I'm just going to write this out ok?  I'm not going to go back and reread it or do spell check or anything like that.  I just need to say some things. 

My husband is leaving again for the weekend.  For the funeral of his sister's father in law. 
We have spent alot of time talking about him.  The profound affect he had on people.  How much he was loved.

The last time I saw him was last summer when a group of us went camping. 

I was in such a bad place at the time.

I remember that we had a few conversations.  I couldn't even hear his words.  All I kept thinking was...

"He would never be this kind to me if he saw inside my heart.  If he knew about my darkness.  I'm not fit to even stand this close to such a amazing person.  I'm not worthy enough to breathe the same air as he does."

It was hard to look him in the eye.  I was afraid he would see right through me.  I was afraid everyone would.  So I stayed away.  Kept to myself.  Buried my face in a book. 

I can't even tell you what my last conversation with him was.

That hurts so much. 

I should have been soaking it up.  Smiling along with him.  Catching his joy for life and holding on to it.

 Instead, I felt nothing.  Worse then nothing actually.  I felt like a fraud.  I kept thinking...

 "He thinks i'm a good person.  But I'm not.  He's only talking to me because there is no one else around.  I'll try to say what I have to say really fast with short sentences so he can finish up with me and  talk to someone more interesting.  Some one more funny/ better/ kinder/ smarter/ pretty/ spiritual/ less dull then me."




So I missed it.  And now he's gone.  And I would do anything to have one more conversation with him. 

I know I'm not the only one. 

His family is grieving.  Hard.  He was a incredible man.   And even despite all thier greif....they took the time to tell my husband to give me a hug.  To tell me they love me.  And that they can't wait to see me again. 

And for a minute I fell back into that bad place.  Thinking...Surely they don't really mean it.  How could they?

It's so hard to believe that anyone loves me.  Or even likes me for that matter.  But I have to get past that.  I have to start believing it.  Because I have miss so much.  And that is even more depressing then feeling unloved.

And please understand the " not loved" feeling is absolutely not from the lack of love shown to me.  Which doesn't make a whole lot of since I know.  It's the numbness of not feeling anything and feeling so bad about myself, truly feeling that I don't deserved to be loved.  So I deny people that.  And that's not fair to them.

Or to me.



I need to let people in. I need to believe that they care for me. That they like me.  I need to feel like I deserve it.  But even as I typed that I want to erase those words.  Why do I feel so undeserving of love?  I guess I know why....my mistakes, the deadness I have felt, my selfishness in wanting to run away, leave everyone behind and not look back.  I don't feel those things anymore.  I'm not that person anymore.  But I was.  And those feelings could and most likely will come back.  I try to fight them.  But it feels like drowning and after struggling for so long it's so hard not to give up.  Let it go.  Let the surface light fade away.  The darkness feels more like home then the light.
Thats why it's hard to believe someone would love me.

Because I'm not that person but I am that person.    Depression is part of me.  It's not who I am.  But it is a big part of me.  It shapes me.  Through therapy I'm learning survival tactics.  How to fight harder.  How to cope.  How to not let it rob me of my life. 

I should probably wrap this up.  If I reread it I will erase the whole thing so I hope that it makes a bit of since.  If not, oh well. 

My heart feels a little lighter.  I'll be ok.  Some days are just....heavy.  And everything hits me so hard I want to crumble. 

So I write.  And I hope that when I look back on this post a year or even a few months from now... I'll see how far I have come. 

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