It never ceases to amaze me when after writing something like I wrote yesterday, I find people in the same boat as me or people willing to help me or each other. I am truly blessed to have you all here and to be able to share my experiences with and to hear your own honest accounts of what you go through and how you deal with it.
You. Give. Me. Hope.
I want to speak to the idea of hope right now. This morning I had an exchange with my mom about her leaving that was hard and brought me to tears. The content of that exchange isn't important. What is important though is that I was broken hearted, depressed, crying and just generally in a bad place. My husband, Dan, said to me,
"How long is this going to go on? Is this going to go on the rest of our lives? Do I need to prepare myself for you to be depressed and possibly kill yourself in the years to come because you can't stop being depressed?"
I explained to him, as I have a thousand times, that my pain just from losing my dad alone is valid and it's going to be here a while but there is also the big unknown of where Thomas' illness will lead us and yes, losing my mom being around me is going to make me sad for a while. I told him that he just doesn't understand how I feel because he has never lost someone he loved.
He told me that I needed to just let it all go and to give up hope that things are going to be different.
Give up hope?
Wow. Give up hope. You mean give up the one and only thing that keeps me moving forward all the time? Give up on believing that what I am doing with my blog is a good thing and that it's helping others? Give up on my dreams of being a writer even as I was just asked the other day to write another guest blog for PsychCentral.com? Give up hope?
Sorry, not going to happen. It's all I have. When Thomas was going through getting started on Clozaril and he was getting sicker and sicker, I had my days where I felt hopeless but did I make my life about that? No! How can you do that when it's all you have. I had to hang on to the fact that clozaril was going to be the answer if we just give it time. I watched as Thomas declined and I didn't know what his future held but I had to believe, somewhere deep down inside, that it would get better.
Then came Latuda.
I didn't know I was hoping for this new medication specifically but I knew there was an answer somewhere and now, in a little dull green 160mg pill, I have my boy back.
I can't give up hope and I never will. There will be losses but in their place there will be gains and giving up on believing in those gains just isn't in my nature. I refuse to live my life totally hopeless. Even now, as I deal with what I deal with, I am not giving up. I'm off track for sure but I'm not giving up.
So, for me his morning, it took my husband's Eeyore attitude to remind me that life, in general, is not hopeless. He gave me perspective and with that, strangely, some peace of mind. I'm not as far down that hole as I thought I was and in the face of someone I love telling me to just quit hoping altogether, I found, instead, a way to start climbing out of this hole I am in. It won't happen over night. It won't happen fast. I have a lot on my plate. But I am not giving up. Not even a little bit.