnel.

    Hugs from Florida!

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  13. Please keep fighting through. Praying for you, everytime I think of you (which is often). Praying for peace to fill your heart, soul, and mind.

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  17. Bah. I don’t know you really, but it hurts that you hurt.

    And if I weren’t just some chick that creeped on your blog now and then and I knew you well enough, I’d send you a children’s book that a friend who had been through crap sent me when I was going through crap.

    It’s called “We’re going on a bear hunt.” It’s a short children’s board book about just this–going through stuff that there is no other way around.

    Maybe it’s the thought that counts.

    Pullin for ya.

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  19. And we’re all here rooting you on, holding you up as best we can with our prayers.

    You can do this Casey. You have before, and you can again. No, I know it’s not that easy, but you can.

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  21. Keep fighting like hell, mama!

    This is the first post I have ever read of yours and just by this post, I can tell you have a beautiful soul.

    When I struggle with my depression (and boy do I struggle, thank GOD for supportive husbands) I lean on prayer, chocolate and one moment at a time.
    BIG SUPPORTIVE HUGS being sent your way!!!

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  23. Uh-Oh, a cave. a dark scary cave.
    You can’t go over it.
    You can’t go under it.
    You’ll have to go through it.

    Remember the light–and peace for the journey.

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  25. Oh, girl, can I relate.

    My mom and I are like that. SHe once told me, upon finding Zoloft (that I felt I needed to hide in my cabinet–as an ADULT!) that I wasn’t “any better than my addict sister”.

    It hurt. SO, so much.

    And so did the multitude of thoughtless “at least you have two kids–some infertiles get none” when I was trying to become pregnant with S. When I miscarried our honeymoon baby.

    I understand all too well, Casey. And you are right–through it is the only way.

    I am here to hold your hand in cyberspace, should you need it.

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  26. As you have beautifully quoted, “Everything will be ok in the end. If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.” Words to live by. I wish you nothing but the best, from the bottom of my heart.

    Love,

    Sarah

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  27. Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve been to your blog and it feels like a different place now. I had actually never heard of antenatal depression, but I thank you very much for having the courage to discuss this in your blog. I’m pregnant right now, too, and am having a lot of the same feelings that you’re discussing. I think the important thing in a time like this is to not isolate yourself and to keep in touch with every positive social support that you have – although maybe not your parents. 🙂

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  29. I know. I am so sad that this is happening you, but I’m there with you in spirit, nodding in agreement and holding your hand. Keep pushing through, you’ll find the light soon.

    Love, hugs and prayers.

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  35. I’ve been through, and through, and through again, more times than I can count. It’s hell.

    You can do it. You can make it through, even if it’s just one minute at a time.

    Thank you for letting your readers give you some virtual support, and not suffering in silence.

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  36. I keep wondering the same thing, with both of my diseases: Why me? Like, how the hell does it happen? Why me, and not my sister? What’s different in our biological makeup that spared her from this, yet gave her some other problems (like her multiple mouth surgeries), and spared me from them?

    I’m finding more and more lately though that I have an easier time facing it head on. Well, okay, not yesterday, but definitely today. I even made a video and said, “Yep, I’m nervous.” Admitting it and saying it out loud were really freeing, even though it sucks to now feel nervous.

    We will make it through. I’m here for you! Hugs and love.

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  39. Fight on, my friend, fight on. We’re all here cheering for you and ready to help you up when you’re ready. Others have said it…a person’s pain is their pain. There is no contest for who has it worst.

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  40. So often I wish I could write in a way that would articulate exactly what is going on inside of me so that those around me would be able to understand me more, possibly. Needless to say it isn’t one of my gifts and in turn I often feel trapped inside of myself. I read your blog often as you are able to express yourself so freely and more often then not I feel as though I am reading EXACTLY how I feel at the present time or how I have felt. I don’t know why or how you write your posts as they fillet you to the rest of the world, but I want you to know, that I am grateful for your willingness to be as open as you are. To share what you are all about. I am always in awe at how those who experience emotions on such an intense level often times feel so alone, yet in reality we aren’t, there are so many out there who understand us; unfortunately so many of us aren’t as willing and or capable of sharing as you are.
    Emotions are hard, they are real, they are powerful and so are the urges that are connected to each emotion that we feel.
    I am very aware of this as I have climb one of the toughest battles I will probably ever face and that is the healing process of placing my 2nd daughter for adoption and 6months later finding myself at the starting gate of a custody case my ex started that I was not aware would last for over 2yrs. I am currently waiting for the judges ruling for the trial that took place December 9th 2010.
    Thank you again Casey for being so open. I can only hope that you are openly blessed for all of your efforts, that you are able to be comforted and that the burdens your pass through may be lightened.

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  42. I sat across from my therapist one day wondering how I could even *think* of my pain when I considered my friend who had a terminal illness. Her words rang thru me and I still hear them today when I minimize my stuff: it is not a competition. It is not a competition.

    Sure, some people have it suckier. That does not, however, negate my pain or experiences. It is not a competition.

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  43. I understand what you are saying here. I survived many years of abuse and the only way to heal from it has been to keep going. The only way out is through. You will make it. Keep going. I love the Winston Churchill quote, “When you find yourself going through hell, keep going.”

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