Not out of the woods yet
You tell yourself it doesn't matter, but of course it does. It's always mattered. You've just never allowed it to matter, because you felt it would be petty. People have better things to do with their time. They're busy. They can't pander to you. You shouldn't expect them to drop everything just for you. Blah blah blah blah blah. But deep inside the message you hear is, "I'm not important enough for this person to care."
As I was driving back tonight I could see myself slamming into the road divider, see twisted metal, see THE END. It comes sometimes, this thought, although I know I could never do it on purpose. If anything like that were to happen, it would have to be accidental. But, oh, so easy to let the steering wheel slip from my grasp going round a corner, don't you think?
Yup, this blog is definitely getting depressing, all right. Sheesh.
Karen recently quoted the author Peter Brain on tips for helping those with depression:
Don't say, "I'm here if you need me" or "let me know if we can help". Some days it is impossibly difficult even to pick up the phone.
She added, "I am fortunate enough to have friends who have told me that I can ring them up at three in the morning if necessary but often I won't ring them because, as he says, sometimes it's 'impossibly hard' and I have absolutely no motivation to do so."
I agree with her. When I need someone to talk to, I rarely call, for fear that they will tell me they're too busy to talk to me. Already struggling, I couldn't handle rejection on top of that, so I don't put myself in a position where I could be rejected.
Not that I believe people would deliberately reject me... but you see, sometimes the response is not meant as a rejection, yet it feels like one to me. Like when a friend said, "Let's meet up, then you can tell me what's wrong. Maybe sometime next weekend," and I thought: "If I were really suicidal, I could be DEAD by next weekend! Which part of 'suicidal' did this person not understand?!"
Anyway... I am not sure anymore if all this is a cry for help or just a way of seeking attention. Part of me thinks I'm being a drama queen and tries to trivialise it all. The other part tells me this is real and serious and tells me I am on dangerous ground.
In any case, I have a counselling appointment on Tuesday morning with the wife of the Bishop of the Methodist Church in Malaysia. Yup, you heard me right. The wife of the Bishop!!! *freaks out*
A friend who reads this blog (thanks, dear!) helped arrange this appointment for me. I'm now trying hard not to think of my future counsellor as "the Bishop's wife" coz I don't think that would help me feel comfortable around her. Issues with authority figures and all that. *rueful smile*
Also discussed with another friend, YY (a medical doctor), the possibility of seeing a psychiatrist. Who knows, maybe medication might be one of the answers. I'm willing to give it a try, anyway. YY said he'll help me make an appointment to see one of his colleagues.